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I haven’t written in a few days, which isn’t all that typical of me lately, because of reasons I don’t even know how to pin down. I’ve been feeling as though I’m floating lately, not really here all the time. I don’t think I’m unhappy or anything, just sort of bored, tired, lethargic. I don’t know. I can take on things sometimes and try to shoulder it harder or longer than I should and I don’t stop and ask myself WTF, you know? I don’t even think I’m talking about anything in particular.

Perhaps I need more close friends and family here, of course that could be. I’m also feeling a little discontent, wanting to stop freakin worrying about money and never having enough to do or purchase the things I want, which sounds SO lame, I know. But seriously, I’m damn tired of being broke and trying so begrudgingly to be frugal. It’s a pain in the rear. You got your degrees, you got your jobs, congratulations- now you have to pay off all your debt. After that, you can work on saving for college and retirement, or paying off your mortgage if you’re lucky enough to have a home to truly call your own, which it turns out could be incredibly overrated.

And I’ve been sad lately at things I don’t think should make me quite so sad. I let Lil’ E stay up way too late last night and felt like the worst parent on the planet. I found out a close friend who I haven’t been able to really talk to in months is off to a bible college of sorts in the bahamas and I feel so bad that I knew nothing of this and all the different directions every one goes in life. Sometimes I think connections are so awesome. You go for a walk to kill time and end up meeting some one a few blocks down who is trained in landscape architecture and has awesome tips and encouragement about your organic garden. You plan for the right pet and meet a breeder who is a talkative, interesting, informative home-schooling mom, (and has the perfect pet for our family). So in these moments I want to get on this blog or remark to some one in person about how incredibly delightful these connections are- how two people end up meeting or effecting each other’s lives in a way that seems just too strange to not be Orchestrated.

Other times its connections that I mourn - one’s that are falling apart from distance and lack of cultivation. Sometimes I mourn one’s that are just fine, because its terrible events that bring two people together, like earlier this week when Lil’ E and I were walking to the park and saw a cat dying on the sidewalk. With the joint effort of myself and the mailman, we managed to read the ID tag and call the number to identify the pet’s owner’s, who it turns out had just moved in across the street from where the cat lay after being, apparently, hit by a car. It was difficult for me particularly because Lil’ E didn’t get it and kept meowing at the cat and telling me it had a boo boo. When it took its last breath, Lil’ E told me the kitty cat was tired and was going to sleep. And here in this event I connected with the mail man, as we hunched over a bloody feline corpse, because I was grateful some one else cared, grateful he had a cell phone, grateful he was another freakin adult to balance my feelings of sorrow over my child’s first death experience and make me aware of my own sensibilities.

This week I’ve looked a little more at my myspace friends while I’m bored and waiting for Hubby to get back from his 7am-10:30pm work schedule. I don’t know why, but I’m always so surprised, even disturbed, by the fact that so many old and even current friends are doing such vastly different things than I. I get this snapshot, this weird MySpace thing that it is, of their “profile” and can see how they want to be perceived- what they want people to know about them. Are they edgy? Witty? Do they have lots of friends and comments, do they list a slue of fascinating books or movies in their interests? Sure we all do it, right? Without even thinking much about it, we figure out fairly quickly, though it might change as often as we change our shoes, who we want to be to the rest of the world. And in the end, the things I most want to tell people about myself but don’t because it seems so ridiculous, is that I really, really liked reading a book about pumpkins to my son today. I wonder if a lot of stay-at-home moms feel this way, like the highlight of their day was curbing a temper tantrum so they could enjoy a MUG (”for here!”) of java at a coffee shop fairly uninterrupted- I mean this is like a humongous personal feat, people! But when you look around and see other adults in the world DO NOT CARE about whether or not you got your toddler to eat zucchini, it can feel as though the entire ball of earth is a black hole that has just swallowed you up because you are completely, eerily, alone. Like, “wow, this is kinda crazy… what am I living my life for if these are my daily highlights? where is my life going? who am I? Is any one else here? Hello?” (echoes ensue, yada yada yada.)

This is only one small piece of the puzzle as I uncover this strangely not-here-but-here mood I’ve been in, hidden behind a nice tired smile and way too much talking.

What do these three have in common?

Not much, except that’s what I’ve been up to these past few days; Planting some cool season crops as the first chilly, rainy weather has graced us with its presence for a short time. I wanted to not miss the planting season since I realllly missed it last time and had pretty much zero Fall harvest to celebrate, except apples, figs, and raspberries which were already here. So finally I’ve got the veg beds up to par and have some soft, composted dirt to work with, and planted broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage variety starters this weekend. I’m trying to get the lettuce in the ground as well. I uncovered a bunch of bulbs, some kind of flower, as well as some onions, so Misty and I will be working our way around the yard to find the best place for these for next Spring, along with some bulbs of tulips I just can’t wait til those flower! We’ve got plans for some garlic varieties to put in the ground next month, (which is excited because, you know, I’m Cajun and all, and we could eat garlic like apples- the more the better as far as I’m concerned!) For color, I’ve thrown winter Pansies around, as a flower bed border as well as some in pretty pots. The yard is really starting to shape up and it makes for such a nice place to spend time in now- not the overgrown, unorganized spider jungle we faced a month ago!

On a Lil’ E note, I’ve had some luck curbing his tantrums with less punishment after the fact and more reward/distraction as the tantrum first sets in- what is he so excited about that he’ll do almost anything for? The promise of a sticker on his hand when we get home. Yep. That’s all, and he’ll slow his crying and between sobs mutter, “[I’ll be a] good boy” and “Star on my hand” etc. Now, I know enough about the most common parenting philosophies out there to know that a system of punishment/reward is usually not considered “ideal”- but I really find that he is more or less distracted by the idea of the sticker, and simultaneously sees it as a symbol of a self-affirming “good boy” behavior which he recognizes as favorable compared to, obviously, time out. I think the key is to continuously remind him that he is loved unconditionally and a “good boy” no matter what, but that his behavior can either have good or bad consequences. I haven’t had to do a time out or punishment in a few days, which is amazing when you think that 4 weeks ago I was spankin that bottom from sun up to sun down! He still gets overly hands-on and excited when allowed free play with other kids, and often shows off with defiant behavior, which is extra difficult to deal with because of the other parent’s involved or patrons at a store or whatever- why is it so much harder to parent firmly and patiently when you feel eyes on you? Maybe its just me. But anyway, I also know this is a product of needing a social outlet with kids his own age, to learn to share, not hit, not throw, bla bla bla, so I think it is its own inevitable cure. Practice, practice, practice. I just tell myself that one day he’ll be a charming gentlemen with amazing social skills, lol!

Lastly, I started reading St. Francis of Assisi by G.K.Chesterson and I’m finding this guy way more interesting than I expected- and a certain kinship to some of his loves and struggles, I must say. Though I don’t have stigmata or anything

Oh- and as a total P.S.- Hubby finally got a job he likes, full-time, decent pay, daytime hours, etc etc. He will continue working part-time evenings at Wild Oats for awhile until we’ve caught up a little bit more, but at last he’s got something he is looking forward to (has been looking since mid-May when we moved here)! He gets up at 6:30 tomorrow morning to head out for his first day, and I can hardly curb my enthusiasm, its the lightest I’ve felt in like 6 months. Not just for financial reasons but a myriad of them. So… yay!

And no, she doesn’t read this blog,… I don’t think.

My boss is one of those rare people who do good things for the heck of it. Just loves people and extends gracious generosities where ever she goes. It’s weird!

I first met her when I had just had Lil’ E. I was still trying to finish up my degree in Journalism and we were so desperately needing money. We made like 1,200 a month, net, and I had no idea how I would avoid going back to work at Starbucks while my starving baby who refused a bottle cried in the arms of some one that could never love him as much as I do- (lol, aren’t my descriptions of a babysitter just lovely! what an opinionated lady I can be sometimes!) I heard through the grapevine that a community group at our church needed some one to come hang (paid) with the children while the ladies met for lunch once a week. That’s where I met my future boss, as week after week no one with kids showed up, so we got to introduce ourselves and chit chat a bit.

She told me she worked in publishing, so I dropped the line that if ever there was a lead on some work I could do from home, I’d be very interested in getting my foot in the door.

A few months later, I got a call that her team needed some one to do some basic data entry stuff, for about $10 an hour 5-10 hours a week. Like, holy crap that’s an extra 50-100 a week I can make to get groceries- duh, yes, I’ll do it!

From there I just continued to do my work, knowing very little about the company, not very integrated into the whole picture, just doing my little spreadsheets.

Who would have thought that the more I helped out, the more work I was willing to take on, that I would now make more than double that hourly rate and have at least 30-40 hours a week of work available to me as I continue to take on higher level tasks over a year and a half later? And to be able to do this from home, to be able to never pay for day care in my son’s life, is like, … “ahhhhhh” angels singing.

I shared last weekend that this situation has some double edge sword’s to it. Doubling up on the work of being full time caregiver to a growing toddler while handling larger responsibilities and consistent day time hours through out the week- it was becoming a bit unbearable. The stress and guilt of having either my son or my job fall through the cracks kept me up at night, as I saw no other choice to my predicament.

Again, who would have thought, but finally I saw an opportunity to share this struggle with my way awesome boss, and just like that, easy as pie, she accepts my proposal of daily “check in times” and the rest of my hours are flexible and around my family schedule. Um, WHAT? And not before she flatters my ego with encouragement and positive review.

I write this not only to update you readers/friends/fam on the situation, but to also point out that a small handful of Forbes 400 Best Big Companies, let alone individual boss’ within such companies, would actually encourage family priorities to top the employee’s list. When a company is willing to allow telecommuting and will work with an employee’s home life and family needs, they will find that most will work hard and efficiently in their loyalty and gratitude to that business. I can’t say enough about the opportunity I’ve been given to be able to devote myself to motherhood AND put my skills and work ethic to use for a paycheck reward! I feel so bad for those who don’t have such opportunities and I can only encourage employer’s to consider the rewards of employing educated, smart, hard working mother’s who can be an asset to a company without having to come in and sit at a cubicle.

That’s all folks.

That’s what my son says when he sees toys, isn’t he so cute?!

Anyway, I bought the Oregonian yesterday to read up on the 9 million recalls from Mattel, catching up a bit on this. I woke up to it on the Today show as well.

Luckily, I don’t think we own any of these toys, particularly Mattel and Fisher Price stuff. The majority of my toys are from a company called Melissa and Doug, who makes primarily wooden toys and is fairly popular among the “natural” community.

While in Wild Oats a week ago, another mom pointed out that the Melissa and Doug toy we were looking at was made in China, therefor how do we even know about the lead problem since you can’t regulate the manufacturing plants overseas.

I didn’t think much about it because I was sure Melissa & Doug would not be so popular among environmentalists and activists without having some fairly strict regulations on the toys they make. Still, with everything going on, I wanted to poke around a bit and see what I could find.

If you are interested in the Melissa and Doug issue, here are a few links:

• Natural Family Living Blog post
• Little Kids Stuff says no lead paint on M & D train set
• Finally, this post at Velveteen Mind - she actually called them- made me feel more sure. I’ve since learned she has called a second time with the same response. Though we WILL NOT hold her responsible if she turns out to be wrong

Now, I’m on to Brio… our train set and a few other toys are made from Switzerland based company Brio. From what I read, they try to keep manufacturing in Europe, though I read some one had a hand me down set from the mid-80’s that did contain lead. Lil’ E’s are all purchased in the last two years, which I have not heard anything so far about them being unsafe. Sheesh. This stuff is crazy. I’ll never shop at Walmart, Toys R Us, and maybe even Target again! lol Just Kids at Heart and Fennegan’s for me! And even there I’ve got to look through ingredients and shop smart- you just never know, huh?

I also want to point you in the direction of a cool “letter”/post that Imperfect Mommy wrote to the heads of companies like Mattel. It makes me so proud that other mommies are taking the health of their family in their own hands, already beginning to think of a Christmas without all the plastic and lead trimmings

I’ve had some pervasive thoughts lately, regarding time and waste, primarily.

And you are forewarned: this is a rant.

As I shared previously, I’ve been reading into some Waldorf-ish child development stuff lately, and I’m beginning to wonder if some how or another I am reclaiming my own childhood, values, virtues, principles, creativity, thought-life, and so on. Whether its regarding “seasons” I rarely experienced growing up in south Florida, songs and rhymes with motions I had long forgotten,  or childhood experiences I was enriched and blessed by my father’s insistence on playing outdoors with the good ol’ earth and sun and tree house- how EASY it is to become a regular American girl who puts a gazillion Baby Einstien DVD’s on her baby registry and sets out to pace her own family in the ideals of this consumer country with little thought to the down right twisted circle of it all.

I don’t remember a lot of cartoons from my early childhood. I half way remember enjoying Pee Wee’s Playhouse on Saturday mornings through a fuzzy screen of a small, rabbit eared TV in our one bedroom apartment on the Peace River. But I do remember the activities, the games my brother and I created and played with neighboring children in backyard’s and at the marina’s edge. I remember all kinds of “natural” things that thrilled me, down to singing the “Our Father” with my dad when I went to sleep. I read books and colored a hundred times more than I watched tv or movies, that’s for sure. My brother and I made a game out of spelling long words (”perpendicular” was my favorite!) or counting to one hundred when I was just starting grade school. By the time I was in kindergarten, I distinctly recall my frustration that the majority of the other children could not read a simple book or color in the lines or cut out a pattern.

And I don’t know why this was; I don’t know how much tv they watched or what type of parents they had or if we were just plan ol different and that’s that.  I’m merely reflecting on my own experiences as I now filter THROUGH them and try to imagine what memories my son will have in his twenties. I can only say that I can’t imagine who I would be today if I had grown up as so many kids are right now - with oodles of television and computer games and dvd’s in the back of the minivan (what ever happened to car games? I Spy and so on?! I was entertained during 5-15 hour drives with these games!) How sad that they memorize names like Dora and Diego and Elmo and Blues Clues before they even get down the names of their grandparent’s!

I also think of all the senseless hours I’ve wasted in the last decade on tv shows. I’m not talking about an awesome film or favorite show here and there- I mean the AM news, the daytime talks, down to the 11 pm news and Late Night shows, I mean I’ve seen them all- and when I looked around, every one I knew my age was doing the same thing, so I don’t think I’m alone in this! And we wonder all the time where all the hours go in the day and why our nation’s children are overweight on the whole. Maybe because so many of them are NOT out riding bikes and climbing trees and getting sweaty and grimy until dinner time every day? Most at best finish their homework and then play video games. Some have competitive sports or teams they are on, but few teens have an active, healthy LIFESTYLE. My own darling Hubby (very big TV fan, btw) has to “zone out” for most of his hours before or after a work shift with the boob tube- the mere thought of taking a walk four hours before he must clock in is too much (not cracking on him here, just pointing out a difference, okay?) I remember where we lived in Florida, our house was less than a mile from several chain restaurants, a grocery store, even a “Family Fun” place with put put golfing and so on. Yet if we needed a few things from the store or anything, we drove. We got into our automobiles and drove literally around the corner in perfect weather. This seems so silly to me now, and not a wonder I struggled with a flabby butt for the last 5 years! Now I’ve got to re-learn what it means to be active- not a 30 minutes a day exercise regime or gym membership, not a weekend outing here and there- but riding my bike and walking as a MODE OF TRANSPORTATION, weeding and pruning the garden, staying busy with things like this for several hours of every day, allowing the isty bitsy spider to make a web from the tree to the hood of my car because I so rarely use it! (It’s on Craigslist, if any one is interested!)

I was really inspired by a No Impact Man post recently, in which he muses over the fact that we live in a culture that WATCHES everything happening but rarely DOES anything. Why learn an instrument or allow yourself to sing in front of others, let alone connect with others in an intimate way on a regular basis, if you can simply watch such connections in a movie and listen to much better music on the stereo?

And don’t even get me started on 50, 60- 80 hour work weeks that deteriorate our health, families, and quality of life. “More-more-more!”: I’m guilty of it, very guilty of it, trust me. But I am getting MORE MORE MORE bothered by the time this way of living robs from me and the things I could be DOING and learning and how rich my life would be if I got a few priorities straightened out (i.e. putting money/things at the bottom!)

Well, there is a perfectly good afternoon out there right now, so I’m gonna scat now. Scat… isn’t that the word for animal droppings. Ew.

I’ve been really into “waldorf”-ing it at home lately, and if any one is interested in this child development philosophy here is some recommended reading:

• Children at Play
• Earthways; Simply Environmental Activities for Young Children
  
• Festivals, Family and Food

I’m enjoying those for Lil’ E’s age, and a quick search of amazon for Waldorf Education will bring you a lot more. I’ve also found some neat books with creative activity with toddlers:

• First Art; Art Experience for Toddlers and Two’s
• Rainy Day Play
• Preschool Art; Collage and Paper
• Preschool Art; Clay and Dough

There’s lots more but these books were at my library- and I’m guessing you can find a lot like them at yours!

I have to say, cutting the tube and stopping the “pow pow” has produced a delightful “terrible two” compared to the weeks prior to this change. He enjoys his music and books with new enthusiasm and looks forward to our walks and collecting natural things - there’s just so much to say about that but I don’t know where to start. It has been difficult for me in some ways, because I used to work at night or while Lil’ E was occupied, enjoying the flexibility. This summer I was asked to work daytime hours, which worked for the past few months because Hubby was home too. Lately I am transitioning into doing both jobs simultaneously for five days a week, and no matter how many ways I think of it, I can’t seem to make it “work” in my head. If I am truly working and “on the clock”, then I am at my lap top, at my desk, on my phone, and NOT doing a diaper - let alone reading a book or playing with play dough. Every time I do these things with Lil’ E I “stop the clock”, which makes a 6 hour day stretch into 8 or 9, at least. Is it even possible? I’ve even looked into preschools this week, even a couple days a week, and concluded they are: A. not affordable for me, at least not right now, and B. defeat the “purpose” of me wanting to stay home and raise my son. What’s a girl to do? I enjoy my job and can’t imagine any other way I could make such good money from the comfort of my own home, however, as Lil’ E is no longer a nursing babe but an active, bright, male toddler, I am beginning to wonder what choices I have in making this a more fair and responsible situation for his sake.

One of the things I have thought of is getting half my day over with in the early morning. Being on the West Coast now, if I worked at 5 am I’d get a good 3 hours in before he wakes up. Then I’m really only taking another 3-5 hours out of the rest of my day with him, which isn’t that bad. The trouble is, I’m a night owl and really need a great deal of discipline to fall asleep earlier and get up at 4:30 in the morning. But when I think of all the mom’s who are nurses on the night shift, etc, I realize lots of women have done a lot harder things to be able to stay home with their children in a two-income society. Besides, I’m young and energetic, I should be able to make this thing fit into place, some how or another.

Well, that’s my ranting for tonight. Ideas welcomed, even if I don’t listen to you!

quick word-

Diane at the Mommy Spot has some information on the latest major toy recalls for lead paints on toys.

I also want to say that if I can draw any business to those companies that are bucking the status quo in order to produce quality toys made of natural materials, even recycled materials, that are non-toxic and worry-free, not to mention spark creativity, such as this toy manufacturer, I want to try. And if you want to buy Lil’ E anything from them, I might kiss you. lol. Also, note that Hazelnut Kids is a great resource as well!

Ok, just wanted to throw that in there. Yes, this is the 3rd post in one night so don’t forget to scroll down to slightly more entertaining content!

Tonight I joined our home community leader to a Women in Portland Publishing “Trivia Night”, knowing full well that trivia’s “not my bag” … baby … yeah.

Am I the only one who DOES NOT KNOW the 4 letters that make up DNA codes, or the 7 deadly sins, or the 5 permanent UN countries, or for crying out loud, the 7 sins or something of the dark professor-what-nots at Hogwarts in the Harry Potter series. Like, hello? Average American girl schooled in FLORIDA raise your hand- OH, that’s right, that’s ME. All that hard earned tuition dollars, (insert flush sound here.)

Makes me think to put a bug in some one’s ear within Wiley, my lovely employer, that we need to add another book to the Dummies series- hence the title of this post. I know I’d buy it.

Acme, the trivia night venue, was a bit of a dive. But the beer was good (had Young’s, double chocolate!). My cheese quesadilla went to the wrong table two times, and after 45 minutes and two trips to the bar again asking about it, at last it arrives - a nice BEAN quesadilla. I tried to explain to the waiter all friendly-bubbly-Vivian-like and he gave me a blank stare and said, “Do you want us to remake it without the beans?” Um, no, sure, I’ll take the damn beans- which, I’m happy to report turned out to be WORTH all the fuss (either because it was that tasty or I was THAT hungry.)

So this makes two week nights in a row that I’ve gone out past dark! Can I officially call myself a night-lifer? HA! I don’t think it counts when I nullify my out-going excursions by reading “Children at Play” until I fall asleep!

Speaking of which, pray for me; I’m going through one of those work vs. mommy crisis, one tailored especially for the work at home mom who doesn’t want her child raised by Dora the Explorer. (In a similar note, I’ve been meaning to publish a post I started titled, “Bye Bye Pow Pow.” Yep, we’re choosing to forgo the literal interpretation of “spare the rod” now, big news for those of you who heard the words, “pow pow” warned from my lips a gazillion times a day!)

Adios for now…

*I did not take these pictures, just borrowing them, don’t sue me, cause I have no money.

Most of my son’s current toys are wooden, right down to his playhouse made of cedar. This is not a coincidence, and because I’ve gotten questions regarding this a few times, I figured it was time to clear the air.

First, a disclaimer:

1. I am not an expert on the subject. I am not a scientist or doctor or toy manufacturer. But I am a mother.

2. I am not aiming this post at any one in Lil E’s history who has purchased him a toy that was made of plastic.

3. RealMama.org wrote a much more comprehensive article here, which I discovered after writing this one.

4. The best resource I have found on the subject is Greenpeace, and you can see a whole lot more here.

Ok, so, I realize that most Americans have probably very little awareness or cause for concern regarding the ingredients of plastic toys. There are very few toys at the most popular toy chain, Toys R Us, that are not plastic. Baby dolls, legos, everything down to teething rings are plastic. But the fact is, many plastic toys can contain PVC.

Without a long explanation, what’s PVC?

PVC: short for Polyvinyl chloride, wikipedia describes as one of the most valuable products of the chemical industry. Repeat word: chemical. Commonly found in building materials, it also shows up all around our homes in tupperware food storage, vinyl shower curtain liners, clothing, etc. Plasticizers added to the PVC to make it more pliable can “leach out” over use. Concerns have been raised on the effects these chemicals have on human health, especially regarding PVC in toys. Europe banned the use of a chemical additive to PVC called Phthalates from toys - see article here. In a study conducted by GreenPeace, the only toys found with PVC sold in Austria were at Toys R Us. (I hate that store!)

What’s the harm?

PVC and the chemicals it contains have been linked in various studies to various health concerns, including:

• Reproductive birth defects, particularly the male reproductive tract, from the off-gas of that “new shower curtain” smell from the initial release of the Phthalates.
• Liver Cancer and kidney damage (in studies on animals)
• Nervous and respiratory problems (esp. asthma)

An excerpt fro Greenpeace’s Q&A:

“Are children more vulnerable to exposure to chemicals? Are some children at a higher risk?

Because children are still developing into adolescence, they are more vulnerable to chemical exposure. Their reproductive systems, livers and other vital organs and not fully developed. Children whose immune systems are compromised and premature babies are more at risk than other children from chemical contamination.”

Most toy manufacturer’s have stopped adding these chemicals to toys that kids chew on, such as teethers, rattlers, and plastic nipples. A quick search around the internet and you can find a list of manufacturer’s and retail stores. Greenpeace lists Austria, Denmark, France, Mexico, Greece, Norway, Sweden, Germany, Finland, and Italy as countries that have or are taking steps to ban phthalates in toys. However, a large percent of plastic toys do contain these chemicals- (Again, Greenpeace names a few companies still manufacturing and selling them: Hasbro, Playskool, Warner Bros and Disney.) Today, some arrived in the mail from a wonderful and loving and well-meaning family member. We made the decision that one of the toys that heavily reeked of the plastic shower curtain smell, we would not allow Lil E to play with.

This may sound pretty harsh, and I understand not wanting to be fanatical about anything. I’ve also read that there is no conclusion on the direct effects of these chemicals in humans. But in our home, we do what we can. Our laundry soap, bathing products, cleaning agents, etc are made of natural ingredients. Our bedding and towels are organic cotton. Our furniture is used, (and most off-gassing occurs in the first 2 years of use, Diane from The Mommy Spot pointed out!) and our shower curtain liner is fabric. I use glass food storage rather than tupperware and try to be mildly aware of foods stored in plastics with certain recycle numbers, etc. Some of you might be thinking that’s completely radical, and some of you are wondering, sheesh, that’s all you do? It is a learning process, for sure, and one that I believe is important when it concerns the health of small children. Just because its cheap and effective to make, sell, and purchase pliable plastic toys doesn’t mean its healthy, normal, or indifferent. I mean, there’s a reason they are called “hazardous chemicals”, after all!

When Hubby and I got pregnant with Ethan, we were not exactly planning it and not exactly taking every precausion either. We had been married nearly 2 years, fresh from the lovely marital torture of that first year, starting counseling and regular church attendance, etc. I was in my junior year in college, which, once I realized my state, I hurried along with 21 credit hours in the spring and another two long summer courses (history and art, it wasn’t that bad), up until 3 weeks until my due date of mid-July. I worked for Starbucks at the time, with late hours after being in class all day long. I called out every chance I got, which was often with my constant nausea and these things, which darn nearly prevented me from walking but my lifestyle demanded being on my feet often. I did find relief in prenatal yoga- sweet, sweet relief.

I stopped working at about 8 months pregnant to finish school, and spent the last few weeks of pregnancy wondering where the ever loving hell this baby was, as the due date came and went and I sat in the miserable heat of Florida’s sub-tropical summer sucking down Popsicles in my underwear, (or my husband’s boxer’s since that’s all that fit me at that point) with the AC set to 55 degrees. When the phone calls rang all day with, “OHMYGAWD! Your not picking up your phone! Are you having that baby?!” we decided to unplug the phone and sit around eating Popsicles together. I tried to “nest”, which translates to scrubbing the oven, making meals to freeze that I never did eat, and sweeping about 7 times an hour just in case we had to flee to the hospital and family saw the house before we had a chance to come home and clean it.

About a week post-due, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I tried yoga postures that they say NOT to do because it will induce labor. I sat on the massage chairs at Brookstone. I had Hubby put pressure on my ankles. I drank Raspberry Leaf Tea several times a day. I had lots of sex. I mixed Castor Oil with scrambled eggs for breakfast (which just brought on some of this, which was not a great condition to be on in the eve of your labor.) My midwife even “stripped the membranes” and felt that, since I had been at 3 cm with a head sitting in between what felt like my leg bones, labor would ensue within days. Nothing but a bunch of irregularly timed contractions, searing back pain, and constipation resulted from these failed attempts to bring on sudden labor. On the eleventh day passed due date…

We decided that my pain was too unbearable. We left the house a mess. We grabbed our bags and headed to the hospital around 10 pm. I had a written birthing plan that requested no pain medications and a shortened stay in the hospital. Hospitals reek of death and neglect and uncalled for interventions and drug-pusher’s with MD’s, (sorry, that was probably harsh).

I wanted to get that baby out of me so bad, I might have taken the hospital hostage if they had tried to send me home. So when they found I was running a fever and the baby’s heart beat was irregular, they panicked and, after much deliberating, I agreed to go on Pitocin to induce the labor. I had been feeling a bit leaky, but my back hurt so bad that I couldn’t quite focus on the other little signals my body was giving me. I mentioned to the staff that I felt like I might be peeing on myself (you laugh, but if you had the weight of that load on your bladder, while contracting and pushing downward, you’d wonder why I didn’t spray the whole place).

Before the Pitocin was even hooked up, my water officially broke. It was tinted with fresh merconium (yes, Lil’ E’s first bowel movement coming out my la la was a gloriously defining moment for my introduction into motherhood.) I wish I wouldv’e asked to hold off on the Pitocin. Maybe I did, but either way the drip began and from about 3:30 am til 2:30 in the afternoon I was bolted down into the intensity of my subconscious while my body continued on in real life, experiencing some of the most jolting waves of peaks and dips that left me fatigued and shivering. I was incredibly swollen from laboring over a freakin portable commode, and the urge to push came a few centimeters too early. I think the entire room was breathing with me, like we were blowing a feather inches from our mouths with “O” shaped lips. It actually worked! I breathed through another centimeter of dilating, until the midwife decided to force the remaining barricade open to make way for my son’s ramming head. Though I was begging for them to cut me open right before that, the invitation to go ahead and PUSH was a wonderful relief and I pushed with skill and determination. When asked if I wanted to touch the baby’s head, my clarity returned for half a second, long enough for me to say politely, “No, just get him out of me.”

When the body separated from my own, I could not believe the train ride had come to an end. I remember being so annoyed that in an instant there was no one paying attention to me except the staff; all family had scattered to make phone calls about the news while I was still lying there in bewilderment, birthing the placenta. I felt like I should force some tears of joy at this new little wiggly baby as I brought him to my breast, but really I was completely stunned. I think I was still out of body some where, floating around in the corner ceiling of the room while some one took my baby for a bath and I was escorted to the bathroom to fill up the toilet with blood and squirt my la la with a warm water bottle. Yes, for those who have not had a baby in a hospital, and for you men who will never get the joy, I am serious. After all that I just went through, I was instructed to squirt warm water at myself in the presence of a nurse. The worst part? The trickle of warm water awakened my womanly parts to the realization of what it had just been through, and it sent a message to my brain that went something like, “OUCH!”

If I could sum up the hospital stay it would look something like cafeteria food that arrived too cold, a constant stream of people coming in to check my “vitals” while I sat around bleeding on a padded bed with my teta’s exposed to the world. Oh yes, and let’s not forget the strange, spongy gut left from the departure of the solid mass it once housed. I felt I hardly bonded with my son and was fed a wealth of misinformation regarding breastfeeding and my son’s jaundice. At last I went home, 56 hours later, with out more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep in about 4 days.

After all that, the first three months were minor horrors.

And so I ask you, if you had these lovely memories to keep you warm at night, would you be contemplating another pregnancy, like EVER? I struggle with this decision, more so lately than ever. So many things, the real important things, are lining up in such a way that I’m feeling the need to procreate just one more time. And so many other things, things I think might also be important, are not lining up. And let’s not forget, the terrific anecdote I just shared for the passed 30 minutes creeps in to haunt my experience and send anxiety over any future plans.

Every day I feel differently about having another child, and sometimes I scold myself for being scared or for thinking there is a “right” time waiting indefinitely in the wings of “my plans”. I think it must not be natural, this indecision, and I might truly regret waiting too long, (I’ve always felt that a “perk”, if you will, of having Lil’ E so young is that I will still be relatively young when he’s off to college, when Hubby and I can get back to traveling the world together or something. If I have my second child ten, even 5 years later, I’ve trumped that “perk” ).

And every one has got advice for me, and I don’t agree with any of them, whether they are for or against or even indifferent to my decision, because in the end I simply don’t want any one telling me what to do.

So, there, it is out in the open, my preoccupation with another pregnancy. I hope this record breaking post made up in entertainment what it lacked in brevity.