Thanks, Management. (Formerly Talktalk}

Things you might find out here.

Recently, I commented to a new aquaintance that I am a blogger. She indirectly asked for the address to my blog. Wow. I don't quite know what to say. I barely know this person...my blog is like my personal diary to myself and others whom I want to understand me. Then again, if I don't want it to be read, why post it on the www?

Here is a disclaimer. You might find out that I am a passionate mama, a complainer (hey, it's my blog space and I'm paying for it!), liberal, a green wannabe, a compulsive spender, bisexual, opinionated, scared, depressed, anxious, judgemental (though I try not to be out there in the world, it's gotta go someplace), angry, unsure, a spiritual searcher, and more than you might want to find out about me, a virtual stranger. Some of it may intrigue you and some of it may turn you off completely. But this is ME, bare bones, not trying to make myself something I ain't, maybe for the first time in my life.

Welcome.

p.s. I don't edit when I blog. Deal with it baby! (insert smiley face)

Jumbly post about birthing and postpartum

Tonight, I talked (and talkedandtalkedandtalked) with a friend about her birth experiences. Further, I went to see baby Rosemary for a few minutes.

Now, I am full of my own memories over the births of my babes. No, I am not going to write out the full birth stories of both my babies. (Though I'd like to re-do them both).

Birth is so spiritual to me. Both times, it completely mystified me. The high afterwards, for me, was a sensation I would pay dearly for. The feeling of being completely transformed, from independant woman to mama, from mama of one girl to mama of one girl and one boy...well, the feeling is indescribable for me. But I will try to describe it.

I felt as if the shell of me was still there, but my insides, my core, my soul, were in a state of flux, rearranging me. My self as I knew it was suddenly gone, and my new self was still quite mutable. I felt like I was here, could feel my feet touching the Earth, yet I wasn't quite an earthly being. That feeling was most intense during pushing for me, but it didn't completely end for at least eight weeks.

Having babies changes who you are more than any other life event that I can think of. Not all of those changes are desirable. When Delaney came, I had a new body, new breasts that suddenly were ALIVE! with life giving quintessence, but I didn't know what to do with them. She cried, hard, wasn't cuddly for a long time. Pushed me away at the same time desperately wanting me. I was confused, frightened, unprepared...Greyson's arrival brought something less than desirable, too, which was my uterine prolapse as well as the struggles of juggling two babies now. Postpartum is hard on me, harder still on other women I know. It should be a time of rest and pampering. Instead, too often, it is a time for showing the world how invincible we want to be, how quick we can recover physically and emotionally, how fast we can get back to life as we knew it. But here's the thing: Life as we knew it is O-VER. You can't get it back. You have to find your new self and your new life. And here's the other thing: No matter how quickly you get back on that horse, if you don't do enough self-care and nurturing, it will come back to bite you in the ass in some way. Sooner or later, you will break down.

So anyway, after I broke down (LOL!!!!) I made my life work for me again. I found people, I found ways to make myself happy. I never have all the balls in the air at once, but I love who I am. And the more I love who I am, the better mom I am.

And for me, being a great mom, a really positive, empathetic, involved, loving, fun, caring, on the level with my kids kind of mom...well, that is the best damned payback for those contractions, ring of fire, intense transition, eye bulging pushing, colicky baby, late night nursing, tantrum throwing, puking in the night (okay, that's pushing it!), fit pitching, snotty nose on your favorite blouse, you get the picture kind of moments. Because being a mom is part of my destiny. Thank you for the gift.

Home is where your heart is...

We moved to Lancaster in August of 1996. I had just graduated from college, and I was happy with my old town, a smallish college town. I had a job there. I had lots of fellow teacher friends there. We had been there around four years, and I was comfortable.

When Gene got transferred, I was sad. He started working here in January of '96, and was gone 3-5 days a week, usually returning on weekends. I stayed busy, though, with my student teaching and my scads of friends.

I resisted the move all through the summer. Finally, in August, I gave in and we made the drive here to look for housing and check out the town.

I hated it. It felt lonely and generic. We chose an apartment, which was nice enough, but I had nothing good to say about it. It wasn't home.

After a great going away party thrown by our friends, we finally moved. Days later, I started substitute teaching, and Gene started working away. Lots. Mostly back at his original power plant!! I was livid, lonely, lugubrious. (I love that word!) I wrote down how many days he was gone for three months. He worked away 71% of all working days, and a damned lot of those were back home! I started turning down teaching gigs to follow him to the hotels and see my friends in the evenings. I spent my days parking in front of my old apartment, shopping in my old mall, walking on my old campus, sobbing...

Eventually, Gene started working in Lancaster more often. I got a full time job. I met some people. We made some friends, although they were the kind of friends that you have dinner with, but don't call to pour your soul out. We had Delaney. We met some real friends, too, and were adjusting. (Of course, then the real friends moved 45 minutes away!)

Still, I felt not-quite-finished.

Flash forward to a few weeks after Greyson was born. I was involved in a MOMS club in a town not far away. A newer MOMS club had been formed right here in Lancaster during my pregnancy with Grey, but I hadn't switched over. Anyway, Greyson was only a couple weeks old, and there was a car seat check staffed by both MOMS clubs. I wasn't planning on helping out, but several people had backed out, and I was feeling so much love from the MOMS club from our recent shower of casseroles that I agreed to go.

I got a playdate for Delaney and I stuck Grey in the sling. I was paired up with a Lancaster clubber to register cars for the seat check.

She was SO alive. Her son was 8 months old and in the backpack. She talked and talked. She asked if baby was nursing, and when I enthusiastically answered "OH yes!" she beamed and said "GOOD!" Through our chat, I learned that she went to a playgroup run by my midwives. We had a lot in common, and she was just so talkative and attractive that I felt goony, wanting to talk to her more and more. I even met her husband that day, and felt blown away by their collective coolness.

Flash forward four months. The other club was, frankly, boring me. All the other moms were in the same church, were a certain way, and while so very sweet to me, looked at me as if I were the town freak. I decided to join the other club. My first activity was a potluck. I chose something pretty to wear, dressed my kids up, and took homemade hummus and pita chips.

I walked into a group of animated, different, talkative, loud, positive parenting (for the most part), politically aware, nursing, slinging, healthy food eating (well, at the potluck that day LOL!), dew rag wearing, coooooooool as hell looking moms. Diana walked right up to me saying "My life is complete, you made hummus! Teach me how!". Katye and I bonded over our new sons, just over a month apart, wearing the same little bear onesie. Sarah was there again, and didn't recognize me at first, I had lost so much water weight. Molly was there, and gave Greyson a sun hat. Marlena remembered me from another breastfeeding support club when our oldest kids were infants. Jodie beamed at me and made me feel so welcome.

Flash forward again. These are my best friends. I DO call them to pour out my soul. In this town, this town I thought I hated, I have met the dearest people to my soul. My heart is here.

Welcome Rosemary

My soulsister mama friend, Sarah, had her baby yesterday. I was there taking care of Sarah and Bill's son, Will. Rosemary is a beautiful, big, healthy, pink-faced, fresh smelling cherub. Her brother is proud, her daddy is giddy, but it is her mama that I want to talk about.

My friend Sarah is my mirror in so many ways. She and I both wear our emotions on our sleeves, give much, need much, and emote freely. We both tend to stress and to yib out, as I like to call it, during our times of worry.

Yesterday, the day of her daughter's birth, Sarah was absolutely in control. Very determined to make this birth a memory the family would cherish forever, she focused all of her energies on getting the baby out amidst a calm and welcoming atmosphere. I won't give all the details, for it isn't my story to tell.

I can't express what it meant to me to be present for the birth, and to know that Sarah and Bill trusted me implicitly with the care of their young boy. To even get the chance to witness this miracle is a gift beyond measure. What it did for my soul can not be expressed with human words.

I saw a baby born. I saw a woman victorious., vocal, strong, vulnerable, wise and open. I saw a family changed forever. I saw a mama fight fiercely to ensure that her birth would reflect her desires and needs. I was taken back to my own homebirth and remember how otherworldly and spiritual I felt. As Sarah roared Rosemary into being, I was with Will in the front yard. But I was with my friend, and with my memories, and in some way, I was a part of the tribe of all birthing womyn. For all of these things, I am grateful.

Welcome, Rosemary.

Low battery-discard

I have a couple of new-ish friends. BEWARE! You may be reading about yourself! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! LOL.

Anyway, somehow, I’ve gotten involved with these people who complete me in ways I haven’t known in years. I love, love, love hanging out with them. I feel like our families are great matches in most ways. I’m inspired and motivated by them, I am challenged and inflamed.

But I feel like an outsider somewhat, and here’s why: They’re all SMART. Not just witty people who can carry on intelligent discourse. I’m talking about genius-level folk. I am so intimidated around them. One of the friends uses words I have only seen in print (and some that I’ve never even heard!) I have taken to writing them down, but then I feel like a pathetic schmuck, a remedial student of the English language. I just don’t feel like I have a lot to offer to the group. I am the slow one, the dim bulb.

I’ve never BEEN the least in a group before. That sounds so conceited, but it’s true. I came from a really small town, where not many kids even go on to college. I did, and I felt like I was really making something of myself. I was cute, I was liked, I was a shining star of energy. I graduated in the top ten of myclass. I felt like I could do anything, be anything, and I felt like I was smarter than your average bear. I became a teacher, and I was off to change the world.

Now, I am at home, barely using my brain power, fancying myself a writer, stagnating intellectually. God or The Universe or Whoever Is In Charge of Things has put these people in my life for a reason, but I can’t get behind a Power who puts people in your life to make you feel inferior. So what’s the lesson? Humility? A wake-up call to reality? Do I need to get back in school, read more? Should I expect more of myself, or less?

I just feel like there is a tiny translucent but impenetrable wall which keeps me from being a part of their interesting circle, but everything I can think of to say is irrelevant or vapid. I hate that.

Smells like Fall...

In the mornings when I go out, the air is cool now. Cool enough for a jacket. The dew is on the grass and the wind is even a bit chilly. The wind smells like the end of summer...I am thrilled that it will be an early autumn.
And I am glad that the air doesn't hit your face like a steam-oven anymore.
Bring it on, Autumn. Bring your crispy days and bring your cloudy fog nights. Bring that chill in the air that is comforted by roasting marshmallows and hot cocoa.
And bring that baby, would you? I know she (or he) isn't even LATE yet, but gooooood golly, we keep waiting for you. {Props to my friend S. who doesn't read my blog much, but is 39.3 weeks pregnant and a tad impatient, as am I, for baby's arrival}.

There are two of me

...and we are at odds.

There are days when I wake up feeling like I can handle whatever comes my way. Even in a crazy kid moment, I could keep my cool. Someone could call me in crisis mode, and I could soothe them and still feel calm.

Other days, I wake up and something happens, even something as small as too many morning phone calls, and I am ruined the rest of the day. And I don’t have a clue how to get happy again after that. I feel like my very existence is doomed. I can’t be rational. I can’t see the big picture. On those days, I don’t want anyone’s help or love. It feels bad to me to take any kind of charity. It feels terrible to be held or comforted. Pain is a kind of sick, familiar comfort.

Today is one of the good days. I’ve helped a friend, I’ve spent non-yelling time with my kids, I’ve been in balance between active and restful. Please listen to what I say on THESE days. I do like who I am today. I DO need love and comfort. I DO need people in my life, and yes, I do need help sometimes. YES, I want your arms around me.

Tomorrow might be the other kind of day. I may be building a wall for you to climb, a wall so daunting only the bravest and most resilient would dare climb. I ask you, would you please climb that wall? Please hold my hand and tell me you love me unconditionally. Please.

Introducing...

...my friend Katye. Her blog can be found at http://worldinmyeyes.net/katye and also on my blogroll to the right. I love so much about this woman-her giving spirit, her rapid-fire brainstorms, her ability to turn a shitty situation bearable, even fun, her way with kids, her spontaneity, the way she apologizes and means it, her pork medallions over noodles, the way her house is always welcome, and the fact that I know I could call her at three a.m. just to say that I'm feeling nuts. Heeeeeere's KATYE!

Here she is!

Doesn't she look sweet?? I can't believe how big she has gotten!