Car StarRod

Well, hello there

2012-01-03T08:01:00.000-06:00

Hi, people coming to my blog for literally no reason other than to find passages so you can twist them into ridiculous diatribes about me. Are you having fun with all that? I sure hope so. You've devoted an awful lot of time and energy to your hatred of me; I'd be so sad if it wasn't doing something awesome for you. I mean, digging up blog posts and comments from years ago? Man, that requires some true dedication right there. And God knows, no one ever changes in that length of time and taking things totally out of context is a swell plan. I see a future for you as a Fox News reporter - they have very similar tactics. Or perhaps a tabloid reporter? I mean, since you say you're working a job underneath your talents, I think you should be elevated to where you belong. I am all about bettering yourself.

Since it must be exhausting to search to find evidence of any and all of my flaws - and there are many! - allow me to help you! Here's a not at all complete list:

* I have really big feet. You might expect this from someone who is 5'9", but they are massive. I wear a size ten. It's sometimes really hard to find good shoes and I have actually had significant others of the male variety whose feet are smaller than mine. I know, right? On the plus side, if I were a dude, and that big feet, big...ahem, shoes...myth were true, I would be set.

* I also have really long fingers. And semi-long toes, too, although not as freakishly long as my fingers. Seriously, the fact that I have literally no musical talent is sad, because these hands would only be epic if I played piano. I don't, though.

*I am an abysmal singer. I can't carry a tune in a bucket. AND I STILL SING KARAOKE. Clearly, I have a horrible disregard for all people drunk in bars. Oh, the horror.

* I have stretch marks. Mostly on my stomach. It's not super pretty. I also have some loose skin there that I'm not super thrilled with. Also in the realm of cosmetic things about myself, I have a really terrible ass. It's kind of flat and super bony. I can't sit on someone's lap without puncturing their thigh, practically. If butt implants weren't so ridiculous, I might contemplate them. And I'm vain. Yup. So am. I worry about my physical appearance. I rarely pass a reflective surface where I don't glance to make sure I don't have something out of place.

* I'm impatient. I don't really think I need to explain this.

* I have a horrible temper. I have to work really hard to quell it. Having children has helped that to some degree - I don't want to fly off the handle with them - but it's a work in progress.

* I'm a terrible judge of character. I trust people entirely too easily and I assume, until proven wrong, that everyone is a good and decent person. I have also, in the past, severely misjudged people that later became some of my best friends. See? Awful at this stuff.

* I tend to, at any given time, way overextend myself. I get involved in a trillion things and have a hard time turning down commitments. It exhausts me. Then I get anxious and awful to deal with.

* I usually have one foot out the door in relationships. This is in direct contradiction to the terrible judge of character thing, but I have a difficult time trusting the intentions of people that I am with. Call it being jaded. Call it expecting the worst. It's not because I magically assume I can do so much better at all times, but it is a total defense mechanism.

* I'm magnificently socially awkward. Once I warm up to people, I can crack jokes and be fun and all that, but I have a hard time getting there. I can appear very standoffish to a lot of people. Lots of people assume that this is because I'm a snobby bitch when, in reality, I just spent years of my life not really fitting in and I'm subsequently a little stunted. I can also withdraw completely from close friendships sometimes just because I can't handle them at the time. My long term friends know this about me, and somehow still manage to love me despite it.

* I have issues with depression. It's not very fun. I can get into really dark places sometimes. I had a previous blog post about this; you can draw on that for material if you wish.

* I'm very stubborn and fiercely independent. And arrogant. I have an overdose of self esteem.

* I am terrible at math. I tend to be somewhat academically gifted, but math can reduce me to tears. And not just trig or anything. Basic algebra can render me a mess. I hate it.

* I have, as previously mentioned, little to no artistic talent. And I come from a very artistic mother and have a super artistic sister. Good times. Was a real source of feeling like shit about myself as a kid. I've gotten mostly over it, although I envy those who are artistic.

And, oh, my the list could continue for days, but there you go. I am quite self aware, you see. Titus said something in his Love is Evol standup that summed it up pretty well: "And one more thing I want to be clear about- I know who I am. I am just a very thin layer of charming with some funny sprinkles wrapped around a huge creamy center of raging arrogant a-hole. I got it."

Love and kisses,
Star

Depression

2011-11-15T12:37:00.003-06:00

Hi, I'm Star. And since June, I have been battling depression and anxiety.

This is kind of a big deal for me to write. I don't like admitting negatives about myself. I don't like seeking help. I am independent to a fault. And I certainly don't like admitting that something was wrong with me. I hold my own shit down. I'm tough like that.

Except when I'm not.

Depression and anxiety are dark and dismal things that I have fought before. For a very, very long time I was victorious in removing them from my life. And then I no longer was.

This is the first instance of this variety where I thought I would truly need medication to fix myself. I didn't wind up getting on anything, but I quite frankly should have. I was in a very dangerous place for way too long. Pride didn't prevent me from seeking qualified help, but lack of money did. Instead of medication I drank too much and ate too much crap and behaved stupidly and loathed myself. I wouldn't advise it - I imagine Prozac is much nicer.

There were days where everything was all wrong and I was unable to find joy in a single thing that I saw. These were the worst. Not even my children could make me happy. Getting out of bed was a struggle. Existence seemed so wearying. There were days where I could function for normally for hours and then be brought to my figurative knees with crushing waves of sadness for everything and everyone on Earth. I spent two hours one night crying over global warming, and while I do love the Earth, that was completely and totally abnormal. For a month straight I cried myself to sleep nightly. Please understand that there was nothing that occurred in my life that was so incredibly, incurably traumatic that any of this was necessary. Although I went through some rough patches this year, these are not normally things that would have done this to me. Other episodes of depression happened at much more logical times, so it all still confuses me. I want to find logical reasons for feeling this way, and yet there really weren't any.

I believe that I am through the worst now. I am not saying I never get moments of anxiousness or unexpected sadness, but I can feel normal things now too. I find beauty in life again, and I can face problems without feeling like they're all insurmountable and wretched. I am no longer faking it when I act like I am tough and confident - I actually feel tough and confident again. I had a few friends who went above and beyond to throw life rafts to my sinking ship, and I thank them more than they can imagine. Although I did not contemplate suicide during this, I still feel as though you saved my life by reminding me that I am important and valuable even when I am a wreck. Thanks for listening through the incoherent crying and trying to discern what the fuck was wrong with me. Thanks for reminding me that it all gets better.

If you are suffering with depression, temporary, long term, whatever, please know that it does get better. And the world is a more wonderful place with you in it, even if you don't realize it right now. And if you have the chance, take the damn drugs. You're not a hero for getting through it without them.

Words

2011-10-01T18:50:00.002-05:00

I punched the fridge. it's ok - it's not a rental, but our fridge in the rental. So I didn't destroy anything that could cost me money. So that's good. On the negative side, I definitely have no insurance and a swollen, numb hand. That part is less awesome.

I show my appliances tough love.

What does loyalty mean to you, my reader? What about love? How's that one go? 'Cuz, let me tell you, neither of those two things is going too swell for me right now.

I don't want to sound emo, or like I'm complaining. I mean, I kind of am both, but, quite honestly, I'm just done with it right now. I'm too jaded to spend too long caring right now. I'm too broken to believe and hope today.

I'm pretty pragmatic about love. I don't expect a fairy tale. I don't expect a dozen roses and a white knight and a rescue. I can rescue myself. I expect companionship and shared interests and the ability to grow with someone. I don't expect that we will always grow in the same patterns or ways, just that we will encourage and support the growth of each other. I expect someone that I can laugh with, and be stupid around. I expect someone who has my back. I expect someone to be secure enough about themselves and in themselves to let me be me and I'll return the favor. I expect a partner.

Maybe I am asking too much.

I feel like I am the flaw somehow here. Like there is something missing in me that doesn't inspire these things. I don't know.

Tonight I'll do schoolwork and tuck my baby in bed and cry and consider drinking and then think better of it. I'll shower off the makeup and grime of the day, and I'll go to bed, and I'll try to silence the rhetoric in my head. And maybe tomorrow this will all make sense and I won't feel so incredibly alone and beaten down.

I'll get through another day. And eventually I'll make sense.

Musing

2011-09-26T09:21:00.002-05:00

So those of you who have read my blogs for awhile know that I used to be over 300 pounds. I was also pretty vastly unattractive for 90% of my pubescent years. I was the chubby girl with terrible hair (thanks, many poodle-y perms!) from, oh, fifth grade to probably freshman year in high school. And I was still chunky then, I just happened to make a friend who convinced me to ditch the perms and wear semi-cute clothes. High school mostly remained a sea of feeling shitty about myself, though. I'm not complaining about this, readers. I don't think anyone has a fantastic high school experience. Hell, one of the people I thought had the time of her life in high school has since mentioned that she hated herself then and felt pretty uncomfortable.

Anyways, I gained a lot of weight in high school, and then even more after that. Part of it was legitimate medical reasons - I was on a lot of steroids for asthma for a long time and I pretty much ate everything in sight - but the majority of it was eating a bunch of awful food - made easier by the fact that I pretty much always ate fast food, since I was broke and that's where I worked.

I made noises for years about wanting to lose weight and such, but I never really did anything about it. I'd eat healthy for four seconds or work out sporadically and then be annoyed when, magically, weight didn't roll right off of me. Because that's totally reasonable to think, yeah?

I'd pretty much resigned myself to being the fat girl forever. It's very strange to not be any more.

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't go back to 300+ pounds for anything, and I enjoy being a healthy size. But it's still really surreal. When I look at pictures of myself, I get confused sometimes because I appear thinner in them than I see myself as. If I gain back anything over 5 pounds, I freak out a little bit. When I go clothes shopping, I have a hard time shopping the right size. Sometimes, I feel like an imposter in those sections. Like the other people looking there are wondering why I'm in that section, as I am clearly too large for it.

It's kind of a mind fuck.

People calling me hot is strange, too. I mean, quite frankly, I decided forever ago that I was attractive and then just acted the part. If other people didn't think so, well, fuck them. I was sexy as hell and they could get over it. My self esteem is not an issue. I'm just not used to so many people agreeing with it. Sometimes I find myself slightly irked by it, like, "Hey, I'm pretty sure you knew me before, and I was JUST AS COOL THEN. Really, the excess poundage made that impossible for you to see? What the hell?"

When I'm more practical, I realize that people can't really help what they are or are not attracted to, and I should really stop seeing that as a personal offense, since it's obviously not.

I don't really know how to end this blog. It's really just kind of a stream of consciousness at this point. STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESSES DON'T HAVE PAT ENDINGS, Y'ALL.

"Hear you me my friends"

2011-09-21T22:27:00.002-05:00

This morning, I had never heard of Troy Davis.

My first indication that he existed was a Tweet about him. I only went on Twitter, mind you, to escape the annoyingness of Facebook's changes.

Please note: I have been a feverent believer in the death penalty for a long time. You do something awful, there's no shadow of a doubt, you should die.

So I started looking up the facts of Troy Davis's case skeptically. I read, all day, various different sources and accounts and such about him and his case. And what I read disturbed me.

Davis was convicted of killing an off duty cop in 1991. There was eyewitness testimony. This was the basis of his conviction.

Except that many witnesses signed affidavits stating that they were coerced into police into providing the testimonies. Seven recanted - many were illiterate, in prison, or teenagers when their testimony sent Davis to Death Row. Nine people stated that it was the other suspect who had actually killed the police officer. There was no physical evidence.

You see, justice isn't supposed to fail. We're not supposed to kill people when things like this happen. The justice system is supposed to correct these kinds of errors in appeals. Or they aren't supposed to happen at all.

And yet at 11:08pm EST, after being denied a stay, Troy Davis was executed. His death is a tragedy and a travesty. There was too much doubt to make his execution right, just or good. I don't know what kind of a man he was at his core. I will not call him a hero or perfect or beyond reproach. But I do not believe we had enough evidence to brand him a murderer, or to take his own life.

And so tonight I sit, weeping for someone I have never met, someone who may have died at the hands of the people as a total innocent. And I find myself reevaluating my stance on the death penalty. Because how many other Troy Davises are out there? How many other people are poor or minorities and can't get a fair shake at things?

Even one innocent life lost at the hands of the system is too cruel of a price.

Tonight, I am asking all of my friends to look at The Innocence Project. It's getting some heavy traffic tonight and may be slow to load. But they help wrongly convicted people be exonerated. It's a worthy and good cause.

RIP Troy Davis. "The incident that night was not my fault. I did not have a gun. I did not personally kill your son, father or brother. I am innocent. Look deeper into this case, so you can really find the truth. For those who are about to take my life, may god have mercy upon your souls and may god bless your souls."

May angels lead you in.

Sleep

2011-09-19T21:25:00.003-05:00

Hi, I'm Star, and I have not slept more than 4 uninterrupted hours in about two years now.

My kid, you see, thwarted that at the end of my pregnancy, and continues to thwart it by night nursing like constantly.

Sleep and I are also at an odds. I mean, I've read all the studies. I know I'm, like, prematurely aging myself and probably inviting coronary disease and all sorts of nonsense by not sleeping enough (I average like six hours a night.) And my body wants sleep. Desperately.

But sleeping feels like something that's a luxury. Once I wake up, I can't nap or anything. Feels irresponsible. I've got shit to do, y'all. Also, I like doing things. I want to get my tasks for the day completed and then I want to have some time FOR ME. Frivolous time, where I do what I want. And that doesn't include sleeping. Especially not with a baby starfish who manages to take up 90% of my bed WHEN SHE'S NOT EVEN TWO.

Why is she still in my bed, you ask? Please refer back to waking up half the night to nurse. I could night wean her, but from my limited attempts, I can already tell that this is going to be a particularly awful brand of utter and complete hell. If I can roll over and nurse her and dose off, SO much better than getting out of bed to actually nurse her and put her somewhere else. I'm lazy!
But my freaking god, I would cut someone for 8 uninterrupted, non-bed-hogged hours.

I'm better than Hallmark at greeting cards. Sort of.

2011-09-18T09:57:00.002-05:00

When I moved to Missouri, one of the things I loved were the old plantation house looking places. You see, I'm this huge nerd for Gone With the Wind (the book - I've never seen the whole movie because my devotion to the book is that slavish) and they made me think of how I pictured her plantation and those around it.

There's one architectural feature that I especially love about those homes, and it is the columns on the porches. I love those. I know not a damn thing about architecture, but those columns always seemed full of such beauty and strength and grace. It felt like, they, singlehandedly, held up that entire damn house. The elements don't bother those columns at all. They thumb their nose at the wind and rain and baking down sun. "I got this," they say. "You can't make me fall. I'm holding up a motherfucking house here." And they continue on in their quiet strength, making the world a more structurally sound place.

A few years ago, I worked for a publishing company. There I met this chick. And I was, in typical fashion, a smart ass. She tossed back an equally sarcastic remark to me like it was nothing. And I've adored her ever since.

You, my dear friend, are a column on a plantation house. You are gorgeous and amazing and you bear burdens that would cripple most people and you do it like it's nothing. You are brilliant and hilarious and you are always putting other people first. You humble everyone around you with your awesomeness. Never underestimate your impact on the world. You make it a better place for everyone who knows you.

And on this day, your birthday, you deserve hearts and flowers and sunshine and roses. Or maybe horses and motorcycles. Whatever is your fancy.

I hope it is grand. Happy birthday, Atina.

Limits

2011-09-17T09:20:00.003-05:00

I am not a person who does things by halves, generally. If I get in a mood to, say, extensively clean my house, I will be on my hands and knees scrubbing tiles with a toothbrush. If I love you, I would pretty much do anything short of homicide for you. And if I genuinely hate you (not an emotion I truly feel often,) you should probably pray we never meet in a dark alley.

Running is hard for me. My normal, me-like inclination is to go balls out on it. Run like demons are chasing me. Run hard enough that I can't think of anything but my feet on the pavement. Fast and hard.

Running is not a balls out exercise. It's something where you have to know when to push yourself and when to throttle back. I am amazing at pushing myself; I am awful at throttling back. Especially since part of why I like running is the fact that it does push the thoughts out of my head. The faster I run, the more that happens.

But I am just starting, really, and I have to learn to be patient, too. Another virtue I lack.

I really look forward to the day that I can maintain the pace that I want. Until then, I work on knowing my limits.

Nonsense, mostly

2011-09-14T22:16:00.002-05:00

Blogger just told me this blog has 100 posts. So that's fun. Some of you (ok, probably none of you) have read my nonsense 100 times. Go me. Or you. Something.

But the problem that I run into here, kind of, is that you all know me. So I can't ever talk about the shit I want to talk about. So I keep being tempted to create a huge fake persona, and write a fake blog that's actually all of the real, honest shit about my life. But I'm an actual real person, and only like 5 people give a shit what I write on here. My fake person would just be one of a sea of billions of stupid blogs and no one would care. And it's not simply the catharsis of writing that appeals to me, but the connection. I like blogs that I read because I get it, because there's this thing, the "I can relate to that!" feeling. It's the thing that would be missing if I was fake. Because what would I do to cultivate a readership if I made a fake account? Make a fake Facebook? Fake meet fake people and then urge them to read my shit? Post my own shit on my real Facebook and just disavow writing it?

You see why this is problematic?

This is the place, on the interwebs, where I'm probably the most honest, and I'm not even that honest here anymore. Because honesty can be used against you. Honesty leads to vulnerability which leads to other people fucking with you. And I have seriously no time for that shit. I get myself into enough shit on a daily basis, I don't need you to throw me into any, too.

Not you like you guys. Just in general.

This is another pretty nonsensical blog, I'm sure. Lately, that's the only time I'm compelled to write. Because by typing things out, clean black words on a blank white screen, everything is supposed to make sense again. Or at least feel less. "Less what, Star. You left out a word." No, I didn't. Just less.

I had this conversation today with someone about various things. A lot of it was random bullshit. And some of it was really incredibly nice stuff about me, which I utterly and honestly deserve none of. Truth. But this person is a goddamn champion, and subsequently, I want to direct said person to this blog. Because that is how people see you. I know it seems all romantic and you might extract the romantic connotations, but other than that, yeah. You wake up rooms. You have absolutely no idea you do it, either, and it cracks me up. Anyways, this is my momentary shout out to you, my friend. *raises wine glass*

Loss

2011-09-05T22:13:00.003-05:00

Loss is a strange motherfucker.

We talk about losing things a lot. Sometimes they're tangible; money, a pen, a pet, a person. Sometimes they're intangible; faith, hope, love, dignity. Which is worse? Hell, I don't know. I don't even know if "intangible" is a real word or if I just made that shit completely up. It's something I would do.

I feel a lot of loss lately, and the weird part is that I'm not even certain what I'm actually mourning here. Or if I'm even mourning it at all. Is there sadness in that bitterness and regret, or is it something else? Is this exhaustion of the soul simply proceeding my rise from the ashes, a phoenix in stilettos?

Fuck if I know.

I know, this blog is rambling and strange and emo and possibly a little off-putting. If I have no earthly idea what I'm trying to say, however will the seventeen of you that actually read this drivel?

And don't worry. This is random and strange, but not some odd internet manifesto before I off myself or something like that. That will never happen. I'm not broken. I still have worth. This I know.

But I miss things, both tangible and intangible, right now. So much so that sometimes the loss overwhelms me and I just want to cry. Fun fact: it's difficult for me to cry more than one or two tears in general lately. At least for things concerning me. For things like kidnapped or abused kids states away, or other people's losses, I can produce floods of them. For myself, they refuse to come. I find it hard to be vulnerable. This blog is probably as close as it gets, and I don't even know if I'll hit publish. I have about 7 other posts that I've started that remain in my edits because I just can't share whatever they are about. Too personal, too much, too painful.

So now I'll finish this, as confused as I started it. "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go."

Bodies and Sex and Boobs Oh My

2011-08-22T19:25:00.004-05:00

I got into a Facebook discussion today about breastfeeding, and one of my friends said that she was grossed out by breastfeeding, because she always saw her breasts as sexual and she couldn't get past that. (I want to segue for a second here to say that this friend is very pro other people breastfeeding, this was just something she couldn't do.)

I actually hear this a lot. I would say that two to five times a week, I have people expressing concerns about feeding a baby with a part of their body that has, until now, been totally sexual for them.

I could go into a discussion about how sexualized the breast is in the Western world and how sad it is that women can only see them in a sexual manner - but that's not where I want to go with this.

Instead, I want to talk about the fun contradiction of being a girl.

Please understand - I LOVE being a chick. Love it. I love long hair and nails and makeup. I adore glitter and the color pink and clothes and heels. Big sunglasses? Jewelry? Skinny jeans? Sign me up for all of it. And being/looking sexy? I love it. I consider myself super hot, thankyouverymuch, and I have confidence in spades in most situations.

And this is often a problem for some people. Although we sexualize everything in our culture, heaven forbid you fall outside of the realm of acceptable sexy to anyone. Then you're a whore. A slut. A skank. A number of other words that have been thrown at me, and probably most of the rest of the people with vaginas who are reading this blog. We want a gorgeous half naked girl draped artistically in our perfume ad, but put a real girl in a low cut shirt and, damn - can we even handle that? She's a whore, or she's just tempting men into illicitness and we should probably, like, burn her at the stake.

I own my sexuality and I am unashamed. I also have more male than female friends in real life, and they have never once been unable to handle being around me without molesting me. It's sheer insanity. I can hang out with them in short skirts or cleavage baring stuff and be ok. Could it be that men are actually not animals and are able to function around sexiness - just like women can function around hot men without literally ripping their clothes off? Gasp. In fact, the very few times someone has crossed the line with me, it's my guy friends who have been like, "Um, no. Not ok. You need to respect our friend."

And could it maybe be that our own issues of inadequacy - spawned from the societal contradictions out there - that those are the reasons that we brand other women whores and sluts? Because it's us doing it, girls. I can count on one hand the number of times a guy has called me a whore or slut. In thirty years, less than five is not actually a massive number. I could not, however, even begin to put a number on the amount of times that a girl has labeled me that. I can say that it would require me to be an utter freak of nature to even begin, because it's for sure more than twenty. And for what? What benefit does all the slut-shaming and whore calling do to us? It doesn't make us more attractive, or nicer, or smarter. It doesn't solve the very real feminist issues out there. It doesn't keep little girls from learning that their bodies aren't good enough in any form ever and that they should both fear and loathe them. It does give a really nice out to the douchebags out there who use it when they hurt or rape girls, though. I mean, if she's a whore, she was asking for it, right? For those of you who think only miscreants use that defense and everyone sees through it, you're wrong.

Then you have the other side of the coin. The breastfeeding side. The side where OMFG vaginas and boobs have non-sexual purposes. We're pretty uncomfortable with our biological functions, too. A breastfeeding woman is too indecent to have around boys, and she should be covering that shit up to not corrupt youth and also, again, entice men to stray. Jesus, men, I'm so sorry for you. We really seem to buy that you just cannot keep that shit in your pants ever. While I'm sure that this gives a great out to some douches out there, I imagine that most of you kind of hate it all. Anyways. Breastfeeding moms, they're gonna glamourize pregnancy and make men go into fits of sexual insanity, and break up families and corrupt the youth of the nation. FOR REALS YOU ALL. It's just bad. I mean, you're a mom now. You can't have boobs! Not even functional ones! Go put on your mom jeans and stop making people uncomfortable.

So there you have it. If you're too sexy, you're screwed. Showing the biological side of a sexual part? Screwed. And if you, like me, do both - dear god, I'm not even sure what to call us. Super mega extra ninja sluts. Destroying the fabric of America. WORSE THAN THE GAYS.

Ladies, it is time to take our sexuality and our biology back. It is time that we relearn confidence in ourselves and our bodies. It's time that we realize that NO ONE is the Madonna OR The Whore, and that we are all delightful combinations of various different things. It is time that we stop pigeonholing ourselves and each other and truly loving our bodies and ourselves for what we are and what we do. And it is way beyond time that we shut up with the slut/whore nonsense.

I am whatever you say I am.

2011-08-22T13:54:00.003-05:00

I really, really didn't want to write this blog post.

I agonized over whether or not to bother. I went back and forth. And if I did write it, how should I write it? Sometimes I envisioned it as being just full of vicious rhetoric and avengeyness (it's a word, I just typed it.) Sometimes I envisioned just clearing my name.

It will be neither of those.

Here's all I want to say on this: There's a LOT of shit being talked about me right now. It's not the first time, and it very likely won't be the last. However, there are several sides to this story, and most haven't heard mine. I'm not going to tell it here. This isn't an expose and I am weary of the entire goddamned topic by now. If you want to believe what's being said, that's your choice. You can go on, you can hate me, you can also talk shit. That's all you. Delete me on Facebook, stop talking to me. Will it hurt my feelings? Perhaps marginally. But I'm gonna choose to focus on the other people, the ones who've said, "Yeah, I heard this, but I know that can't be the whole story because it makes no sense," or those who have said, "You know what? I'm not going to get involved; I'm just going to be Switzerland* here and let everyone else figure out their shit." Those people are awesome.

Besides, I discovered long ago one thing - when you sling mud, you get fucking covered in the shit. Doesn't take too long until people are turning it back on you, wondering how, if you're so squeaky clean, you got all that mess on your shoes. I've been burned in that respect more than once. I'm almost thirty now and I'm getting to the point where I feel like a pathetic loser when I court drama.

And before anyone freaks the fuck out thinking that this blog or any part of it is some kind of dig against anyone, it's not. When I'm a bitch, I am far less subtle about it.

Comments are closed on this, because the entire subject is closed as far as I'm concerned.

(*Thanks to the lovely Karina for pointing out that I used the wrong country here. Because I am a nerd lol.)

We are all Habiba

2011-06-15T14:42:00.003-05:00

Imagine that you are the mother of a 15 month old.

Not a stretch for many of the people I know.

Now imagine that you have fallen on awfully hard times.

Again, not a stretch for some of you.

Imagine that you have lost your home. You and your child are without shelter, without work, scared, alone. You have left an abusive partner.

So you suck up your pride. After all, you have a child to think of. A child that you love, a child that deserves the best. And even though things are pretty grim, you have to take care of your baby. That's the important thing. It would be for me, at least, and I imagine for every parent out there. Your kid comes first. So you go to a shelter. You go there because it is your last hope. Because you dream of a better life, but you seriously need help now.

And so you go there. And you try to comply with what they say to do. But they tell you you have to wean your baby. And your baby is probably a little freaked out by the change - toddlers don't handle them well, after all - and weaning is stressful. Stressful to the baby. Stressful to you. So you refuse. Because, really, it's BREASTMILK. Nursing is recommended by the World Health Organization until at least age two - the average world weaning age is three to four. Even your country's top physicians recommend it. And, being in a group home situation, what is better for your baby than immune protection tailored to her environment? After all, it's not like you have tons of money to go ahead and get medical care.

It is with this reasoning that you politely refuse to wean.

And with that, you are plunged into a nightmare.

Your daughter, your sweet, 15 month old child who knows no other care provider and has not been separated from you, is ripped away. You are kicked out of the home while your child is kept from you. Your breasts swell, used to being relieved by nursing. Your child is presumably a wreck - kiddos don't do well removed from a loving caregiver. You are a wreck. SOMEONE HAS TAKEN YOUR CHILD. You were not given the chance to say goodbye or to plead your case.

Now imagine that in the past 14 days, you have seen your precious child for 2 hours total. Imagine how you explain to your baby why she is with someone else. Imagine how you feel when she is taken away again after a short visit. Imagine being a fit parent, whose only crime was being poor. Now tell me how you feel. Tell me if this is ok.

Yet this is the exact scenario faced by a young mother in Spain. I am ashamed, today, to admit my Spanish decent. I am ashamed that the country of my ancestors is allowing something so cruel and tragic and anti-family. Anti-child. Anti-mother.

If you are human, you cannot help but think that this is horrible. If you are a parent, you cannot help but feel for this mother. If you have ever been economically disadvantaged, you know how powerless you already feel and how terrible this is.

If you have a heart, it is breaking for Habiba.

Please, please, please my friends. Please sign this petition to help this mom get her child back. Please help reunite this family. Please take a stand for basic human rights.

(If you are having a hard time on the site, since the actual signing part is in Spanish: nombre=first name. Apellido = last name. Tu correo-e = e-mail address. Cód. Postal = zip code. Click the little box to accept the terms and then click Firma la peticion.)

Another Childbirth Blog

2011-06-08T08:38:00.004-05:00

I hopped on the treadmill yesterday at work. Typically, if I have 15 minutes to do this, I catch up on breastfeeding stuff or listen to a breastfeeding podcast so that I don't feel like a giant slacker, but yesterday my podcast wouldn't work. So I grabbed an old issue of Self magazine. And I found this article. For those of you who don't want to read it (but you should, it's good), it examines childbirth, mostly from the perspective of the author, who had a very traumatic birth experience. As I was reading it, I came across this quote:

"By now, one movie, two books, four doulas and approximately 15 mothers had told me that my traumatic birth was my fault, the problems all stemming from my not believing in my body...Would we ever tell someone whose liver has failed that it was because she didn't believe in it?"

THAT. That is the problem with labor and delivery and birth and judgment. Right there.

I mean, just take a look at some of the comments with this online version:

"I'm so disappointed in this article. The author is ignorant and ill-prepared to write on such an issue."

"she is not to blame for her traumatic birth (which to me sounds like every recount of any hospital birth I have ever heard) because she didn't trust her body but because she was VERY uneducated about the whole process. You researched this article more than you researched your birth (and that's not saying much) and you were unprepared and surprised throughout the whole process."

"Women just need to be more assertive with doctors and not let them scare you into the worst possible scenario. Just tell yourself, whose gonna deliver your baby after the apocalypse, its gonna be you and your mate. Be strong ladies and take back your bodies from doctors and the government."

If you don't get the birth you wanted or planned, it shouldn't be your fault. No one else should get to cast judgment on you for it not working out. That's bullshit, right there. I am SO INCREDIBLY SICK of the judgment that comes along with birthing a baby. My friend Summer has told me, several times, that she didn't feel badly about having a c-section at all - until the natural birth advocates made her feel like shit over it by telling her how it was all her fault. If you're reading this and you're one of those people, please note: you are not helping "the cause." You are, in fact, sounding like a huge tool and everyone but your equally judgy peers secretly dreams of punching you out. Fact. (This isn't the people who gently try to inform people that they should educate themselves, btw - it's the community that goes, "Well, if you hadn't done a,b,c, it would have worked out." YOU HAVE NO WAY OF KNOWING THAT SO SHUT UP.)

Should women be empowered and strong and educated? Oh, absolutely. But when you're having waves of contractions and in pain, it's NOT always easy to stand up for yourself, and all the damn research and reading and interviewing and doulas in the world may not help that. Instead of taking about how terrible women are, and how uneducated and untrusting of our bodies we are, why don't we point that finger right back at the practitioners who are taking advantage of this to push women into things they don't want? Why aren't birth advocates asking to speak at med schools, or talking to obs? In rape, if we blame the victim, it's terrible and shameful. In birth, if we do, it's normal. That has GOT to change. Birth is in a terrible state in the US, but we can't fix it by telling every woman how dumb she is.

Sometimes, I hear people advocate this whole idea of how every woman should labor at home with a midwife and everything would be amazing. Utopian but not at all feasible. Not everyone can do that, and, more, not everyone wants that. When I attended doula training, I remember the instructor talking about how, at her first meeting with patients, she had them sketch an ideal birth. Like, if money, and location and even reality weren't barriers, where would they feel most comfortable birthing? She had people draw clouds, and fields, and big giant tubs and plush beds. One woman drew a hospital. She told her that the idea of birthing anywhere else quite frankly terrified her. She had known her doctor all her life; family and friends staffed the hospital; she was confident and happy there. That was her happy place. She went in dilated to a 1 and did, in fact, have a drug free all natural vaginal delivery within 24 hours.

I'm gonna end this blog here, but I do want to leave it with one more quote from the article, from the author of my very favorite pregnancy/birth book:

"I don't understand this phrase 'take back your birth,'" nurse-midwife Pam England, creator of Birthing From Within, a popular book and series of childbirth preparation classes, tells me. "Who took it? What would a woman tell herself it meant about her if she failed to meet the criteria she made up for 'taking back' her birth? I am concerned that this phrase, meant to generate action and a feeling of empowerment, may actually be generated by or feeding the victim part of her."

"It's just easy for you"

2011-06-02T08:56:00.008-05:00

So, after 12 1/2 months, I am back down to my pre-pregnancy size.

As many of you know, I struggled with my weight my entire life. I was, after I had Rhiannon, 310 pounds. I lost 170ish pounds, then got knocked up again and gained 70ish back.

Let's do a brief, picture laden recap of Star throughout her weight loss journey here:

Me, not too long before I got preggo with Rhi. About 280 lbs:

Me, pregnant with Rhi. 300+ lbs:

Me, 2 years after having Rhi. 135 lbs (my lowest weight ever - it fluctuated a lot from 135 - 140):

Me, pregnant with Keira. 200 lbs:

Me, probably 1 1/2 months post Keira. I'd say 175/180 lbs:

Me, this weekend. 140 lbs. I consider this pre-pregnancy because this was my typical weight. 135 was the low end of normal for me. I was generally 138-140 lbs:

My boobs are bigger now, but I can totally rock out those jeans in the blonde, skinny Star picture.

Anyways, I was talking to a friend the other day, who REALLY wants to lose weight, and I was explaining how I did it, and encouraging her (more on how I did it in a minute) and she said, "But I'm not like you. It's just easy for you."

Let me break this down for you really quick.

I am the girl with the biggest sweet tooth on the planet. I have two friends on Facebook who regularly talk about food they are making, and I regularly implore them to bring me some. I also LOVE bread. And pasta. And fries. So much. On 25 out of 30 days of every month, I would cut someone for a Cold Stone Birthday Cake Remix. I can sit down with one of those loaves of specialty bread and eat at least three quarters of it in a sitting. And I have asthma, which flares with cardio exercise (which I don't particularly love anyways.)

Yet I lost 170 pounds the first time and 70 this time.

It. Was. NOT. Easy.

The first time around, I did Weight Watchers, which helped me learn better eating habits (which fell to the wayside when I was pregnant.) The second time, I briefly flirted with Weight Watchers again before just charting on My Fitness Pal. Both times, I forced myself to find the time and the energy to work out. For me, this has to be in a gym. I am incapable of staying on track at home - I get easily distracted, I pause things, I walk off, I come back, I check Facebook, I talk to Shane, I stop to watch Modern Family, the kids distract me... I do 20-30 minutes of cardio (usually treadmill and stairmaster, this go around, but treadmill and elliptical before) and then I do strength training. This is important, because if you don't tone after losing a lot of weight, you get flabby. I like strength training more than cardio, for sure. I spend 30-40 minutes here. I do this 4x a week.

As far as eating, I eat around 1300 calories a day. I am still nursing and I am not having any issues producing milk here; however, I would caution nursing moms to cut calories a little at a time. It probably isn't an issue to lose weight while nursing, but most sources will say that especially in the first year you should be no lower than 1500. And if you're eating 2600 a day now, you need to taper that down gradually so you don't kill someone. I eat a lot of greek yogurt, fruits, veggies, and poultry. Turkey and chicken primarily. I have discovered a love of salads (as long as they have plenty of tasty stuff in them.) Our house gets everything whole - whole wheat and whole grains.

I also splurge and eat crap sometimes. I had a shake and brats on Memorial Day. Because that's what I wanted, damn it. You can't cut out what you love. You just have to eat it less.

And there are a lot of healthier variations on the things you love too. The whole wheat pasta is a good example. I've also made tortilla and english muffin pizzas. I've substituted Red Mango for ice cream and yogurt for sour cream. I cut out soda almost completely and now I don't find I want it very much. It's amazing how your tastes actually change to embrace the healthiness if you stick with it.

If you are trying or wanting to try to lose weight, I urge you to go for it. Don't say you can't, don't make excuses, and don't expect it all to fall off instantly. It takes time. But it's so worth it. And if you have any questions, I will happily answer them. And if you do My Fitness Pal, add me - I'm starrod - so I can cheer you on.

Conversations with a Formula Company

2011-05-20T20:17:00.005-05:00

So today I was at a conference. Our booth was to promote breastfeeding, of course. We were right next to someone representing Abbott Labs. Abbott, as you may know, makes Similac.

At first, I was actually very impressed. The newest "breastfeeding bag" was displayed. For those of you who don't know, when you have a baby, and you are discharged from the hospital, you get a lovely bag from a formula company. If you are formula feeding, you get one bag; if you're breastfeeding, you get another.

The breastfeeding bag promotes breastfeeding and is full of helpful, beneficial breastfeeding stuff, right? Um, no. Traditionally, they have a supply of formula, coupons for formula, a breastfeeding guide and some breastmilk storage bags that you can use for formula when the formula you're given totally sabotages your supply.

So I was THRILLED to see that the new bag on display had NO FORMULA in it.

"Is that what you guys are giving out?" I asked the guy behind the table.

"Um, yeah. I think. I don't really handle the hospital part."

"But...it doesn't have formula! That's like ethical."

He looked at me in utter confusion at that. Poor man. Anyways, he said, "Well, I think we're moving away from promoting in the hospitals so much." (italics mine. He didn't say that all weirdly.)

I. Was. So. Excited. As some of you know, "breastmilk bags" are the bane of the lactation consultant's existence. They contain just enough formula, as I said, to sabotage a new mom's supply. And they sit there in your cupboards, seductively calling you in the early days when you're tired and confused and unsure of yourself. And maybe it's overnight and you're scared, and not sure who to call of even if you can call anyone. So you use it. And since formula is a heavier meal (like Thanksgiving vs. a normal meal) it sits on your baby's tummy longer. So you go longer between feedings. That must mean that you didn't have enough milk, right? So you replace a couple more feedings. Before you know it, KABLAM! You have a crappy supply and you totally doubt your body. Then you're a Similac Strong Mom and they can get literally hundreds to thousands of dollars from you.

Anyways.

So the guy tells me, "Hey, hang on - I'll get the guy who handles the hospital stuff to answer your question."

He walks away, and I look at the bag. It has Kleenex, wipes, 10 newborn diapers, and a toy. Awesome!

The Similac rep comes up, introduces himself, and asks me what questions I have. I say, "These are your new bags?" I gesture to it.

"Oh yeah," says he.

"There's not formula in them?!?"

He here looks sheepish. "Well...they do. But there's only a two day supply, and we're really promoting breastfeeding. And I know that they say that the sample might mess up breastfeeding, but we're really not trying to do that here." He pulls out the actual bag from under the table and invites me to take a look.

It was labeled "breastfeeding" and contained: formula, the bag, coupons for diapers, a cooler bag, "breastmilk" storage bags, a sample of wipes, and information on breastfeeding.

I looked at the breastfeeding information, because I honestly wanted to see what it was like.

There were 2 pamphlets on infant feeding.
The good:
There was legitimately good information on bottlefeeding a baby. Since most people, even breastfeeding moms, eventually use a bottle, I find it HIGHLY important to know how to bottlefeed. We all have this idea about holding the baby prone and holding a bottle upside down in their mouth, but that's a terrible way to feed. You should hold your baby semi-upright and not just pour the milk down the baby's throat. And that was essentially what the pamphlet said.

There was some decent breastfeeding information. It correctly said that your baby should be pooping 3x a day by 3 days and had a decent diaper diary in there that accurately showed breastmilk poops. There was also a graphic showing that a newborn's tummy is the size of a marble and a ping pong ball on day 3. This is true, and important to know.

The bad:
Um, everything else? Lol.

First was the chart of how often to breastfeed. Here it is:

I tell people that they will be feeding their babies 8-12 times a day in the beginning. That is what you do. Babies have tiny tummies and breastmilk is the perfect food, so it is digested quickly. New babies nurse every 60-90 minutes on average. But make a mom think she's nursing more than the average, and, whoa. Well, you have a starving baby! You're not doing it right! Just c'mon and use formula. Clearly your anatomy can't make superior product properly.

Also, remember the tummy sizes we talked about? The marble and ping pong ball? The ones Similac even mentions?

You try to pour 2-3 ounces of liquid in a marble or ping pong ball and tell me how that works for you. Hint: not well. Yet, we're so shocked that kids overeat and are fat. Not at all something we're forcing on them or anything. Even if you are formula feeding, you should NOT be giving your new baby 2 ounces at a time.

Another fun gem was the "how to tell that your baby is getting enough" section. Did you know that your baby should sleep for 2 hours straight after every feeding? Let's not at all take into account the very high percentage of babies who sometimes like to nurse one side, take a fifteen or twenty minute nap, and nurse the next. Nope, they shouldn't be doing this common newborn behavior. There must be something wrong!

And then I came to the hotline. Similac's "feeding experts," billed as lactation consultants.

"Are these lactation consultants IBCLC?" I asked. Full disclosure: I knew they couldn't be. The Code of Ethics for IBCLCs says they cannot work for formula companies.

"Oh yeah."

I kept looking at the pamphlet, but I must have tipped him off in some way that I thought that that was utter bs, because he then said, "Well, Similac contracts with LifeCare and they provide certified lactation consultants that receive similar training to IBCLCs."

(The full story is that the IBCLCs that worked for LifeCare, who *does* provide legitimate breastfeeding support, said that they would absolutely NOT be working for Similac's line, so other people were given an 80 hour training course and set loose "helping" moms. IBCLCs, to even be allowed to test this year, must have 45 hours of lactation specific education and 1000 hours of breastfeeding contact hours. That doesn't even count the numerous hours of studying someone has to do to pass the IBLCE exam. So, yeah - not even close to comparable to 80 hour online courses. Also, lactation professionals have called that line and reported that the advice in incomplete or downright wrong.)

*Sigh*

To wrap this up, I want to say that I am not anti-formula. When I needed it, I was thrilled it existed, and I've even used Similac in the past. I don't think Similac is the most unethical formula company (Nestle takes the cake there.) But I am very disappointed at the bait and switch on their table. While I don't love formula companies giving out bags, if they didn't have samples in them, I would see that as a step in the right direction. And, let's face it, Similac - you've had some godawful press recently (bug recall, the aforementioned hotline issues and the disastrous phone app.) Might be nice to do something that didn't suck, huh?

Monogamy

2011-05-17T09:45:00.003-05:00

Monogamy is hard.

I regularly kid around that I couldn't be a polygamist because I couldn't handle more than one relationship at a time, and that's not totally fictitious. Relationships are difficult. It's much easier, in some ways, to do whatever you want to do and not have to run that by anyone else ever. And I say this from within a relationship where my significant other truly doesn't care if I want to go out with my friends or randomly go shopping and doesn't fine tooth comb what I spend or where I spend it or whatever. But there are still things I have to clear with him, because he's the other half of the family decision making unit. I can't, say, decide I want to move tomorrow and just go do it.

And attraction. Listen, if you tell me you've never been attracted to anyone else ever while in a relationship, I will call you a liar to your face. Because you have been. It happens. There's a lot of good looking people out there, and certainly some of them do it for you. It's fine. It's not criminal or wrong, it's human nature.

Since my early twenties, my view on cheating has changed significantly. While I absolutely think that if you are in a serious monogamous relationship you should keep it in your pants or get out of the relationship (if it's that big of a deal to you,) I'm not all that concerned about cheating, at least physically. Do I want it to happen in my relationship? God no. Would I be super upset if Shane cheated on me? Of course. Would I forgive him? Quite possibly. If he was, like, conducting a huge love affair with another woman and wanting to actively leave me to be with her, that would be harder and I truly don't know that I could get past that. However, if he just allowed attraction to happen and it was a mistake, well, that's a little more understandable. We could, with time and effort, work through that, probably. I wouldn't necessarily see that as being worth destroying our entire life. Unless I was already unhappy in the relationship, because then I would see it as time to move on.

Honestly, if he ever had a one night thing with someone, and it involved protection and wasn't going to happen ever again, I wouldn't want to know. I think a lot of people tell their significant others about events like that out of their OWN guilt, not out of any interest in full disclosure. And what does it do? Just causes hurt and pain. If it's done and there's no pregnancy risk or risk of disease, just shut up about it!

But you know what you don't do?

You don't knock somebody up and then lie about it for ten years like Arnold Schwarzenegger. You don't wait until you fulfill your selfish ambitions to blow two families apart. Two families, because the person he had a kid with was married too and just pretended that that kid was her husband's. That's just fucked up. That's the situation where you come clean, and you apologize your ass off and you deal with the fucking fall out, whatever it may be. Because you've just put a new person on Earth, and they haven't done anything wrong. They deserve honesty THEN, not ten years later. They deserve to not have their preteen life become a media circus. Ten is awful anyways, because it starts the liking of the opposite sex and the ugly phase of puberty and all that. Doing it while Perez Hilton blogs about you is probably a fucking nightmare.

Fail, Arnold. Just fail.

The No-Poo Report: Being Crunchy for Beauty

2011-05-06T11:35:00.002-05:00

We live in an area that appears to have the hardest water known to mankind. And this has become a problem. Clothes wear out faster. Soap doesn't come off as well. And my hair has been TERRIBLE.

Originally, we planned to get a water softener and fix the whole mess. But we're contemplating a lot of different things as far as where we will live next year, and so I'm holding off.

But my hair could not wait anymore.

Yup, that's right. I'm vain enough that I just prioritized the way my hair looks over like everything else. But, for real, guys, it's bad. It's crunchy on the ends and greasy at the top and I never feel like it's totally clean. And I hate it. I have used pretty much every shampoo/conditioner possible in an effort to make it better, and it hasn't worked worth a damn.

I have some friends who are way more into natural stuff, and for a few months, several have told me that I should "no-poo" my hair. No-poo is a very unfortunate moniker simply meaning "cut out the damn shampoo and conditioner and put baking soda and vinegar in your hair."

This, in no way, sounded like a good plan. So I blew it off. Sorry guys. Also, no-poo people tell me that it takes awhile for your hair to not disgusting upon starting no-poo. One friend helpfully told me that her hair looked like shit for a month, "but then was awesome!"

Well, I didn't want disgusting hair for a month. And, yes, I had heard "cheaper" "less toxic" and "environmentally friendly" also get mentioned as pros, but somehow they didn't overpower having terrible hair for at least a month. Which, I guess, shows you that I suck at being crunchy, lol.

But last night, my hair felt awful, and I was irked, and so I, without really thinking about it, leapt into no-poo full force, mixing up baking soda and water and working it through my hair without even saying anything to anyone.

Which led to this conversation:
Shane: "Um, what's on your hair? What are you DOING?"
Me: "It's called no-poo. You use natural stuff and it's supposed to make your hair suck less and stuff."
Shane: "No-poo?"
Me: "Yeah, dumb name, huh?"
Shane: "Does that mean your hair is constipated?"

I love that man.

Anyways, so I baking sodaed, and then I got in the shower and rinsed, then I ran apple cider vinegar and water through my hair.

First no-poo issue - OMFG, apple cider vinegar STINKS. I had to rinse my hair like 24 billion times to feel like it was cleanish and nonstinky. This can apparently be resolved by using white vinegar and mixing essential oils in it. A blog I read suggested vanilla and a stick of cinnamon to make your hair smell yummy. This I will try.

Ok, so out of the shower, de-vinegarfied, and I ran my hand through my hair, which, for once, had like minimal tangles. And felt softer than normal. My scalp felt better, too.

This morning, my hair was still surprisingly manageable and tangle free, my natural wave is more noticeable, and my color is brighter. The only downfall is that my hair is a little static-y. Soft, but static-y. Is that normal? Should I be doing something differently? I have no idea.

So I'll give no-poo (I still hate the name) awhile to work its supposed magic. We'll see. But if my hair gets all gross, I am going straight back to shampoos, no matter how toxic they are.

Osama

2011-05-02T01:31:00.002-05:00

In case you haven't heard, spoiler alert! Osama Bin Laden is dead. And I'm pleased as punch about this.

There are people who think that I shouldn't be, though.

As soon as the death of Osama was announced, my Twitter and Facebook blew the fuck up. Most people were happy. Some were skeptical. Some were bitterly talking about Obama. And some were talking about how terrible we all were.

"How can you people rejoice," one post said, "in the death of a human being?"

Let me break this down for anyone who feels that way.

Osama Bin Laden wasn't your average Joe walking down the street. He wasn't even your average murderer. He was the founder of Al Qaeda. Al Qaeda, as you may or may not remember, has claimed responsibility for the deaths of thousands. It wasn't like they just existed with 9/11. They've done much, much more.

It's not like Osama was a poor, sad, downtrodden man, either. He was a wealthy, college educated man. He didn't have a terrible life that somehow could excuse his vileness and hatred (although, really, it couldn't. Sorry.)

He had advantages and prosperity, and he allowed hatred to twist him into an evil person who longed for the death of others. I may use the word hate sometimes or say things like, "OMG, traffic should DIE IN A FIRE" but I've never actually, really hoped for the death or anyone. And I doubt you have either. Osama did though. He hated you. Yup, you. He wanted you dead. Along with anyone else reading this blog who isn't a total extremist. You have kids? He thought they were a blight on the Earth and wanted them dead too. Picture your child as a brand new baby; sweet, innocent, perfect. Osama would have happily murdered your child at that point. Why? Because your child was born in a society that he didn't approve of.

As far as "he's just a figurehead" this is kind of true. He was a figurehead and most of the stuff carried out in his name was not committed by him. But people who blow off his death as unimportant miss something important. PEOPLE FOLLOW FIGUREHEADS. Hitler didn't kill everyone who died under his hand, but he was a figurehead who used his power to inspire people to cause the death of others. And it wasn't soldiers or people in the line of fire, so to speak. He inspired people to cold bloodedly murder innocent people by preying on their despair and religion and hopelessness and promising them better. He was a charismatic man who used other to fulfill his twisted, dark, evil desires.

And those who are sad because he was a human being and could have been rehabilitated or treated better - he was shot in the head. We didn't burn him alive, or bury him, or, you know, give him the choice between jumping from a building or waiting to be crushed. We also didn't hijack a plane he was on and terrorize him for awhile before using him to kill others. Nope, that's what his followers did to our innocent citizens. We had a trained marksman shoot him in the head, upon which he died. Some people who think about these things far more than I do say that that is one of the least painful deaths. God, how horrible are we, right?

I'll address rehabilitation just because people have said it, but it's laughable. Sorry, you can't rehabilitate someone who is that twisted. You can take them out so that the people they effect with their hate, the people tat they spread their twisted disease to is lessened. That's best case scenario, and that is what we did.

So, no, I don't feel bad that the man is dead. I'm glad. If that makes me a bloodthirsy savage or someone who isn't intelligent enough to understand the sophistication of how terrorism works, so fucking be it. But I will end on a quote from our President, who I believe summed it up perfectly:

"His demise should be welcomed by all
who believe in peace and human dignity."

Dear Natural Birth Advocates

2011-04-18T18:15:00.002-05:00

I hate you.

Ok, yeah, I'm one of you. But in a weird bit of psychosis, I can't stand you. I know, I'm insane. But hear me out.

I am SO DAMN TIRED of seeing the 2000000000000 things in my feed every day about why natural birth is so amazing, but, more than that, I'm tired of the inherent condescension in many of them over "moms who take drugs" or - god forbid! - c-section moms. After all, your cousin's father's sister's daughter-in-law had a homebirth with a breech baby after 10 c-sections and it was all because SHE EMPOWERED HERSELF. SHE TRUSTED HER BODY. If YOU trust your body, YOU can do it too!

Yeah, well, sometimes you fucking can't. I'm proof positive of that.

I don't mean to sound jaded or pissy, but I've had two births that have been such crappy experiences for me that I feel like a have a very mild form of PTSD over them. Seriously. Yet if you listen to the advocates, sunshine and rainbows should have magically propelled my kids from my uterus as long as I just wrapped myself in mother Earth and let it happen.

Let's remember something here, everyone. C-sections came into being for a reason. Sometimes nature fucks up. You can't always help that. Should our country's rate be what it is? Hell no. But should we instantly assume that every mom who has a c-section or an epidural or pitocin is an uneducated hack? Again, hell no.

You know, one of the real issues with activism in general is the condescension that some people pick up with it. The thought that if YOU did it, anyone could, is a)not always right and b)makes anyone that things don't work for feel like less of a person. Not how you sway people to your point of view, guys. Not at all. You gotta have compassion with your activism.

One of the things I've learned in working with breastfeeding moms is that not everyone can do it. Sad, but true. Some of my moms go back to work nearly instantly and can't build up a decent supply. Some have hypoplastic breasts. Some are victims of sexual assault. They aren't lesser because they "failed." In truth, they've done something more difficult that me, the girl who breastfed two kids (even though my experience with Rhiannon was a struggle the whole time.) They've gone, "Ok. This is what I wanted, but it's not working, and I'm not sacrificing my baby on the altar of breastfeeding." That takes an incredible amount of bravery and grace. Giving up a dream that you had and badly wanted is sometimes an act of strength, not weakness.

30 Things - One Year To Go

2011-03-29T12:33:00.003-05:00

Let's talk about how this is progressing, shall we?

1)Find some ways to cook vegetables that we can all agree on
-And by we, I mean Shane. Rhi will eat just about any veggie you put in front of her. Ditto for me. Shane, however, loathes everything but green beans, potatoes, raw carrots, and corn. Do you know how tedious that gets? Very, is the answer. I'm determined to find some way to prepare more things so he will actually eat them. Yeah, not so much yet.

2)Volunteer somewhere
-I want to find some kind of good, local organization to do volunteer work for. I'm not sure what I want to do, or where I want to work...I just want to be sure that they reflect the same ideals that I have. Yay! I do!

3)Have a home that uses more sustainable energy sources
-I want a cob house. I don't think that's in the cards for the next twoish years, because I think we want to wait to build until I get out of college and we live somewhere that we want to stay for a long time (hint:not this state.) But once we move, we won't be using gas at all. Shane's all about switching to solar, and I'd be great with that. ...We have energy efficient bulbs...

4)Go to one of the following places: Spain, Italy, Bali, the Caymans
-Because I want to. It's not gonna happen before 30. Pretty sure.

5)Get a tummy tuck
-This is my last kid, and I lost a crapload of weight. I think after I'm back to the weight I want to be, I deserve to have a cosmetic procedure to give me a flat stomach. It's pretty vain and everything, but I feel like it would be a great reward for my hard work. I'm postponing this, because I want another kid now, maybe.

6)Have a weekly family night where we do something fun
-I really hate how disconnected a lot of people are from their children and partners. I don't want to be that family. I want to be the happy, involved family. So whether we're playing board games or going to Chuck E. Cheese, or baking cookies, I want a night of togetherness. This is easier said than done. But we do have quality time, just not SPECIFIC quality time. :/

7)Eat better foods
-We mostly eat pretty healthy, at least compared to the normal American diet of processed crap. But I'd really like to eat even less processed foods, more organics...have a garden, where we grow our own vegetables and herbs...maybe, since we'll be living in the middle of farms, get more local meat from neighbors. Since I've been working and doing school, it's worse than ever. This ends now.

8)Completely stop shopping at places like WalMart
-It's a necessary evil sometimes here. I really want to shop at less chain stores and more locally owned small businesses, though. I really need to work on this

9)Go back to school
-This one should happen by next fall at the latest. Done and done. I'm there.

10)Have a date night at least bi-weekly
-Remember what I said about families? Well, sometimes, even in families that do all that, the parents totally lose the spark to their relationship and just become friends and partners. If I just wanted a friend and partner, I'd raise my kids with another chick and be celibate, lol. We REALLY need to work on this. Like, a lot.

11)Be a better housekeeper
-While my house is never, like, going to evoke feelings of disgust in anyone, the perils of having a small child mean that it's almost always in a state of disarray to some extent. I really want to improve that. Ha! I've been doing this too! I am awesome!

12)Have a better wardrobe
-I buy tons of adorable things that I love, usually at places like Goodwill. But then somehow they get lost, or the kid or I spill on them, or they don't quite go with anything else, or they aren't quite appropriate for every day. I want to invest in a wardrobe that has nice, well-tailored every day pieces, stuff for going out, et cetera, that's very washable and wearable. And kid friendly, lol. Sort of happening.

13)Learn a foreign language
-I'm not even sure which one. But a foreign language. Uh...not even started

14)Learn to actually swim
-I had lessons, I can do a decent approximation, but I'd like to be able to have the right form. Not yet

15)Learn to do some form of yoga that I actually like
-Man, I have a hard time with yoga. Maybe I've just watched the wrong dvds or something, because I can't really get down with it. I'd like to take a class or something with a really good teacher to see if maybe I can learn to not just think it's horribly boring most of the time. Yes! This has happened! Yay Sienna!

16)Have a well-decorated home
-You know how you go into some houses and you just marvel at how beautifully put together they are? Like, maybe not Martha Stuart living, a little more touchable than that, but a place that's just so warm and inviting? And you go back to your house and are let down at how not like that your home is? I want to have that house. I can't *here*, because it's a rental, but when we move...Pfft. My house is decorated in "early baby." Characterized by toys everywhere.

17)Have a dishwasher
-The worst chore on Earth is handwashing dishes. I'll go extra green on everything else, but, man, I have to have a dishwasher. One kid and two adults produce so damn many dishes I can't keep up. Imagine two kids, two adults. Ugh. I wish.

18)Start composting
-We've started recycling a lot more lately, and I'm already amazed at the reduction in normal household trash. I think composting would really add to that, too. Not yet

19)Get back to bellydance classes
-I love them, and I haven't been for a long time, because of general brokeness and just not having the time. But I'm going to make the damn time for it. In a twenty four hour day, I can surely take one of those hours once a week for myself. Working on it.

20)Keep in better touch with my friends, nearby and far away
-I'm bad at keeping in touch with people, but then I get really sad that I lose touch with friends. So I'm going to try to do better. This is hard for me. But Skype has been helping, family wise.

21)Get more involved with issues I care about
-I do more than most people as far as this is concerned, I think, but I'd like to do even more. On some things, yes. On others no.

22)Find a job where I'm happy at least 85% of the time
-I know no job will ever be something that I love 100% of the time. But lately my job's been pretty monotonous and I feel way less inspired than I did before. I love teaching the kids, I love feeling like I make a difference in that way, but I feel, lately, like nothing we do is good enough for the parents. And it sucks, because I genuinely care about those children, their care, and what they're learning. But it's hard to not just want to say screw it when you have people who are always dissatisfied with what you do. I could take it every once in awhile, but constantly...yeah. Worst is the fact that usually the parents who are complaining are the ones who we seriously need cooperation from, because their kids need extra help or attention. But we can't get it because we're too busy hearing how everything is our fault. So by the time I'm thirty, even though I won't be out of school yet or subsequently have my career going, I want a job that's better than this. I LOVE MY JOB! Win.

23) Be a better cook
-I get bored, I stop paying attention, I burn things. Or over-cook them, or whatever. It's less than awesome. I think I can say this is a work in progress.

24) Spend a little extra money to buy products I really like.
-I wind up fretting over the extra cost, but, man, on some things, the expense is worth it. While I don't always agree that you get what you pay for, it's true in a few cases, and worth the extra. Kind of

25) Spend less on stupid things to make up for #24
-I really do buy stuff I don't need way too often. That needs to change. Eh. Need to work on this more

26) Go the the chiropractor more
-It was worth the money the last time I went, for reals. I need to actually keep up on it. Nope. :/

27) Drink more water
-I really just don't like the taste. But it's the best thing to drink, really...good for you, not full of empty calories. I can tolerate it with lemon. So I need to make it a habit. I actually LIKE water now.

28) Grow my damn hair out
-It goes a little something like this. I start to grow my hair. I get bored. I experiment with colors. I experiment with styles. Eventually, I hack it off out of total boredom, and then I whine because I don't have the face for short hair, and I want it long again. This, I know, is going to be especially prone to happening after I have this baby when my hair is falling out and stuff. So, future Star, DON'T CUT YOUR HAIR!!! DON'T!!! AFTER THE BABY, JUST PUT IT UP UNTIL IT STOPS FALLING OUT!!!!! I listened to you, past Star.

29) Spend more time being actively spiritual
-I used to do this all the time. And while I still take my spirituality very, very seriously, I haven't been able to do the things I normally would have. And I need to, without being more spiritual, I feel very much like I'm not quite myself, like I'm detached from God, so to speak. And that sucks. Need to work on this. A lot.

30) Work on controlling my temper
-I can be a little (overly) emotional sometimes. And I can be a bitch on wheels when I'm angry. I've made huge, huge improvements there, but sometimes I still fly off the handle. So I'm going to try to communicate better and yell less, I guess. lol. I think I'm getting better. Yay!

I am a better songwriter than Bruno Mars

2011-02-28T22:30:00.003-06:00

Grenade by Bruno Mars is the dumbest song ever.

Seriously. Why is this one of the top songs right now? WHY?!? It's cheesy crap, y'all, AND IT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A GOOD BEAT.

And the lyrics...oh, the lyrics.

Here's the chorus:

I’d catch a grenade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Throw my hand on a blade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I’d jump in front of a train for ya (yeah, yeah , yeah)
You know I'd do anything for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Oh, oh
I would go through all this pain,
Take a bullet straight through my brain,
Yes, I would die for ya baby;
But you won't do the same

Ok, first of all, thanks for catching that grenade for me and all, Bruno, but if you just stand there holding the presumably live grenade you just caught for me, don't we both just blow up? So now we're both dead. Awesome. Next time, knock the grenade away, or throw it back, or something. But you can't. Because you're dead. And where does Bruno Mars live, exactly, that live grenades are being tossed around?

Secondly, throwing your hand on a blade isn't that impressive. I've cut my hand before and lots of things suck worse than a clean cut to the hand. Like paper cuts. Bunches of them. And then swimming in the ocean. That would be torture. Also, I had a paper cut on my tongue the other day, and that sucked.

Now jumping in front of a train...what situation would this possibly be necessary in? Is some guy with a handlebar mustache tying me to the tracks? Is that what's going down here? Or am I just randomly standing in the path of a train? In either of those cases, removing me from the tracks would make more sense than jumping in front of it, Bruno. FFS, do you have a death wish?

Blah, blah, blah...more nonsense...and then we end with "but you won't do the same!" No, Bruno, I won't commit pointless suicide or cut my hand for you. Sorry. Go watch Twilight and root for Jacob or something, emo kid.

I would also like to point out that this is on an album called Doo-Wops and Hooligans. I can't even make that shit up. Just...no.

If you're not pissed off, you're not paying attention

2011-02-20T07:33:00.002-06:00

I know a lot of Republicans. Several of them are friends and family that I dearly love. I disagree with most of them quite often.

But we shouldn't disagree about the horrible effects that this new budget the House has proposed will have on America.

Much has been published about a few things that the House has cut in their "60 billion dollar cuts!!!!" But most people are just talking about one or two things. Here's a list of some of the worst parts of the House budget:

*Dismantles the ability to roll out health care reform
I know, I know, many of you have issues with HCR. But hear me out on this. Insurance companies and employers have already begun to amend some things for the roll out of HCR (which the nonpartisan CBO said in an updated assessment that repealing the healthcare law would actually drive up federal deficits by $210 billion by 2021 and leave 22 million more Americans without health insurance.) So, basically, you have a program that has begun suddenly stopping. What yu will see is rising costs and lower coverage, folks. That will occur. And there will be nothing to check it. Good times.

*No funding for Planned Parenthood
Planned Parenthood is NOT an abortion services provider. PP's services only entail about 3% of their business. Honestly, I heard more discussion of abortions at my ob/gyn while pregnant than I ever did at PP. What they do provide, however, are birth control, STD testing/treatments, pap smears, resources for raped women, infertility testing...the list actually goes on and on. Especially to the millions of uninsured Americans, Planned Parenthood is incredibly important.

*A 10% cut in WIC
WIC is a supplemental nutrition program for pregnant women, infants and children. Unlike food stamps, which cover any cold food item you wish, WIC seeks to help people make healthy choices. Nutrition counselling is provided. Food items given through checks are healthy ones like whole grain breads, cheese, milk, beans, fruits and vegetables. WICs also provide breastfeeding support to nursing, low income mothers. This is HUGE - lactation consultants are very pricey, generally women see one once in the hospital and then can't any more because most insurance programs don't cover them. WIC encourages local offices to have an IBCLC on staff and, pretty soon, will be REQUIRING offices to have at least a peer counselor available to talk to prenatal women about the importance of breastfeeding and help them with issues or refer them to others who can that they can afford. WIC also gives and rents breastpumps to working moms who wouldn't be able to afford them otherwise. I can't even begin to tell you how many women tell me that WIC saved their breastfeeding relationship. And, yes, WIC provides formula too. As a mom who had to supplement with her first for a variety of reasons, and had absolutely not budgeted in formula because she only planned to breastfeed, that was a lifesaver.

*Head Start/Early Head Start cuts by 15% PLUS expiration of ARRA funds
Head Start is something that I truly cannot speak highly enough about. It's literally the only early childhood education program for lower income families that has the quality of a private preschool. Head Start is mandated to have a certain amount of staff slots held by degreed teachers; they provide balanced meals to the children; the kids watch no TV, they are actively engaged in learning...the list goes on and on. My daughter goes to Head Start and she has blossomed in so many ways; socially, developmentally, etc. Head Start also reserves slots for children with disabilities and children who are homeless. Early Head Start covers birth to age 3, and, let me tell you - if I had to work and couldn't take Keira, that is the ONLY non-family environment that I would feel comfortable leaving her in. These cuts will mean that ove 200,000 children nationwide will lose their seats. Families will lose their daycare; teachers will lose their jobs.

*K-12 Education - cuts of about 2.1 billion dollars
This is explained really well in this article. Basically, I hope you had no lofty aspirations of your kids having decent schooling under the GOP, because it ain't happening.

*Pell Grants - 24% cuts
Hey! I have a great idea! Let's go ahead and cut funding for higher education in a shit economy when non degreed jobs are closing down in droves or going overseas! Yay! Great plan! Oh! And let's continue cutting it from 2014 on, because no one really need education except rich people. And it's totes not our fault if you're poor, Americans. Yeah, even you, 18 year old. You SHOULD HAVE BEEN BORN IN A WEALTHIER FAMILY.

Other things on the chopping block include weatherization programs, energy assistance programs, the FDA, the EPA, vo-tech and adult education and many, many, many more.

And let's talk about the job impacts of all of this one more time. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE THINGS BEING CUT WILL MEAN JOB CUTS. Job cuts in a crappy economy where unemployment is sky-high and places close down daily. The weatherization program, for instance, keeps contactors working in winter months. The Republicans were supposed to help fix this - yet Boehner said that if jobs were lost "so be it."

So be it?!?!? SERIOUSLY??!?!?!?!?!? Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

This is not acceptable. At all.

Bieber and Palin and Bachmann oh my.

2011-02-18T19:28:00.004-06:00

Ahhhh Justin Bieber.

First of all, I want to preface this blog by saying that I'm totally neutral on the Biebs. I don't have the fever, but I don't hate him. He seems like a pretty normal 16 year old kid, which in itself is saying something, since half the world wants to fall at his feet and weep. So whatever. The only time I really ever remember he exists is when something reminds me. A song on the radio, a commercial...a scandal...

This week, Rolling Stone (desperately trying to stay edgy and relevant) published an interview with the Biebs, in which they asked him all about his opinions on health care, abortion and gays. Because, you know, every 16 year old has great, informed opinions on those things. And then all hell broke loose.

Nonsense I've read about Justin Bieber's opinion on abortion this week includes:
"I'm boycotting Justin now. I just can't like someone who is so anti-choice."
"Justin Bieber has set back reproductive rights."
"Justin Bieber shouldn't even get an opinion on abortion!"
"Justin Bieber is oppressing women!'

Ok, first of all, let's talk about what Justin actually said. I have the magazine right here in my hot little hands (I got a free subscription, don't hate) and he says, "I really don't believe in abortion. I think [an embryo] is a human. It's like killing a baby." When asked about rape, he says, "Um. Well, I think that's just really sad, but everything happens for a reason. I don't know how that would be a reason. I guess I haven't been in that position, so I wouldn't be able to judge that."

Alright, hysterical folks. Let's talk about this for a second. Justin Bieber is allowed to have an opinion, even on abortion, even though he's young and probably quasi dumb as all 16 year olds are. And this isn't a horrifyingly anti-choice opinion. Yes, he doesn't like it, but who cares? He also seems to sort of see some grey area, which is a lot more than most adults I know. And he's very Christian, which doesn't always go hand in hand with pro-choiceness. For a Christian kid, his ideas are actually fairly liberal.

Why does it even matter, anyways? He's not a politician. He's a fucking pop star. When the Biebs gets on the Supreme Court, I'll worry that he's a little more conservative in his views than me. Until then, whatev. I'm actually more horrified that he thinks the moon landing might be a hoax than that he's not all for abortion.

And on to more quasi celebrity news.

Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann are pissing me clean the fuck off. I don't give a shit how much they hate Obama. But let's stop acting like incredibly huge, overly privileged asshats. Women shouldn't be able to claim tax exemptions on pumps because it'll turn us into a nanny state? What. The. Fuck. And Palin, who has been all about how she nursed in the past is suddenly like a breastfeeding opponent because Obama is for it. FFS, are we 10, ladies? The Obamas don' t have cooties, and I didn't see anyone bitching about Laura Bush campaigning for literacy. Let's just stop acting like insane douchebags and focus on real issues instead of quibbling over breastfeeding. And, Republicans - please stop giving these hysterical bitches the right to make all of you look like morons. Find some intelligent women to represent you and distance yourself from these fools.

In totally unrelated news, I am a busy mofo. Work, full time school, a sick kid and a breastfeeding campaign launch...I've got a LOT going on. Thank god, Shane is being a champion and helping SO much this week. I couldn't do it without him. I am very lucky to have him and I can't wait to marry him.

A Call for Sanity In Activism

2011-01-05T08:20:00.003-06:00

As many of you know, yesterday came with an epic win - the return of The Leaky B@@b's Facebook page - and then an epic loss mere hours later. Not only was The Leaky B@@b page removed again, but so was the Bring Back the Leaky B@@b page. (Please note: if you are new to this story, go here for some background.)

Immediately, there was the normal backlash against Facebook. And that was normal, and expected. We should keep in mind, though, that most likely, it was not a human being at Facebook who took the page down at 10pm. More likely, it was the automated system, tripped because of other people, for whatever reason, reporting The Leaky B@@b as offensive. Mark Zuckerberg is not sitting in an office cackling and deleting breastfeeding pages because he has nothing better to do with his time.

Does that make things right? Absolutely not. And, as Jessica Martin-Weber, creator of The Leaky B@@b, has pointed out, it is indicative of a larger problem - Facebook's "delete until proven innocent" stance and the inability to be exempted if you are operating a page that has certain terminology but nothing of a sexual nature on it. (For more, please read Jessica's press statement.)

Since this is what's going on, clearly we should be doing things to ensure that Facebook changes that, right? ...Right????

Except that's not what's happening.

Overnight, angry lactivists have started seeking out and reporting other groups "because they're more offensive than breastfeeding!!!" (I want to make it VERY CLEAR HERE that Jessica Martin-Weber has NOT called for this to occur. This action is not sanctioned by anyone involved with creating or maintaining the Leaky B@@b or its online community. They should not be held responsible for these actions.) I won't list the fanpages that were reported here, but I will say that while they were raunchy in some cases, they were generally not containing nudity and were usually just silly, immature things that people had "liked." Many of them contained women in bras or bikinis. There was even a call - again, NOT from Jessica - for everyone to report Playboy at the same time so THAT page would be crashed.

This is bullshit, guys, and it's got to stop.

First of all, we all find different things to be offensive. I'm offended by Pajama Jeans and Cami Secrets, but you have the right to wear them. No two people reading this blog can probably agree on what is and is not offensive right now. And, guess what? It doesn't matter what I find offensive. I am a grown woman, and I can choose to not look at things that offend me. As long as something doesn't involve the abuse of someone else and it is involving people who are over 18, I don't really get to sit on my high horse and cast judgment on the masses. Sorry, but it's true.

Secondly, breasts have a dual function. I talked about this in my last blog post, but I'm gonna talk about it again. I have pictures on my profile at Facebook of me nursing my kid - and I have pictures of me with epic cleavage in the Victoria's Secret Miraculous bra. Neither one, to me, is offensive. I'm an adult, I posted those pictures, they convey different messages, yet they are both acceptable. A friend of mine has a burlesque company and posts pictures of her ladies and herself clad in their awesomely hot costumes. Another friend is a photographer and sometimes takes risque pictures. And yet another photographer friend has wrapped maternity pictures. I see nothing wrong with any of those things, but some of you may find them offensive. And that's whatever. Again, your right to have those opinions, and your right to not look.

The Facebook policy of deleting until proven innocent started as a way for people to get pages investigated that seriously did have adult content. Or abusive things. Or child porn. It has, because people are douchebags, morphed into "If I find it offensive, NO ONE ELSE HAS THE RIGHT TO SEE IT!" And that sucks. You don't actually get to sanitize the world around you to your specifications, folks.

And, finally, allow me to point out that if you're reporting pages and encouraging others to, and they aren't actually against Facebook's standards, you are just as much of an asshole as the people reporting The Leaky B@@b. Yup, pot, you're black. Just because breastfeeding is morally loftier to you than ogling boobs doesn't make you right. You're still a douche. The end.

Now, after that bit of tough love, here's how you can actually help the Leaky B@@b - no reporting involved!

Send an e-mail or call a local TV station or newspaper. Tell them about what's going on. Ask them to pick up the story. Provide links to The Leaky B@@b and the press release.

Join Jessica's new page, Join TLB in support of Women's Health and the new Bring Back the Leaky Boob...again page (run by my friend Atina, who is a rockstar.)

Tweet, share, blog about them, about the situation.

Contact Mark Zuckerberg on his page.

Write to internet media sources and encourage them to run with the story.

Petition pro-bfing celebrities like Jenna Elfman, Kourtney Kardashian, Helena Bonham Carter, and Christina Aguleria to make a statement.

Call Facebook and urge them to reinstate the page and also to rethink their policy of instantly removing reported pages. 650-543-4800

I also asked Jessica to send me any ideas she has, so if and when she does, I shall post them here.

A Love Letter to My Closest Ladies

2011-01-03T07:45:00.003-06:00

Dear Boobs,

Thank you for being so cool in so many ways.

When I was younger, I so wanted to have a set of you, and I didn't even really know why. You were just so intriguing. You took your sweet time bothering to show up, but you eventually came.

Throughout the years, I dressed you in leopard prints and lace and sometimes boring beige. We went through a lot together, and I always maintained that you were pretty freaking awesome. In fact, you've even been my nickname before - proof positive that you ladies have way more fame than I do.

When my first child was born, you were a source of amazement and anguish. You did your job for 14 months, and then went back to the high life, clad in Victoria's Secret and being totally sexy.

Now, you're a working set again, and you spend a lot of time nourishing a baby. But you don't complain, and you do such a fantastic job. From seven pounds to seventeen, that was all you, ladies. You are miraculous like that.

But I still see you as sexy, too, when you don't have a baby latched to you. You're still rockstars, and you still get second looks.

Love, me

...And in a segue...

that's the issue I sometimes have with breastfeeding advocacy. "Boobs are for babies! Stop sexualizing breasts, America!!!!!"

Well...

Breasts are baby feeding tools AND sexual devices. They are. I can be a hot sexy lady and a nursing mom. Women aren't confined to one particular role - neither are our body parts. The dual function of breasts doesn't mean I should have to cover up, or that people should be offended. It means that damn, boobs are awesome. Fun for the whole family! Lol.

So today, this is my big giant YAY to boobs. Whether they're small boobs or big boobs, nursing boobs or cleavage-y boobs, boobs in a turtleneck or boobs in a string bikini - boobs are great. We should recognize that they can have duality and appreciate everything they are and can be. Don't try to box the ladies in. Embrace them for everything they are.

Hey, hey, ho ho...Why Facebook (might) have to go...

2011-01-02T09:17:00.004-06:00

I was all set to finish up this great blog I've been tweaking here and there on breastfeeding myths this morning. And then I decided to check Facebook from my phone this morning. And my morning instantly became a little more irritable.

Some last night, you see, Facebook removed the fan page for The Leaky B@@b.

The Leaky B@@b is a support site for breastfeeding mothers. They can get on there, commiserate, ask questions, et cetera. There are forums for The Leaky B@@b, but most people honestly used the fan page instead. It was close, no need to log into another site. And it was a community. And a generally respectful one where people encouraged you and didn't judge you (mostly) if you needed to supplement with formula or if you were getting ready to quit because you just couldn't do it for whatever reason. Sure, the ladies there would try to talk you down...but ultimately, if that was what you had to do, they wouldn't blackball you and taunt you or tell you how if you were them, you would totally have succeeded because of blah blah blah.

First of all, you have no idea how rare that is in a parenting community. Usually, oneupmanship there is a blood sport (as my friend Summer wonderfully put it.) Secondly, breastfeeding support is a HUGE hurdle for breastfeeding moms. Most don't have it, or don't have enough of it. The numerous studies showing a need for breastfeeding support is literally why I have a job.

Facebook, however, seems to loathe breastfeeding. Because they blindly delete breastfeeding pages/photos/etc ALL. THE. TIME. The Leaky B@@b is the latest in a looooong list of casualties. Facebook's official stance is that, hey, they love breastfeeding, you just can't show nipple. Except that they regularly remove breastfeeding pictures, even when they DON'T show anything. If you call them on it, they may or may not bother reinstating them. It really depends on their whims. Yet pictures from S&M scenes can be easily found on Facebook - half-naked underaged teens can be found on Facebook - you can find pro-ana, pro-mia, holocaust denial groups, and, every once in awhile, pro-pedophile groups. This is all totes fine to Facebook. But breastfeeding? Well, not so much.

So here's where I stand. I am a passionate breastfeeding supporter. This is the work I do, and what I plan to continue doing. I am a peer counselor, and, as of October, should be an IBCLC. I boycott Nestle, and a large part of the reason is the horrible practices that have that put the smackdown on breastfeeding. Yet here I sit, on Facebook, while calling myself a breastfeeding activist and supporter, while they tear down seemingly everything aimed at helping women to do something that WHO, the AAP, the White House and the Surgeon General all agree that more of us really, really need to do for a plethora of seriously important reasons. And so I sort of feel like I'm eating a Crunch bar while telling a woman in a third world country that Nestle is awful and their formula will hurt her baby. I feel like a huge, hypocritical jerk.

If Facebook quickly reinstates TLB, I'll probably stay on. But even then, I will be awaiting the social networking site that does to Facebook what it did to MySpace. Eagerly. And hopefully they won't be such douches.

For those of you interested in helping get The Leaky B@@b back on Facebook, you can join this page and you can let Facebook know how ridiculous they are being through Mark Zuckerberg's page. You can write in to appeals@facebook.com and tell them how you feel, too! PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU DECIDE TO TAKE ACTION, DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES BE A JERK IN YOUR COMMUNICATIONS! Everyone who has had an account reinstated says that you get a MUCH better response by being polite and factual.

My kids are perfect and yours suck

2010-12-28T21:11:00.002-06:00

There's a dirty little secret of the mommy world. It's not secret if you're a mom. But others seem to be blissfully oblivious.

Step a little closer, though, and I'll share. Ready?

Moms are HUGE assholes. Competitive, horrible bitches that will make you want to kill them and/or yourself on a daily basis.

Oh, of course, not all moms are this way. But there are an awful lot of them. And be prepared, because they will do everything possible to make you feel like shit. And they are everywhere.

Example: I read this comment today on a post about scheduling c-sections or inductions for tax purposes. Do I think this is a good idea by any means? No. For a plethora of reasons I won't even start to get into. But here's what Anonymous Internet Bitch Mom thought -

"Well, women in developed countries are so uneducated about their bodies and birth anyway, what do you expect from a country with such a high c-section rate. I have never known of anyone who had a c-section for any reason that wasn't selfish or stupid."

And then there are the comments on breastfeeding posts. Here are two lovely examples:

"It's disgusting to breastfeed in public. These women are just attention whores. That's what bottles are for. I would proudly tell off a woman nursing in public, I have kids, they don't need to see PORN when we go out."

"Breastfeeding is a BIRTHRIGHT. I struggled for months to nurse. Every baby is entitled to breastmilk, and every mom should have to provide it. If your job doesn't accommodate breastfeeding, maybe it's time to find a new job."

Or the great circ debate:

"If you don't circ your boy, when he goes to high school and gets laughed at and has lasting psychological issues, it'll be all your fault for not doing what you were supposed to to his penis. Uncirc'd penises are gross and they are smelly."

"If you circ your boy, you have participated in genital mutilation. You should be arrested."

And don't even get me started on vaccines, diapering, or - GASP - occasionally eating fast food. You might as well just kill your child now and save them the slow death they will face from chemicals/obesity/autism/cancer/toppled over Happy Meal toys. It's the humane thing to do.

FFS, THIS SHIT HAS GOT TO STOP.

Look, I get it. Raising your child is one of the most important things you do in life. And you have such a brief window to turn them into a decent, caring, humane person. There's this wonderful being in your care and it's your job. It's all you. What if you fuck up? How tragic will that be? No one wants to be the mom of the serial killer or the drunkard or the asshole. We all want to raise cheerful, healthy, functional members of society. Ones that hopefully never have plaque and learn from the mistakes we once made.

But we can't save them from everything.

True story: your kid will have a broken heart. They will have times where they are mean, or selfish, or screw up epically. They will refuse to learn from your mistakes. They will believe they are impervious to danger or injury. They will stop thinking that you are the wonderfully perfect person with all the answers who can solve every problem that they have. They will likely be a sullen moody teen eventually. There's not a damn thing you can do to stop it.

But what we can stop is making every other mother out there feel like shit if they do something differently than we do. We can keep our judgments - because, yeah, we'll still have them; we're not perfect - to ourselves. We can stop assuming that everyone who does anything differently than us is uneducated and abusive. In fact, we can start caring more about preventing true abuse rather than shoving our choices down everyone else's throat as smugly as possible. When we do feel the need to educate, we can do it gently, knowing that once, this was probably foreign to us, too.

We can be nicer, better, more supportive people. We can do it in part for our kids. Because no one wants their child to grow up to be the competitive dickhead parent that everyone else loathes. But if that's what the learn from you, that's what they will become. That or a nun, after deciding to rebel as much as possible. One of those.

And at the end of the day, your love and support and time will be important to your child. Not how you birthed them, or how you fed them in the first few years, or whether they were in cloth diapers or if they occasionally had a HFCS laden soda.

And if your kid turns out less screwed up than the really trashy one from Teen Mom or any of the cast members of the Jersey Shore, you have succeeded. ;P

Stranger Danger

2010-12-21T13:17:00.002-06:00

My oldest is an extremely friendly kid.

She will be out in public and happily start discussing almost anything with anyone. She'll yell out from inside the cart to random people - asking them their name, telling them hers, telling them mine.

On Saturday, we were at WalMart (otherwise known as the holiday epicenter of hell) and she selected this sandwich lunch pack thing with a sandwich, cheese stick, apple, juice, and animal crackers. And she was sooooooooo proud of it. So proud that she felt the need to show EVERYONE that came within 5 feet of our cart.

Example:
We pass by a middle aged lady.
Rhi: "Hi! I'm Rhiannon. What's your name?"
Lady: looks at her like she's lost her mind, turns and walks quickly in the opposite direction
Rhi: "Wait! You didn't see my lunch!" holds up box and waves it.

Shane LOATHES this. I caught him lecturing her about it. "Stop showing people that! You're not supposed to talk to strangers!!!!"

I hate that shit.

I talked to strangers as a kid. I remember being just as friendly as Rhi. I remember not really being concerned with things like kidnapping or pedophiles or drug dealers. Somehow, I managed to get to a whopping 28 years old without being axe murdered and raped after I ran off with a stranger.

I know that sounds flippant, and, trust me, I don't mean for it to be. Yes, kids get kidnapped. Yes, they get molested. Yes, it's tragic. Yes, I, like every other parent, worry about it happening to my kids.

But I see a big difference in the boundaries I try to instill. Call me a bad parent, I don't stop my kids from talking to people. Especially since my kid is three, and I'm right there, parenting her. Is someone going to snatch her from my cart and run off while I'm right next to her because she said hi? I guarantee you they will be beaten, possibly to death, with some frozen chicken if they try. Rhi knows damn well not to go off with a stranger. But I refuse to stop her from being nice. I refuse to instill the suspicion that all people are bad and that she should trust no one. I'd love for her to be at least 5 before she's that jaded.

I also think about it this way. If, god forbid, my kid was lost, what are the chances that the nearest adult would be a pedo/kidnapper/murderer? Probably unlikely. So she'd probably be in more danger by wandering around alone, looking for me and refusing to get help from someone (who is likely completely benign.) I want her, if we're separated at WalMart or something, to TELL someone.

Also, stranger danger discounts the fact that most children are harmed by people they know. My kid is more likely to be abused by somebody that I know right now than by some random person. Statistically, she's most likely to be kidnapped by her dad than a stranger (not that I think he would ever do so.)

I think it's sad that people turn away from my perky, cheerful child in the store. And I'm sure that part of it is the concern that somehow I'll take offense to them being friendly to my child. But I won't discourage her from being a happy, amiable soul.

The Morning After

2010-11-03T09:51:00.002-05:00

I'm ashamed of my country today. Yes, you, America. I'M ASHAMED OF YOU.

It's not, as you might believe given my left leanings, that the House went red last night. Whatever on that. Not my choice, but I'm not angry or ashamed of it.

No, I'm ashamed of HOW and WHY it went red.

Last night, political commentators were discussing how a LARGE MAJORITY of people, in exit polls, said that they pretty much voted straight Republican. One of the commentators summed it up by saying that, "In this election, the color of the jersey was more important than the name on the back of it."

Say WHAT?!?!?

America, it is NEVER ok to just decide to vote straight ticket. It's not. It's how we get awful people in the government. It's how we get people who are easily seduced by special interests. It's how we get elected officials who are total crazy people (I'm looking at you, Rand Paul.)

I won't even get started on Prop 19 or the judges ousted for voting for same sex marriage, except to say that we are worrying about all the wrong damn things if pot and gay marriage are our huge concerns here.

That all said, I am interested in seeing what happens with all the turnover. Put your money where your mouth is, Republicans and Democrats and WORK TOGETHER. Do SOMETHING.

Untitled

2010-10-01T20:54:00.003-05:00

Hi, I'm Star. And I could already be dying.

I wish that I could laugh now and say that I'm joking. I'm not.

My grandmother, on my mother's side, had a disease called Huntington's. You may or may not have heard of it. It's a degenerative brain disease. It usually starts out with involuntary movements and leads to dementia and ultimately death. There isn't a really decent treatment. There is no cure.

If your parent has it, you have a 50% chance of having it as well.

My grandmother had it. She died from it. My uncle currently has it. And my mom? Well, we don't know for sure. She seems ok. But who knows if she is or not? She tends to repeat stories - is that a degeneration of her brain, or just a normal "people who are getting older repeat shit a lot" thing? When she talks about insomnia, is it a sleep disorder like the ones commonly attributed to Huntington's? Or is it just because we've had some really stressful shit in our family this year?

So I'm currently in a Schrodinger's Cat situation. Until my mother is diagnosed or I'm tested, I both do and don't have Huntington's. And as I get older, this terrifies me.

You see, I watched my grandmother degenerate with Huntington's. She didn't recognize us. She was utterly unable to take care of herself. She couldn't dress herself, or go to the bathroom on her own. She would get into her adult diapers and smear fecal matter all over her room. She would randomly yell at us. She would call us names.

And we were young, my sister and me. And while looking back on it now, I realize how heartbreaking it was, and how scared and confused she probably was, my young self was bitter. Or embarrassed. Or one of 800,000 other negative emotions that shame me terribly now.

And I'm so scared.

Huntington's generally begins between 35-44. You have maybe 20 years after that. And most of those really aren't wonderful years. They're years where you lose your mind, lose your bodily functions.

Lose yourself.

I'm 28 years old. I'm almost 29. That gives me, if I am carrying this disease, a scant 6 years of having full hold of myself.

And it's not just losing myself that I worry about.

Remember how I told you how I felt about my grandmother? Yes, I'm ashamed of it now. Totally. However, those memories are so strong that I have a hard time remembering my grandmother any other way. Her as a demented, dying woman has colored everything about her in my mind.

If this happens to me - if I have this disease - is this how Shane and the kids will remember me? That is my worst fear. Being a burden to my family. I don't want Rhi, or Keira, or Shane to remember me as the crazy bitch who painted the walls with poop, or the woman who came in with her clothing inside out and only one fake boob in to their party. If I were to die, I would want them to remember the good things I did. But if I have Huntington's, is that even possible?

I'm sure right now you're all thinking, "Jeez, Star. Get tested. Then you're not unsure. And you can cope."

Here's the issue with that. Again, if I do have Huntington's, I will get demented and die. The end. There are no other paths in my choose your own adventure. So why find out? Why have that hanging, daily, over my head for what could be my last good decade?

Also, it's hard to get tested. Because Huntington's is a death sentence, you must go through psychological testing. It can be very lengthy. And expensive. Remember how I'm a broke college student/part time peer counselor?

And what the fuck difference will it make? If I get the test, and I'm positive, it's not like I'm Queen Latifah in the Last Holiday. I can't suddenly pack up everything and travel the world, see all the things I'll miss out on later. Can't go follow my dreams all crazily. Not like there's a Make a Wish foundation for low income moms.

And I don't trust myself. I don't trust myself to take knowledge of impending death and use it wisely. I'm worried that I'd use it to justify selfishness. Or that I'd wallow in self pity. If I'm gonna go nuts and die, I don't want that to happen. I don't want to be that person. But I can't say for sure that I wouldn't succumb to that. :/

Why I'm (apparently) not a lactivist

2010-09-27T10:23:00.002-05:00

Today, I was on one of my favorite breastfeeding support Facebook pages. The moderator of the page posted a link to this article. I read it, and agreed wholeheartedly.

Then I read a comment that basically said that you can't be ok with any kind of formula feeding and still be a breastfeeding advocate or lactivist.

Most of you know by now that I work as a peer counselor. And I advocate breastfeeding every single day. I think breastfeeding is normal, and should be encouraged. I think more companies should allow babies at work, so that breastfeeding continues longer. I proudly nurse in public. I'm all for extended breastfeeding. I want to make sure that every woman has the tools she needs to meet her breastfeeding goal. I want to stamp out every silly breastfeeding myth out there.

But there are exceptions.

I myself had to supplement with formula. Several times, with Miss Rhiannon. It sucked. I had been so sure that everything would work out well that I can remember standing in the formula aisle in tears, feeling so judged, like I was a terrible, terrible mother. I hated every second of supplementing. I worked so, so, so hard to get Rhi back to just breastmilk. But I did it. Know why? Because, in the end, formula feeding didn't make me a terrible mom. But NOT feeding my child so that I could keep some silly ideal alive totally would have.

And before anyone scoffs at that, yes, that *has* happened. I remember reading of a vegan family who were so against using any animal products (including breastmilk) that they used a homemade formula and killed their child by malnutrition. Killed their baby. The cause was so important to them that they allowed their child to DIE for it.

I see moms daily that want to breastfeed. And most of them do. But some of them don't wind up being able to. Sometimes a well-intended bottle turns into horrible nipple confusion. Sometimes they're victims of a sexual trauma that makes breastfeeding a horrible experience for them. Sometimes they're simply low income and working at jobs that make it next to impossible for them to pump.

It reeks of over-privilege to say that all mothers need to breastfeed exclusively unless they literally cannot produce milk. Because, you know what? There are a multitude of factors that lead to women using formula. And not all of them are as cut and dried as some lactivists want us all to believe.

I am a proud breastfeeding advocate. I am pro-breastfeeding. I am a future lactation consultant. I am, and will remain, committed to helping moms breastfeed and normalizing breastfeeding. But if being a lactivist means shoving all moms into groups based on hasty generalizations, well, then, lactivists can suck it.

9/11 Nine Years Later

2010-09-11T11:27:00.002-05:00

I remember the horror of that day. I woke up like any other, decided to be irresponsible and skip my first class to get some extra sleep. Pushed myself out of bed, took a shower. Turned on the news. A generic anchorman was talking about a plane having hit the World Trade Center. It was speculated that it might have been an accident at that point - faulty navigational equipment or something. But even as he was saying this, another plane streaked in from the side of the screen and smashed into the second tower.

It was immediately apparent that this was no accident.

I remember calling my father - he travels a lot for business and I was a typical 19 year old, paying next to no attention to what this schedule was. So, for a moment, I was terrified that one of those planes could have contained my dad.

He wasn't, thankfully. But not everyone was as lucky as me. So many people lost fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, cousins, lovers, friends, grandparents...people they loved...that day.

The worst part of it was that these people were innocent. They weren't military personnel. They weren't people who were in the business of putting themselves in a dangerous position, knowing that there's a possibility of injury to them. Nope, these were just normal people, going on their daily routines.

I didn't go to class that day. Instead, I watched TV. I watched as stories unfolded. I watched as shell shocked New Yorkers wandered around covered in ash, as people jumped or fell from buildings. I watched the buildings topple. I watched people die, which was a pretty terrible thing. I felt powerless, and sad, and frightened, and afraid.

But I watched something else, too.

I saw stories unfold of average people working together to help others. Firefighters and police and aid workers putting themselves in peril to help rescue those that could be rescued. Citizens pitching in, even though there were many, many inherent dangers. I heard about another plane, which had crashed far from the location it was supposed to impact and heard the moving, heroic story of the passengers who stood up to the terrorists. Their heroic actions ensured their deaths, but also kept the death toll from rising further.

People all over the country did what they could. They sent money, they gave blood, they did everything they could to personally help out with the tragedy. Maybe they couldn't be in New York, but they took the steps they could to help.

I remember being so proud to be an American that day. I was so impressed by how people were working together, in spite of differences, to help their fellow countrymen. United We Stood.

But it's nine years later, and we are divided again. We have let our differences define us, without letting our similarities bind us. We not only define ourselves, seeming almost proud to break away into small, neatly labeled groups - we do it to others, too. Bleeding heart liberals. Muslim terrorists. Crazy Tea Partiers. Blacks. Whites. Young. Old. Republican. Democrat. For the mosque. Against it.

We will always, as a country, have differences. No one will ever agree over everything.

But nine years ago, we all pushed our differences aside to show everyone what we could do as a country. We showed everyone that we had a backbone of steel, and that, when it came down to it, we were a country united. A country that would help and love their fellow citizens, no matter what labels they had.

We need to find that again. We need to find our ability to compromise and agree again, our ability to work together. Because when it comes down to it, we're Americans. The other categories don't matter when we all want the country to succeed. When we look first at our similarities, our differences are less important.

To those who lost their lives and loved ones in 9/11, we have not forgotten. We will never forget. To those who are still here, I leave you with this quote:

"I know that there is strength in the differences between us. And I know there is comfort where we overlap." -Ani DiFranco

Let's find the strength and comfort in the country again.

Hey, everyone

2010-09-07T20:43:00.003-05:00

So there's this place called bumbleweenursing.com, and they have AMAZING nursing clothes. Seriously, they're gorgeous. And today the contest is for a nursing top, and I need new shirts, as my boobs have eclipsed the ones I currently own. But I'm also poor. Soooo...here's the link to the giveaway. If you enter, please put that you were referred by me (the e-mail is star.rodblog@gmail.com) Then I get 10 free entries, woot! Thanks, folks. :)

UPDATE

It's a new thing every day, so I'm going to post each day's one here! This is the next one, here. 9/8/10

The WBC

2010-08-31T07:06:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, when I hear the outrage over the WBC protesting at funerals of soldiers, it makes me a little sick.

It's not that I think the WBC is in any way a decent organization - I think they're proprietors of hatred - and it's not that it doesn't completely sicken me that they protest at military funerals. It does. They're probably the biggest douchebags on the planet for what they do. I can't imagine, as a parent, how ridiculously upset I would be at someone protesting my child's funeral. I can imagine launching myself at the nearest WBC member and trying, in grief fueled rage to take them down.

I begrudgingly give them that they have the Constitutionally protected right to be such asshats, but, really, I wish they would just stop.

However.

The Westboro Baptist Church has been picketing funerals since something like 1995. It's hard to find an exact start date, because, quite frankly, prior to them picketing military funerals, very few people gave a damn.

What? Why wouldn't people care that an extremist group picketed funerals and said horrible things and disturbed the mourners?

Because they started out picketing funerals of gay people. Or people who had died of AIDS. And we, as a country, turned a big old blind eye to it, for the most part.

Even in 1998, when they protested the funeral of murdered 21 year old Matthew Shepard (whose gruesome story can be found here if you're not aware of it) and drew national attention, there wasn't the huge attention paid to them that there is now. Hells Angels certainly didn't go to the funeral to counter protest, although some of Shepard's friends did. The WBC even had plans to build a monument to Shepard entering hell. And put it in a park. Nice, right?

And there were several other funerals they picketed, of dead gay men and women, many who had been murdered, that went pretty much below the radar. You know, until roughly 2006, when they protested a military funeral and all hell broke loose. The Respect for Fallen Heroes Act was signed that year, counter protests sprouted up in droves, people suddenly gave a shit.

People should have given a shit before, too.

Phelps got almost as much media coverage after the Shepard protest - where the fuck were the caring people of America then? Why weren't we stepping in then to make sure that bereaved family members weren't suffering from the picketing these asshats were doing? Because these people weren't soldiers, they weren't worthy of respect?

Screw that.

Look, I hold in high esteem fallen soldiers. I recognize what they do for this country, and I have a lot of respect for the job. And the Westboro Baptist Church should be drowned out at these funerals. There should be legislation keeping them a few hundred feet back, in respect for the mourners.

But that should apply to *all* funerals. Not just military ones.

A funeral isn't for the dead. The dead are just that. They don't care what their funeral is like. It's for the people left behind. For them to lay the person they loved to rest, to have some closure, to grieve. And that should be respected. Across the board. Military families don't grieve more than the families of anyone else who dies and leaves loved ones behind. Pain isn't less intense for a family even if the circumstances of the death were less tragic. Death is still death, and it still brings heartbreak to the living.

So, yes, counter protest the WBC. Sign legislation protecting the mourners. Give support to the parents and family and friends. Let them know that the WBC is a small, small minority of people gladdened by their loss, but that most Americans are sane, and rational, and can empathize with their pain. But do it across the board, not just for military families. Do it for everyone that this awful group wants to protest.

"I'm afraid of Americans"

2010-08-20T17:37:00.004-05:00

Not all of them, of course. But there's an element, a group that terrifies me here.

They're all over the media lately. They talk and talk and talk and talk. They spew misinformation at best, blatant lies at worst. They infect the brains of even the most rational people I know. The only thing they bring to the table is hatred, and I'm quite concerned that some of their more extreme followers will resort to violent actions.

And I don't mean Muslims.

I could write an impassioned blog detailing all of the misinformation about the "Ground Zero Mosque" (a misnomer if I ever heard one.)

But it wouldn't matter.

People masquerading as concerned Americans, wolves in patriots clothing, have spread so many lies so far and so wide that most of the people who really, really need to hear the truth wouldn't listen. They can't handle the truth, to be cliched. They can't handle it because they've been whipped into a frenzy of anger, hatred, emotion.

A frenzy of lies.

I worry for America, I really do. I love this country. I think I was very very lucky to be born here.

But we are on the cusp of something very very bad.

People are more and more and more angry. And all too often, that anger is misdirected, stoked by misinformation. We let politics separate us. Worst, they're not even our true politics. They're what two groups blow up and distort in a bid to get our vote.

Granted, that's not new. People have disagreed with politicians as long as there as been government. And misinformation has been spread for just as long.

But this is 2010, people. If you can read this, you have access to a wealth of information from many, many different sources. You can fact check. You can educate yourself.

There is no reason that in the age of the internet, that anyone rational should still believe that Obama wasn't born here, or that Bush plotted 9/11, or that the "mosque" is Islam's way of flipping us off.

But we're lazy in this country. Physically and intellectually. We like our food fast, our news pre-slanted, our enemies painted with bright red by whatever pundit we're listening to that day.

This has got to stop. If we don't start caring, if we don't stop being lazy, if we don't educate ourselves and at least try to find a common ground...

Right now, the US is chaos theory personified. And we're either going to move to a higher order or disintegrate.

I encourage everyone to look into the Coffee Party which is all about people coming together, being civil, and being united instead of divided despite differences.

But don't take my word for it. Seriously. Don't. Educate yourself. Check your facts.

(And please god stop saying that Barack Hussein (always emphasized, of course)Obama is a non-American Muslim. Honestly. It's not third grade, stop allowing a fucked up game of telephone to control what you think.)

Perspectives: When "Natural" =/= "Easy"

2010-08-05T18:42:00.000-05:00

I'm honored to be a part of the Breastfeeding Blog Carnival hosted by The Leaky B@@b. It's World Breastfeeding Week and the carnival theme is "Perspectives: Breastfeeding from Every Angle." Visit The Leaky B@@b for more perspectives on breastfeeding.

Hi, my name is Star, and I used to think breastfeeding was disgusting.

I like to think of myself as a breastfeeding success story.

My mom nursed me, but, obviously, I don't remember that far back. Growing up, no one ever nursed around me. The few babies I saw were fed by bottle. I thought that that was just, you know, how it was done.

When I was sixteen, my sister had her first baby. I went to the hospital to see my new nephew, and there he was – attached to her breast?!? Ewwwwwww, sister boob! My teenage self was so horrified. I spent the visit doing everything I could to not look at her while she nursed.

Fast forward seven years.

I'm married now, and, after trying for a veryveryveryvery long time, expecting. I'm so enamored by my tiny little ultrasound pictures, and the small bump I'm pretending I already have. I'm buying up all sorts of baby stuff and maternity clothes, and I'm loving every second of this experience so much.

I'm really concerned about her car seat. I want to get a really good one. While researching that, I find, inexplicably, a bunch of stuff about breastfeeding. The more I read, the more it intrigues me. The health benefits for my baby and me, the amazing components of breastfeeding...I decide, right away, to give this a go. The websites all seem to talk about how natural and beautiful it is, and I'm so excited.

In my mind, “natural and beautiful” becomes “easy” and I'm shocked when, in the hospital, my baby won't latch on. After three consultations with the lactation consultant and a begrudgingly given nipple shield (that “you'll want to wean her off of as soon as you can, dear”) we're on our way. Yay! It's time for the natural, beautiful, EASY part!

Except it's day 4 and I have no milk. And my beautiful baby has dropped 12% of her body weight. And now the nurses are pushing formula. A lot.

So I tearfully feed her it. And she responds happily, and gains back some weight, and we can leave. When we get home, and my milk comes in, I will get back to breastfeeding, and all will be fantastic.

Day 5. At home. No milk. I cry to my husband that I'm somehow faulty, that this isn't right, and how the hell can I ever get milk when the baby's not nursing anymore? I dissolve into a flood of tears, while he looks on helplessly.

Day 6. MILK! OMG YES!

But...I'm horribly engorged, and she can't latch on, and I don't know what to do. So I go to her pediatrician, who is (luckily) very pro-breastfeeding. And he helps me out a little, and also refers me to a lactation consultant.

Except now the baby has nipple confusion. But slowly, steadily, we work through that. And the next few months pass in a beautiful blur.

At 5 months, we go in for a pediatrician appointment. And my daughter has fallen off the growth chart. Even the one for breastfed babies. Her doctor asks me questions about her eating, orders a couple of tests, and says he wants to see us in a month.

A month later, she's even further off the chart, and none of the tests showed anything wrong. So more tests are ordered. And then a five day stay in the hospital for us two, where she will be weighed before and after every nursing to see how much she's getting.

About an ounce – maybe two - on each side, as it turns out. My pediatrician orders a daily LC consultation in the hospital, and, until we can make what he is pretty sure is my supply issue better, he wants to supplement formula. She refuses a bottle, so we try sippies. This seems acceptable to her. But I can't help feeling like a big huge failure. Why is this so hard for me? I just want to nurse my child, damn it!

On top of all this, the reason we were admitted to the hospital is classified as failure to thrive. Fun fact: in my state, this means an automatic DFS case is opened on you. So, in the hospital, we get the first visit from DFS. I am lucky; this woman is the sweetest person ever. She asks a bunch of questions, I answer truthfully, and she makes notes. I'm very upset, so I'm stuttering and sounding ridiculous. Eventually, she leaves, promising to come back later. She doesn't, though. I find out after the fact that they questioned our parents as teachers person, the people at WIC, and someone from a state program for stay at home moms that I participated in, all of whom reported that I was, in fact, a decent mother. The case was dropped. Not that I knew that while I was utterly stressed in the hospital.

A month later, after eleven hundred pounds of Mother's Milk tea and fenugreek and pumping up a storm, I'm producing milk well again. Enough milk to cut out formula entirely. I feel more accomplished than if I'd won a gold medal. My daughter nurses until she's a little over a year, at which point she self weans.

My breastfeeding experience was fraught with all sorts of issues. It was hard work, and stressful, and one of the most time consuming things I've ever done in my life.

I have no regrets about it.

I'm not going to lie – parts of my experience were dreadful. But the benefits far outweighed the stress. My daughter and I not only got the health benefits of nursing, but the time we spent, and the act of nursing, bonded us so strongly. We still have a strong, I believe unseverable, bond. And some of my favorite memories involve us nursing – the delighted smiles at my breast, the nighttime feedings where we curled up together and took comfort in each other's presence, the ability to make everything better so easily for my daughter. The beauty of that experience – likely already forgotten by her – will be something I cherish forever.

I'm now nursing, and creating those memories, with my second. Even though this nursing experience has gone much smoother, I'm not worried about issues that might pop up. I know I can fight like a tiger to have this with my child, and I know how worth it it is. So I'm just enjoying the ride.

Who'd have known that someone who once found nursing disgusting would have such a turn around?

(And, on a side note, I've nursed both of my daughters in front of my younger brother. The first time around, he was 12. This time, he's 16. And he's never had an “OMG, gross, sister boobs!” moment. This gives me incredible hope that by openly nursing around him, I've helped create someone who will be respectful of lactating mothers everywhere.)

Just Be Happy With Who You Are

2010-08-04T14:16:00.002-05:00

I've heard that statement, or one like it, a billion times and you probably have too. But it never disturbed me until today.

I was trying to figure out what my BMI is right now (let's just say not good :/) and I happened upon some forum. The girl was 5'7" and 180lbs. She was asking how to know what size frame she had and how to know if she was within a decent weight limit.

Someone posted the information on frame sizes, and she identified herself as having a large frame. So someone posted this, "Well, you're like 15 pounds above the range for your height, but that's not that bad. You should just be happy with who you are."

So this girl is trying to lose weight and be healthier, is looking for the right range to do it in, and the only feedback she gets is that it's ok and just to be happy? Seriously?

Yes, 15 pounds isn't that much. Pfft, I *wish* I only had 15 pounds to lose (and might I add that large framed people suck - my frame is classified as small, even though I'm super tall, and it means a 10 pound difference to the BMI charts for me. Damn it.) But 15 pounds extra is still excess weight, and if someone is trying to lose it, you should ENCOURAGE them, not advocate that they ignore it! Jeez, this chick had previous posts and she was really looking for healthy weight loss ideas . It wasn't like she was anorexic or trying to binge and purge to lose weight!

I wonder, sometimes, if the "just be happy as you are" movement is causing lots of unintended trouble. If I was complacently happy, I wouldn't be going back to school, or trying to make my life (and my family's) healthier. Would I be happier? Maybe short term. But long term, I imagine it would cause more stress, lower quality of life, and less happiness.

I try to think of what to tell my girls. Because I *do* want them to have high self esteem and love who they are. But I also want them to strive, to always reach for improvement. To want to be the best that they can be.

Breaking Point

2010-08-01T10:09:00.000-05:00

I'm stressed out beyond belief.

We bought this new trailer almost a month ago. I was so excited when we found it - it's the perfect size, a better layout for watching the girls and getting stuff done, compatible with everything we have.

It's also not here yet.

Now, keep in mind, we bought this trailer so that we could quickly be in a nicer place. We *wanted* to build a home. This was a compromise to get us happily and safely through winter so we could take a longer time building our dream home next spring/summer.

The past three weeks, the mover (whom we've already paid most of the money to) has put us off. And put us off. And put us off. I've been trying to be very nice about this. But I'm sort of done being nice.

Today, I snapped at him a little (when he blew us off again) and told him that it needed to be done next week. After much hemming and hawing, he actually set a time up with me for next weekend, and he also said he's going to try to bring the trailer over here earlier than that so all he has to do is move the current one and pop the new one on this weekend. This is the first time he's been so forthcoming with details, or set up an actual time, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

What pisses me off, though, is that I had a bunch of stuff I could have done this weekend, but, instead, I stayed home and waited for this dude for no reason.

Also, as I may have mentioned 940000 other times, I HATE our current place. It sucks. We're cramped, mice get in regularly (although since my daughter's cat came here from my mom's house, that's actually diminished, even though he's outside) and I have no stove. I cook everything by toaster oven, crockpot, and electric griddle. You'd be shocked at how hard this can be.

And I'm tired. I'm just so tired of waiting.

Since we've been put off so many times, I find myself scared to do the things I have to do for us to move. Like pack. Because if I pack up our stuff, and he doesn't come, I have to unpack half of it for us to live. It's causing even more stress...the stress of being unprepared vs. the stress of undoing and redoing things, over and over and over and over.

So, basically, if I don't want to lose my mind, the new place has to be there this weekend. I think if it isn't, I'm not going to be able to contain my frustration. I think I will be bitchy, and yell, and I don't think it'll do any good whatsoever.

I'm not even sure why I'm writing this, except to vent.

Anyways, in happier news, look for my post in the Perspectives Blog Carnival to be posted this Friday. I'm SO excited. I've never participated in a blog carnival before! So watch for that. :)

2010-07-27T21:48:00.000-05:00

It's only Tuesday, but this has been the longest week ever.

Sunday, I came down with mastitis. For those of you unfamiliar (and how lucky you are) it's an infection. Of your boob.

And it makes you soooooo sick. I woke up Sunday evening shaking like a crackhead, demanding Shane turn down the ac, and took the hottest shower ever (I'm not convinced I turned the cold on at all, and am quite shocked that I don't have 3rd degree burns, honestly) which still felt like the Arctic.

People in igloos were shaking less than me, for serious.

And I looked awful. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror, and I seriously looked like I was on something. I was pale, with huge dark circles under my eyes. Also, since my fever induced delirium made me forget to actually wash my hair (instead, I conditioned it, twice) I had the stringiest mop of awful on my head ever.

Then I added to my "homeless woman on crack" look by layering no fewer than three shirts, two pairs of pants, and fuzzy socks...none of which matched, btw. And I don't mean like, pj mismatched. I mean, like, glaringly different colors and patterns combined to form something so WTF that even people of WalMart wouldn't have bought it as a serious fashion choice.

Of course, I felt like death, so I couldn't have cared less.

When I returned to bed, I moaned something incoherent at Shane which he (rightly) took as me begging him to hold onto me, so I could steal his body heat and stop shaking. During this, I also kept tearfully apologizing that I was inconveniencing him on his birthday (it was after midnight and thus his 34th birthday. But, really, who doesn't love to have sleep interrupted on their birthday to take care of their sick fiancee? It's the American dream.)

Oh, and I forgot to mention that my right breast was swollen to 2x the normal size and anytime anything touched it, I almost screamed.

Fun fact: it took my sickly self TWO HOURS to remember that ibuprofen existed and take some. Good times.

I woke up the next morning drenched in sweat (who knew dressing for the North Pole in 77 degree weather was a bad plan?) but better enough to go to my first day of work. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond her control, my trainer was almost a half hour late. So I sat in a chair, having no clue what to do, and waited.

The actual work part was pretty good, and I stayed unsick enough to handle it.

Then I went to the doctor.

First, I waited 45 minutes beyond my scheduled time for anyone to see me. By this time, I felt awful again, and had, of course, forgotten all pain medicine at home. Good times. Oh, and while I was in the waiting room, there was also a woman there who kept spitting chunks of godknowswhat into a plastic pink thing in her lap.

Ten minutes before we're ready to go in, Keira lets out a HUGE fart. Suddenly, I feel something wet on my thighs. What the...? I looked down, and sure enough, my child had pooped so much that it had outleaked her diaper and gotten ALL over me. When this happened, I was holding her on my lap, so this ended up creating, after clean up, a huge wet spot right on my crotch. Fabulous.

I finally procured antibiotics and went home, where I pretty much decided that I didn't give a damn about anything. When Shane came home, I took to my bed with Keira and let him fend for himself and Rhi. I'm sure this pleased him greatly, as it was, again, his birthday. No cake or ice cream or gifts here. :/

Today wasn't as bad - mostly just hot and I forgot my debit card at home and couldn't go to the store to get some stuff - but it still feels like the longest week ever. Probably partially because I still don't quite feel 100% yet (although so much better than yesterday.) And also partially because if I get sick, everything goes to hell around here. There was a mess of dirty dishes, Rhiannon had taken out every toy she owns and threw them all over...ugh.

Speaking of which, tonight I told Rhi to clean up her toys. She didn't want to; she'd start, then stop and do something else. I probably asked her 4 times or so, and Shane asked her a few times, too. So I told her that I was cleaning the kitchen and that when I was done, if she hadn't picked up her toys, I was going to throw them away. You know what that brat said? Oh so casually, she said, "Ok, Mommy, throw them out. I want you to." Are you kidding me? How am I even supposed to get through to this kid? It's making my nuts, because she's three. She helps me wash dishes and mop and stuff - because she thinks it's fun - she damn sure can pick up her toys. She just doesn't want to, and I can't figure out a way to get her to. I've tried making it a game, I've tried asking, I've yelled, I've thrown away toys. Nothing bothers her! Infuriating. If any of you has any suggestions, please...I'm lost here.

Ugh. I'd better get off the internet and do something productive, like shower and lay out clothes for tomorrow. Goodnight, blog readers.

OH! I switched up some stuff here, and you can click little adjectives about my blog at the bottom if you don't want to actually comment, or if you think I'm totally profound or something (yeah right) you can share it. I also posted my blogroll for you all to see, because I follow some awesome people. :)

Injustice

2010-07-21T22:12:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty disheartened today.

I read a story earlier about a couple. Both were blind. They had, a day after I had Keira, a lovely little girl. The mom got to "see" her baby emerge by feeling her crowning, and was so ecstatic to hear her newborn daughter's first whimpers and cries. The mom and dad were overjoyed by their new daughter, and the mom immediately tried to breastfeed her. In doing so, she accidentally covered her daughter's nostrils with part of her breast.

Now, as anyone who has larger breasts knows, this happens. You learn to adjust. It's part of mastering breastfeeding.

The nurse who saw it didn't think so, though.

Instead of helping the mom, she notated in her file that the "child was without proper custody, support, or care due to both parents being blind."

When their daughter was 2 years old, she was taken away from her parents and placed into foster care. The parents were only allowed to see their child 2-3 times a week under the supervision of a foster parent. For 57 days.

Imagine, if you will, having your newborn whisked away. Having your beautiful baby taken from you before you can have the time to bond with her. Not being able to smell her babyness, or kiss her, or tend to her cries. For 57 days. Because someone has deemed you unfit without any allegations of abuse or neglect or anything.

That, my readers, is criminal.

This happened in my state, the state of Missouri. The state in which I frequently see 2-3 year old children riding in the front seat of cars, not only not in carseats, but not in seatbelts. The state in which I - daily - see people leave their children unattended in cars - even now, in the summer, during excessive heat warnings - while they go into stores, gas stations, or what have you. For sometimes 10-15 minutes at a time. I have seen people hit their children with belts in public places and seen others cheering them on. I know someone whose children are with an abusive parent who regularly flouts the court dictated rules, whose children are terrified to be with them, but are still entrusted to their care.

Yet, the state never seems to intervene on those.

However, these two blind people? Their daughter was removed from my home. When Rhiannon wasn't gaining weight "properly," Mike and I were investigated. And there are a billion other cases like that - places where the state decides to step in unnecessarily.

It's fucked up.

I don't understand the way the system works. I just don't get it. It goes against the whole truth and justice thing that I've always believed in.

You can read the story of the state of Missouri's grievous error here. Thankfully, she is back together with her parents now, where she belongs. But I can't help but wonder how many more parents are suffering away from their children, or being looked at harshly, while the actual bad parents who could use the intervention, slip through the system.

Guess Who's Gainfully Employed?

2010-07-20T20:52:00.000-05:00

Shane is.

But, also, me! Hooray! I'm pretty super excited about it. I'm going to be helping moms with breastfeeding, which is something I feel very strongly about. I know that I could never have succeeded in nursing Rhiannon without all the amazing support that I had, so hopefully I'll be able to pay it forward on that.

I did not, however, get the pecan pie blizzard that I wanted. Because Shane FORGOT TO GET IT. Which makes him the worst fiance of the year in the Buying Ice Cream Olympics. Not even a bronze medal for you, Shane!

Now, you might be thinking, "But, Star...aren't you trying to lose weight?" Indeed I am. But everyone knows celebration ice cream doesn't actually contain calories. It's written in the tomes of history. Or I just made it up. But one of those for sure.

Also, I am getting p90x. So expect a blog entry saying I've broken something on my body about 2 days after that occurs. ;P Seriously, though, I will put my impressions of it on my other blog so if you are considering getting it, watch for that.

Well, that about wraps it up, mostly because I'm playing I Spy with Rhi and I keep looking for things on the screen on accident and/or wanting you to find the surfer's hair. Ahh, the joys of 3 year olds. :)

Happy

2010-07-12T17:17:00.000-05:00

I am not a materialistic chick.

I can happily live in small places, not have a lot of money, buy things at thrift stores and drive older cars. Doesn't phase me. I've always figured that *who* I am with is more important than *where* I am or *what* I have.

But this trailer has been all nine circles of my personal hell.

We have been inflicted with bugs of all kind, mice, leaking windows, rotting floors, busted pipes...it's been, quite frankly, awful.

All of that is coming to an end, though.

Thanks to our wonderful family giving us a loan, we are getting a much much much nicer, better trailer. We plan to use this one as storage and live in that one this winter and while we build a house next spring.

I am the most excited that I have ever been. Seriously, I'm excited about lame stuff like steam cleaning my rugs at the new place and stuff. It's insane.

Annnnd, we won't all be sharing a bedroom anymore! Yes, you read right - up until now, all four of us have been in one room. While Keira will still room in with us - even if we stop co-sleeping, it's just easier that way - Rhiannon will have her very own room. Which means her 8 million toys will have their own home, too, lol.

We have a final walkthrough of the new place tomorrow to make sure that everything is up to par. And if it is, hopefully, next week or so, we'll be in the new place. Squeeeee!

I want to thank not only the family, who have been freaking incredible, but also a few friends who have done so much to make us have a more comfortable experience here. Atina, Tara, and Jessica - thank you sooooo much. You guys are amazing. Jessica, even though my lazy ass fiance hasn't gotten that fan yet, you are incredible for offering it. One of these years, he'll remember, haha. And Atina - I swear, every time I've needed help with something, you've offered it up like we were family, and it means soooo much to me. Tara, you're the same way. You guys are so giving and wonderful, and when I have money again, I am taking you all out to dinner.

Anyways, fingers crossed tomorrow goes well, and one more YAY!!!!! for the road. :)

2010-07-09T20:21:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, people are douchebags.

I'm 28. You'd think that would have sunken in by now. Like, I'd be adequately jaded against this shit already. But somehow I forget it, over and over.

And then I get really depressed when I remember it.

Maybe it's me. Maybe I have too lofty of an idea of how people shouldn't fucking suck.

Rhiannon is on this kick lately where she keeps telling me to not let monsters get her. And she makes us check under the beds and stuff, and holds onto me. And it's 20% fear, 80% playacting. So I tell her every night how there are no monsters and blah blah blah.

But I'm a liar, because there *are* monsters. They don't have fangs or claws or anything. But they exist. And some day, she'll meet one.

Hopefully, it won't be the really, really awful kind - the abusers or the killers or the rapists or whatever. But there are others. There are people who lie and cheat and fuck up people's lives out of some stupid reason that is known only to them. There are people who pretend to be friends who sell you out because they somehow think that that's the fair thing to do. Because they are totally incapable of taking a goddamned stance on anything that doesn't involve their own life, even though they expect that stance from their friends. There are people who ignore injustices and people who perpetrate them and they surround us. Because some people are just douchebags.

I've always been one of those people who totally believes that bad people get theirs in the end and karma and so on. But lately it's been pretty hard to buy that, since no one seems to get comeuppances and the best people I know seem to get systematically screwed.

*sigh*

My optimism is at an all time low today. Maybe I should look up pictures of baby kittens or wonderful heartwarming crap to feel better. Or maybe I'll just take Keira to bed with me pretty soon and sleep it off. Perhaps pessimism is like drunkenness that way.

I wish I could write more and give more details to just get all this shit out and stop letting it weigh on me, but I can't even do that, as there could be real ramifications if I did and the wrong people happened upon my blog. Suck.

Bed it is then. And maybe the rest of that fair trade chocolate bar I've been saving. Mmmm hazelnut.

What a long strange trip it's been...

2010-07-07T11:26:00.000-05:00

I never thought I'd be a crunchy mom.

Hell, for a long time, I didn't think I'd be a mom at all. Growing up, kids never really figured into my plans. I kind of assumed maybe I'd get married or something, but kids were...meh.

And then my sister had kids. And they were cute and stuff. But I still didn't, you know, want any. Maybe if I was 30 or something. But when you had kids, you had to take care of crying, pooping babies and bratty two year olds. Really, there was little appeal. At least when I was the aunt, if they were bad, someone else got to deal with them. I could leave.

Then Mike and I got together. And suddenly, I wanted a baby. I have no idea why. It's not like there was some amazing moment where I held a baby and my heart exploded with longing. Hell, to this day, I don't like to hold other people's babies.

It took Mike and I a trillion years to conceive Rhi. When I found out I was pregnant, I was over the moon. I had all these plans. I was going to formula feed. I'd pop the kid in a daycare at 6 weeks, have a career, do it all. I planned baby rooms. I told my new ob I wanted an epidural, like, instantly - women who were drug free were fucking crazy.

I have this tendency, though, to research things, almost to the point of compulsion. Also, I was on maternity leave and I had the internet. It was better than soaps. So I started reading.

The first to fall was formula feeding. I read the benefits of breastfeeding, and I wanted to do that for my baby. I was blown away by how amazing the milk created by the human body was. And when I went out in public, I could totally pump beforehand, so I didn't have to publicly nurse.

When I felt Rhi move for the first time, I had this thought out of nowhere that I could never, ever, ever leave her at a daycare at 6 weeks. This tiny little thing in my stomach needed to stay with me. She needed me. And I needed to be with her. So I told Mike I wasn't going back to work right away after I had her. Luckily, he was supportive and did not think I had lost my mind.

Then I found some articles on something called HypnoBirth. To make this short, it's a drug-free birthing method. So I decided to try that. (I won't lie - part of my urge to try that came from an intense dislike of the idea of a catheter.)

Oh, and the bedroom? It was painted, decorated, ready. She never slept in it. Rhi's crib was right next to my bed. Right until the day we moved. Quite simply, I couldn't imagine her so far away.

Then, I got crunchier.

I nursed in public all the time, and still do. Pumps suck. Pumping is boring, and hard; bottles have to be washed and warmed; and I'm lazy. Much easier to pop out my boob than do Bottle Wars with a baby. And figuring out exactly how much a baby will want to eat at a certain time seemingly never worked for me.

At some point post Rhi's birth (where I distinctly remember saying, "If she comes out as a boy, we want her circumcised") and pre-Keira's conception, I decided that circumcision was pretty silly. There was no real point, it could be harmful...it was pretty much a cosmetic procedure. If I had a boy, and they wanted it done later, they could go for it. But since I couldn't undo getting it done, I decided it wasn't my decision to make.

And now...Keira is cloth diapered (usually,) she co-sleeps, I plan to make her baby food, we do a lot of babywearing (something I never quite got the hang of with Rhi.) I've also started buying more local and organic foods, we're going to build our green, dream home...

The me from my early twenties would be horrified, lol.

Stay at home mom

2010-07-02T12:49:00.000-05:00

I'm officially one. I resigned from my job today, which was kind of nerve-wracking.

I did apply for, and interview for, another job about a week ago. It is one where I'd get to bring Keira, though, for awhile and I won't know about it for a couple of weeks.

I'm nervous, because if I don't get this job, I've just pulled out the rug on me making any money for awhile.

However, I could never work at the preschool and go to college. It's just impossible. And with Shane's recent upgrade in jobs, no income from me is more workable than ever. And we've been doing on one income since May, so...

Still scary, though.

This new job would be perfect - I could even do it while doing school, so that would rock. I'm crossing my fingers times a million.

Romance and Motherhood

2010-06-30T22:21:00.000-05:00

I got spam today about "keeping the romance alive with a new baby!" It had stuff in it like, "Have a night out - just the two of you!" or "cook him a candlelit dinner!"

Are you fucking kidding me?

Listen, I have a seven week old (which the e-mail knew, since it was for "your baby's 7th week.") And a three year old. I'm not cooking a candlelit dinner unless the damn power goes out. And as for having a night out right now? Spam, I'm exclusively nursing a baby. Going out alone ain't in the cards right now.

There's too much importance on "rekindling the romance!!" after a baby. Let's be honest, first of all - who really wants candlelight and big nights out? It's not the guy, usually. It's the girl. If the guy wants to go out, it's not usually to, like, a showing of Eclipse and a dinner involving soulful gazes over wine. In fact, most guys are probably cool if you resume having sex and regularly shower. Bonus points if you occasionally dress in something other than sweatpants.

And why are we so freaked out about the standard definition of romance anyways? Everything changes with kids. Romance does, too. I'd take Shane cleaning the kitchen because Keira's having a growth spurt and all I do is nurse her over a dozen roses. I'm not saying I never want the hearts and flowers crap again. But right now, I'm too tired for it.

I love Shane a ginormous amount still, but I'm cool with dates right now including our whole family. We're rock steady, and if we wanted our whole lives to be all about us, we wouldn't have had kids. And our children are the fleeting part of our life together. We'll have years when they've grown for long walks on the beach and all that jazz.

I'm not saying to ignore your significant other while you raise your kids, and you should certainly strive for alone time and work on making your love stay strong. But you're just delusional if you think the relationship of two people can ever be the same with kids added. One of the real challenges of relationships is keeping your love strong through all different aspects of life, and saying a candlelit dinner will do that is naive at best. Being realistic about things is much more sensible and leads to way less disappointment.

Grrrr

2010-06-30T09:20:00.000-05:00

I'm going to be whiny.

This house is driving me quietly insane. Not the new one we plan on building, the one we live in. If it's not one thing, it's another here. It's super cluttered, it's really hot (although I have a repreive from that this week, thank god,) I can't find anyone to brush hog it, so the grass is ridiculous - and because of that, we have ticks and chiggers out the wazoo, we have insane barn swallows dive bombing us, and now we suddenly have mice. It's not even the right season for mice!

Ugh.

We haven't started building the new house yet for two reasons. One, it's hard to lay a foundation when your grass is 12 feet tall (yes, a slight exaggeration) and two, money.

We had some earmarked for the house, but when Shane switched jobs, we had to use it for bills due to the change in how often he was paid making it almost a month until we had any cash rolling in. That sucks, especially when you weren't planning on it. On the other hand, we were hugely lucky to have that money to access.

The really irritating part is that, by my calculations, we need maybe a thousand bucks to do the outside of the house. Including the foundation. A grand is not a massive amount. And we don't even need it all at once - we need about $500 for the foundation and then $500 for the walls. And the inside? Once the outside's done, we can kind of nickle and dime that along.

I'm just worried about getting the outside done before winter. We can press it into fall if needed, but not winter. And I seriously can't handle winter in this place. It's just straining me way too much.

Sigh. I'll stop complaining now. We have a lot of good going on, too - Keira and Rhi are wonderful, Shane's new job seems to be going swimmingly, I interviewed for a job I would really love - so it's certainly not like the bad overshadows the good by any means. I just wish we had a mysterious benefactor to toss us a thousand bucks, lol. Or a way to get a loan for it until tax time (but nowhere will lend for this variety of construction.)

Oh well. We'll press on, and it'll fall into place, or we'll make a new plan, I suppose.

And we're very lucky, in comparison to a lot of others. I try hard not to take the blessings we have for granted.

Rant

2010-06-23T07:49:00.000-05:00

Stop saving me from myself, please.

The Center For Science in the Public Interest announced plans to sue McDonalds if they don't remove toys from their Happy Meals, saying that the toys give kids "pester power" and "foster unhealthy eating habits."

Well, screw you, CSPI. I don't actually want, or need, your parenting help.

First of all, I find the concept of "pester power" laughable. You don't want to be pestered? Well, you are in the wrong profession then. My kid pesters me over a trillion things daily. It's called "being a child." Get over it.

Or, here's a novel concept - turn off your damn TV so they don't know that Shrek's in the Happy Meals.

I find the part about McDonald's fostering poor nutritional habits with these toys to be utterly offensive, though.

It's not McDonald's job to teach my kids how to be healthy. It's their job to sell quickly prepared, nutritiously crap food that appeals to you on a level of "This tastes good and is pretty cheap." Yeah, it's fatty and salty and high calorie and junk food. So what? Fast food isn't healthy. Oh noes! *rolls eyes*

It's not McDonald's, or CSPI, or anyone else's job to teach your child good nutrition. It's yours. You're the parent, so act like one. Your kid wants a Happy Meal? Learn the word no. Use it. It's not that hard. Jeez, if I let my kid decide what to eat, I'd live on a diet of ice cream, chocolate, bubble gum, peanut butter, spaghetti, chicken soup and cantaloupe. That's why she doesn't plan the menus in this house.

I feel the same way about Spongebob mac and cheese or Dora Spaghetti-Os. Your kid may have pester power, but you have the cash. A child won't die of heartbreak if her noodles don't look like Squidward. TELL HER NO. Tell her Spongebob lives in a damn pineapple and buy one of those instead.

There was a great quote in the article I read from a man who voted against a toy ban previously. He said, "If you can't control a 3-year-old child for a toy, God save you when they get to be teenagers."

I totally agree.

If your kid is fat and eats awful foods all the time (barring a medical condition,) it's because you aren't using the word no enough. No, you can't have a Happy Meal. No, you've watched enough TV, go play.

When did we become such wusses that we can't deny our children anything ever?

Kids not always getting their way is good for them. Know why? Because life isn't all rainbows and butterflies and they won't always get their way in it.

And as far as nutrition goes, if you're giving in on eating crap foods all the time, maybe it's time to tell your inner child no, too. No one eats healthily all the time because pizza and ice cream suck. They do it because they know that the half hour of "yum" isn't worth the damage to your body.

But this is something you can handle, parents. You don't need CSPI holding your hand.

Besides, ban toys in Happy Meals, and, I assure you, someone somewhere will come up with something else to make unhealthy things appeal to kids. That's why parenting is important. So FFS, stop kowtowing to your kids and do some.

Mom x 2

2010-06-22T21:08:00.000-05:00

Having a second kid is balls hard.

No one said that, while I was pregnant. I got hearts and flowers stories of sisterhood, and siblings being best friends and crap like that.

Don't get me wrong - Rhi loveslovesloves Keira, and there are probably 5,000 adorable moments a day that make me go, "Awwww, sisters."

But it's still hard.

No one explained to me that housework is damn near impossible with a toddler and a newborn. And I have a wrap, so I get a little more done than I would otherwise. But ohmygod. Try to do dishes with one kid strapped to your chest while the other one is on a chair next to you demanding that you help her feed her fish and damn near falling off in her exuberance. It doesn't work well. And playing Shrek with your eldest while nursing your youngest is a real treat. Inevitably, someone gets pissed at me - either Keira, because her latch gets screwed up, or Rhi because "Mommy! You have to be Donkey AND Fiona! And make Fiona dance with me. Mommy! Mommy, you're not listening!"

Also, I don't have a "real" vacuum. I did, but somehow, in the move, it lost important parts, like the brush and the brush guard. We have a mini car vac that I use to vacuum. I haven't replaced this yet because I don't really want carpet in the new house, so it's a moot point. And vacuuming on your hands and knees with two kids is impossible. In fact, even with the wrap, by the time I have one thing half done, Keira usually wants to nurse or something, Rhi has tried to "help" (sweet, but usually more of a hindrance than anything else) and I have decided that if I ever win the lottery, the very first thing I'm getting is a damn maid and why don't houses just self clean anyways?

Also, I still can't get the hang of dividing attention very well. And Rhiannon's budding interest in all things gymnastics and sporty is really not conducive to keeping babies safe. So I find myself saying no a lot. "No, Rhi. We don't throw the ball around our sister. No, Rhi, we can't do headstands on the same couch cushion Mommy is changing Keira on."

Incidentally, I used to be one of those "I won't use the word no because redirecting is way more effective anyways" moms. Yeah, it might be, but you try redirecting a toddler before she falls atop her newborn sister while pretending to be Lady Gaga (who she has never seen a picture of, and for some reason involves the same costume as Prince Naveen from Princess and the Frog) while singing and dancing to Bad Romance (which, in Rhi's version, goes, "I want your love and I want your fence you and me could have a bromance.")

That all said, I love both my kids tremendously, and Keira has brought all sorts of extra love and light into our family. She's already a character, with a plethora of expressions (that usually express disdain or concern for your mental health, lol.) She smiles a lot, she can hold up her head on her own, she can sometimes roll over - she is the most determined baby I have ever seen. You can just tell she loathes being immobile and not having words yet.

And Rhi is, of course, amazing. She's so smart and so fun, and everything about her just shines. She's taken to sisterhood way better than I imagined she would, since, until now, she has ruled the roost and been the number one star in everyone's sky. Right now, she seems content to make a spot in her galaxy for Keira, though - although that may change when Keira starts, you know, stealing her thunder or getting into her stuff.

Dear Everyone

2010-06-20T23:20:00.000-05:00

Because some of you will be bored to tears if I constantly write this here, I started an offshoot of this blog called I'm Not Pregnant Anymore...Now I'm Just Fat. I intend to use it as a weight loss blog for these extra thirty pounds I'm hauling around. If you wanna read it, check it out and or follow it...if not, I'll still be writing normal crap here. Yay!

Ok, good night, all.

Let's hear it for the boys...

2010-06-20T08:37:00.000-05:00

Dads sometimes get a bad rap.

You mostly hear about them in the context of bad - the absentee father, the guy who won't pay child support, the man who beats his kids.

But that's largely not the truth.

There are certainly men out there who have fathered children, yet don't deserve to be called fathers. Just like there are moms out there who have been a vessel for a new life but shouldn't really be called a mother.

But most of the fathers I know, even if they, for various reasons, aren't in their child's day to day life, are wonderful people who love, care for, and teach their children. My own father saw me only on the weekends once my parents split up, yet I couldn't imagine a more loving, supportive dad. He's been one of my heroes for my whole life. Thank you, Dad. I love you so much.

I was also truly lucky to have a great stepfather, who put up with me like I was his own for years, even through the terrible teenage years when I'm certain every adult around me wanted to lock my black lipstick wearing, rebelling against nothing, emo, selfish ass in a closet somewhere until I snapped out of it.

And, as I'm always saying, fathers are important. Kids with involved fathers are more successful, have higher grades, have better self esteem, have less mental health issues, and a billion more things.

So, on Father's Day, I salute the dads out there. Not just my own, or the fathers of my beautiful children, but all the dads who:

change diapers
teach their kids how to swing
get up in the middle of the night with fussy babies
do all they can to be with their kids
teach right from wrong
provide for their children
play with their kids
sing with their kids
dance with their kids
show their kids what a man should be
fight for their children
worry about them
give goodnight kisses
check for monsters
drive to school/practice/playdates
let their little girls put makeup on them/play dress up with them
cook dinners

and otherwise contribute to making your children happy and healthy.

Thank you for being awesome.

And a special mention to stepfathers and grandfathers, who do all the same stuff, but sometimes get less recognition.

This wouldn't be complete without:

Shane, Happy Father's Day. Thank you for being a wonderful father to Keira, and an amazing stepfather to Rhi. You're fantastic, and we love you.

And, Mike, even though you don't even know I have a blog, thanks for being a great dad and co-parent, even though we're not together anymore. Happy Father's Day.

Finally...

Robby, I'm mentioning you here, because I don't know many other dads who are as loyal and dedicated to their kids. Happy Father's Day. Have a great one - you deserve it.

I'm not an addict

2010-06-18T12:38:00.000-05:00

But I was.

After Rhi, as many of you know, I lost a lot of weight on Weight Watchers. Well over 100 pounds. One of the many, many things I did to accomplish this was by swapping soda for tea. Tea that I sweetened with Splenda.

I used Splenda in a lot of other stuff, too.

But mostly tea. And if the place I was getting tea from didn't have Splenda, I swear, I shook like a crackhead from the lack of it.

I knew, smart person that I am, that maybe Splenda might not be the best thing ever. And I'd heard the studies about artificial sweeteners making you fatter, or causing health problems. But I didn't seem to have those issues, so I overlooked them.

Then, I got pregnant with Keira.

I don't do a lot of artificial crap while pregnant. I feel like I should not throw too many chemicals at a newly developing life, you know? So I cut the tea cold turkey. Which sucked, but in nine months, I could go back.

Well, I did go back - to the tea. I'm still not drinking gallons of the caffeinated kind, but I'm in love with tea, and not a huge water person. But I still haven't done any Splenda. I sweeten my tea still, but lightly, with regular sugar. I thought this would be an issue, but I've grown accustomed to less sweet beverages now. Which is good.

This is all part of my attempt to eat healthier foods and set a good example for the kids. Gotta admit, it's been circumvented slightly by trying to deal with an infant and toddler and keeping the house respectable - especially since Keira is a high maintenance baby for sure. But I found a huge cookbook of healthy crock pot stuff, so I'm going to start doing that. :) I really want my family to put good, nutritious things in their bodies. Including Shane, despite his hatred of anything not processed and heaping with MSG, saturated fat, and yellow dye #4. ;)

In other news...I'm going to resume running tonight. Which will probably be more like jogging, or power walking, since I haven't done anything in forever. Hopefully my guts won't fall out lol.

House Stuff

2010-05-30T18:20:00.000-05:00

So plans for the house are well under the way. I made up a list of what we'd need (based on The Cob Builder's Handbook) and posted it in a note on Facebook, asking for help/materials. We're pretty inherently broke, and a lot of the point of cob building is using green materials and reclaimed materials, so asking seemed like a good idea. We had several people offer to help with stuff/lend tools/give materials, including Mike's fiancee, who says that her uncle is always tracking stuff like that down for people. I feel really blessed to have such a wonderful group of friends who will help me with this. :)

I'm struggling with the dimensions in our plans, though. I'm honestly not really sure how big I want everything to be. Our plan is to build 3-4 rooms by the end of summer/fall - a kitchen, a bathroom, a living room, and a bedroom. Then, next spring, we'll add a hallway and attach to it 1-2 more bedrooms, an office for Shane, and maybe a 2nd bathroom. Since we won't have a dining room, our kitchen has to be largeish, I'd like a decent sized living room, and the bedroom and bath sizes are kind of in the air, too. I certainly want things bigger than we have here - we're so crowded here that it's insane. But I don't want to over-do it, either...we have a limited amount of time to complete this before bad weather comes, and, let's face it, it's not like Missouri always has the most cooperative of climates even in the right seasons. So I want to be reasonable, but comfortable. I'm not sure what size that would be, and we kind of need an idea of how large everything is so we can start clearing the ground and readying things for building. I tried looking at blueprints online, but the issue there is that building with cob is a lot more fluid and rounded than building with "normal" materials. So blueprints don't mesh correctly. :/ And, for some reason, most of the free blueprints don't have dimensions, anyways. Which I kind of thought was the point of blueprints. But whatever.

Luckily, with cob, you can build in lots of storage and even some furniture. So our rooms don't have to be massive to hold everything. For instance, I have a bajillion books, so we plan on making the future hallway have book shelves up and down the entire length. Shane's room will also be full of shelves so that his office space can be quasi-organized.

The more I think/talk about this, the more excited I get. Which is weird, because, originally, I was against the idea of building here. I don't want to stay in Missouri forever. Neither does Shane. I thought doing the mobile home thing might be a better idea. But the thought of constructing something exactly as we want it is so appealing. And, honestly, we'll have a larger, nicer space for close to the same amount that we would have spent on a larger trailer.

Anyways. So, my goal for this week is to get the plans finalized and start working on readying the ground for building. I also need to track down sand, clay, and straw - the three most important components in this endeavor. :) Wish me luck!

More random crap

2010-05-29T16:34:00.000-05:00

So, in my last blog, I mentioned that we were co-sleeping with Keira, half expecting a few people to warn me of the inherent dangers of it. Instead, a lot of people have told me that they, too, co-slept with their kids. Even people who aren't at all attachment parents or crunchy or anything like that seemed to have done it a few times.

We still are, too, and I can honestly say that I never thought I'd be feeling this good 9 days postpartum. I'm not sleep deprived and frustrated and unhappy. I sleep at night, so, during the day, I can actually do stuff. It's crazy awesome.

I also am in love with my (generic) Moby Wrap. It makes everything so much easier. We went to the store today, and I could actually accomplish stuff and hold Keira. Plus,people didn't get all up in her face like they did when she was in a carrier. Since she was on my chest, people kept a more respectable distance, which was lovely.

The only thing I'm having a hard time with is restrictions from this c-section. And that's mostly related to how much I loathe my body right now. I look at pictures of myself where I was so toned and thin and strong, and I hate that I'm not any of those things right now. I want to break out my weights and exercise DVDs and go for runs. And I can't. Which irks me to no end...I don't like not being able to do what I want to do. Also, nothing fits. I'm using a belly band to hold up maternity pants, and I refuse to buy new clothes when I am NOT staying this size.

I'm looking up a bunch of house stuff today. I want to get some concrete plans together so I can make a material list, see what I can get off of Freecycle and through friends and such (also, my ex seems to always know someone who is tearing something down or getting rid of materials or something, so I'm hoping he'll have some friends who have supplies, too. Which will be reason 9876579 that I'm thrilled we're still on good terms.) I want to get this crap started!

My blogs aren't very fun lately, sorry. :/ I'll be humorous again someday, I promise.

Oh, hey, someone else who blogs on here should tell me how to change my template to one of the cute ones, like you all have, or make one or whatever. Because I totally don't get it.

Oh, Many Things...

2010-05-26T21:33:00.000-05:00

So I've been a mom of two for a week now, almost, and it's pretty nice. Still trying hard to balance the two girls, and kinda failing miserably, but that'll come in time, I imagine. When Keira's a little less needy, Rhi will get more attention again. And living by my mom is so helpful, she's been sending us food, and taking Rhi over there to play sometimes so she doesn't feel super neglected...

Keira is totally gorgeous, and a pretty good baby. We've been sleeping really, really well, because we've been co-sleeping. I know, I know...you're not really supposed to, for a billion reasons. But Keira does NOT sleep well in her crib. Like, she has us up every fifteen seconds. But in bed with us? She sleeps amazingly. Every couple of hours, she wakes up, makes little noises, smacks my chest with her hand, I latch her on, nurse her, and then we go back to sleep. We're taking appropriate co-sleeping precautions (I read a lot of the Dr. Sears stuff on it) and it's working wonderfully for us. I still intend to try to get her into her crib, but, right now, she wants nothing to do with it. And I have so many co-sleeping friends whose babies have done very well, so I'm not that stressed about it. I might change my mind when she can move around more, and the dangers of her suffocating or something increase, but for now, this works. We feel very close as a family at night. And, I get sleep! Lol.

So, as you may or may not know, our family moved while I was ginormously pregnant with Keira. What you almost certainly don't know is that we moved into a very small trailer. We did this mostly so that I could stay home longer with the baby - I own the trailer, so no rent or mortgage, and it's all electric, so no gas, either. But it is VERY, VERY, VERY crowded. And making us slightly insane. Soooooo...we've decided to work on constructing a house. Soon. Optimally, we will do 3-4 rooms by fall, and move into them for the winter, keeping the trailer as storage. Then, spring/summer of next year, we'll add another 4 or so rooms, completing our home. We're going to try to do almost everything ourselves (but if you're local, and want to help, dear god, we would love you FOREVER) and we're going to try to use a lot of green materials and reclaimed stuff for the building itself. We're thinking of doing a cob bale construction, although we need to look into some stuff with that, like how you do normal electricity in those (we're not green enough to be able to be totally off the grid.) But we're excited about it all, and I'm looking forward to creating a new home for us all.

We have a 2nd doctor's appointment for Keira tomorrow. She lost a BUNCH of weight in the hospital, and had gained a little back as of Monday at her first appointment, but her doctor wants to see her again tomorrow just to make sure she's still doing ok. Which she should be, as she is growth spurting like crazy, and has detached from me for, oh, 2 hours total today. :/ Oh well, it'll calm down soon.

Tomorrow at high noon...

2010-05-19T19:47:00.000-05:00

I give up.

I'm 41 weeks, 1 day pregnant. So eight days “overdue.” (I put that in quotes because everyone knows your due date is a guess unless you had IVF or something.) And nothing is happening. I'm not dilating. I'm not effacing. The baby isn't at the right station. None of this has changed for at least 3 weeks by anything but the most minimal of progressions.

My OB has been amazing. She knows how much I wanted to have a VBAC, and she's been amazingly supportive. She's done every non-chemical induction technique she can think of (save breaking my water, because she literally can't, due to the aforementioned non-progression.) She's been supportive of the non-chemical things I've done to try to help things along. She's let me continue past my due date, although most of the group that she practices with has a pretty stern policy of “as a VBAC, you go into labor by your due date or you schedule another c-section.”

But nothing's working. And I'm beginning to feel like I'm putting principles over everything else.

It was fine for awhile. But I found myself today, with a less than wonderful non-stress test, and higher than normal blood pressure, and everything still not looking favorable for labor, and I really can't deny anymore that this just ain't doing it.

If you know me, you know I'm pretty pro-intervention free labors. I didn't even want an epidural, much less another c-section. I started this pregnancy in optimal health, and although I gained more weight than I wanted to, I stayed pretty active and ate pretty healthy foods for the most part. I did a lot of things right. But something is just wrong.

My OB said today that every time she does something – a c-section, an induction, any intervention – she thinks, “Is this a necessary thing for the baby, or am I doing it for some other reason?” If it's necessary, then she goes ahead. Otherwise, she looks at other options or holds off. Well, for weeks now, I've been looking at other options, so to speak. I've been doing all in my power to make this happen. But I've been doing it for me. I've been doing it because *I* didn't want a c-section, because *I* was scared, because *I* felt like less of a woman, because *I* didn't want to give up.

I remember, at the start of this pregnancy, bargaining with my body after reading the risks vs. rewards of VBAC. I remember thinking, “Ok, body. I'm gonna trust you. I'm gonna let you do your thing. Because I believe that you'll inherently know if something isn't right, and you won't go into labor..”

Well, labor hasn't happened. And it's time for me to go, “Maybe this isn't meant to be, and since it's possible that I could be endangering my kid by keeping this up, it's time to throw in the towel.”

And so I scheduled my c-section today. For tomorrow, at noon. And I cried. I cried in the OB office, I cried in my car, and I'm crying now. I've always been an amazingly determined person, and I honestly have a hard time believing or admitting that I can't do anything. It's served me pretty well so far, too. Usually, what I set my mind to hard enough, I get. This is one of those rare times that I'm not going to. And it hurts my pride.

It's not like that's the total reason I'm upset, of course. I also feel defective, like a failure. How can I not birth a child normally? Really? That's what my body's design is for, but I can't manage it? And I'm terrified of the surgery itself. If you remember, in a previous blog, I talked about it being a pretty traumatic experience. And I almost felt like this successful delivery would cause some of those wounds to heal. And I'm still scared of things like “getting a blood clot” or “dying on the table” or a multitude of other things.

But I'd be scared if I had a vaginal delivery, too. I need to try to remember that, I guess.

Anyways. Tomorrow I will be a mother for the second time. And it won't be the way I had hoped or intended or wanted. But that's life, I suppose. And it's just dumb to let my upset about the way I'm delivering my daughter cloud the momentous and wonderful occasion of her birth.

I'm like a superhero. Except crazier.

2010-05-13T20:43:00.001-05:00

Or maybe the hormones are just a good excuse for the fact that I'm just nuts? It's possible.

Anyways, folks, it's been an interesting couple of days.

I should mention that I've been in the middle of some really stressful events that require a lot of manual labor for a 9 months pregnant chick, and we are not amused. This could be contributing to my psychosis.

Basically, I am the Incredibly Pregnant Hulk. And I will explode on your ass if you piss me off.

Probably the best thing to do would be to sequester myself from everyone on the planet til this kid pops out, but that's not really an option.

Let me give you an example of my insanity. As some of you may know because I whined about it on Facebook, Facebook was taunting me today with these ads. They were ads for Kansas City. Inexplicably, these ads contained some of the most amazingly delicious looking cupcakes I have ever seen in my life. Cupcakes that looked so good that I wanted to lick the screen of my monitor. These ads were making me literally do nothing for 5 minutes at a time but stare and think, "Jesus, why don't I have a cupcake? Could I bake some cupcakes...no, they wouldn't come out that good, I'm not that talented. I could *buy* some cupcakes...no, no, no, the cupcakes at the store aren't that good, either." It was not conducive to doing anything.

Then I realized that you can click "x" on the side of ads and make them go away.

Ha! I thought smugly. Screw you, cupcake ads!

And I victoriously clicked X.

If you click X on an ad on Facebook, Facebook gets very concerned. So they ask you why you clicked X.

Since "these cupcakes were too delicious looking and pissed me off" wasn't an option, I clicked other. And silly, silly Facebook gave me a little box to post what "other" meant to me.

Bad move, Facebook.

I'm not certain what the advertising team at Facebook will do/say when they get this gem back:
"I clicked X because those cupcakes were destroying my soul with their deliciousness. You see, I am hugely pregnant, and actually overdue, and seeing those cupcakes made me want one with a desperation usually only discussed in soap operas or Twilight fan fiction. However, all the ad says is some vague crap about Kansas City. Wtf? You don't even say WHERE I should get these cupcakes. And also I can't drive to Kansas City this pregnant. What if I went into labor? And! These cupcakes were probably made with HFCS *and* slave chocolate, so they'd probably be awful for me, nutritionally and morally."

I was going to write more examples, but that's probably the funniest. Well, that and when I went off on my friend Summer's BIL. But I really have to be productive now, on account of how the cupcakes seduced me into laziness earlier, so I'll have to tell that one another time.

End note: If you need someone bitched out, I'll happily do it right now. It might not make any sense. But I will. Spots are quite limited, though, as I won't be this hormonally insane forever.

We hope.

Pity, party of one

2010-05-12T20:27:00.000-05:00

I am officially postdate.

For those of you who might not speak pregnant woman, that means that my due date was yesterday and now I am on borrowed time with this baby. In America, it is unheard of for the most part to allow a pregnancy to progress beyond 42 weeks. Most doctors get itchy around 41 weeks and start talking inducing.

I am in the unique position of being totally unable to be induced, though. I had a c-section with Rhi, as most people know. It wasn't what I wanted, and followed an induction at 40 weeks, 1 day after there were some serious issues with the amniotic fluid levels in my uterus. I've come to terms with Rhiannon's birth, although it was quite unlike anything I wanted. However, the c-section makes it possible that if I were to be induced, my uterus could rupture, leading to serious issues and/or death for Keira and me. I'm gambling that anyways with a VBAC, but the odds increase exponentially if I'm chemically induced.

So two weeks from yesterday is the longest possible time I could go before I have to have a c-section.

I'm not happy about the idea of this, to put it mildly.

I healed well from my inital c-section. My body is a champ and takes what I throw at it with a lot of grace. So I'm not worried about that, or the pain, or anything. I have a small weird paranoia that I'll die in childbirth but that actually appears to be a fairly common fear, so there's that.

But my c-section before was just so disappointing. I remember being taken into surgery. I remember it taking FOREVER for them to get the spinal in (apparently, I have nice, thick cartilage. That's not the compliment you'd imagine when they have to stick you about 9 times to get it to go through.) They laid me on a table (the second the spinal worked, I lost all movement from my mid chest down and just kinda flopped over.) They poked me several times to see if I was numb enough, and then my ex came in. He and the anesthesiologist sat by me while my OB was cutting me open. I remember thinking, "Pfft, this isn't that bad."

Then it happened. Despite the fact that they'd given me anti-nausea medicine, despite the fact that I hadn't eaten anything for over 24 hours but Bomb Pops, and despite the fact that I have a cast iron stomach and rarely vomit, I had to puke. Epically. But I couldn't. The spinal had made my muscles too weak to allow me to. Which scared me terribly. I remember being convinced that I was going to choke on my own vomit and die and I wasn't even a freaking rock star post drunken binge. And I got hysterical and started shrilly talking about this to everyone. So Mike and the doctors are trying to calm me down, and I just kept telling them that I didn't want to do this anymore and to please stop and take me off the table now. I actually tried, at one point, to get up, which - and this may shock you - doesn't work when you're given a spinal. And, in retrospect, is a bad plan when someone has cut the lower half of you apart.

It was terrifying, and I have never been more sure in my life that I would die. I know I sound melodramatic, but it is true.

When they pulled Rhi out, I saw her for all of five seconds - I can't even remember if I got to touch her - before they left with her. And then they stitched me up and I was so exhausted that I passed out on the table.

When I got to the recovery room, I did, in fact, get to hold and nurse her right away, which is fairly unusual for many women post c-section, I guess. But the experience had been so traumatic for me that I was emotionally and physically exhausted, and I really felt...disconnected from the whole thing. Understand, Mike and I tried for this baby for a long time. I spent every second of the pregnancy waiting anxiously for her. I was so connected to the whole process, so ready to have my baby, but the events and the drugs of the day made me almost ambivalent to my own kid. And then they shot me up with morphine, and I projectile vomited all over the room. So that was special.

The c-section also made my milk come in later than it normally would have, leading to issues with nursing. And there were a lot of things I wasn't supposed to do right away, either, because of the c-section. It made me feel very weak and almost powerless, which is not a feeling that I enjoy.

Because of the events of then, I'm pretty against having another c-section.

I want to birth my baby normally. I want to hold her instantly. I want it to be a beautiful moment for Shane and me. I want to see her, touch her, hold her before everyone else this time. And I want to be able to bond with my kid without being all doped up and traumatized.

So far, my body doesn't seem to be cooperating. Keira's head down, has been forever, I'm having Braxton Hicks contractions, but I'm not dilating or anything. At all. I take some solace in the fact that there are many people who just...don't, until they actually go into labor. Those measurements appear to not matter for a whole hell of a lot.

Which is only slightly reassuring. Because I have, again, maybe 14 days to spontaneously burst into successful labor before I lack choice in the matter. Which seems like an awfully short amount of time.

I'm doing everything possible to encourage my body to go into labor, but, in the end, it's really my body's call. I can wish and pray and prepare all day long, but if everything's not perfect, it's just not gonna happen.

And that's kind of depressing.

It depresses me, too, that people get elective c-sections. Seriously. Reading an article about some chick going into the hospital 5cms dilated and *opting* to have a c-section to "avoid the pain of labor" made me want to jab that person in the throat with something sharp. Fuck you. I'd love the pain of labor. Send it my way.

I know being all resentful doesn't help anything, but I'm a hormonal psycho right now and not entirely normal anyways. And I think even if I wasn't all hopped up on pregnancy insanity that I'd be pissy reading that stuff. It's human nature. I'm not justifying it, or saying that it should happen, but it does.

I'm not even sure where I'm going with this blog anymore. I think I just had to write it to get my feelings out about this whole thing. Because this mixture of dread and depression and jealousy and resentment and anxiety is a pretty crappy one. And although I've talked about it before, I don't think I delved into it this much.

*Sigh* Makes for pretty boring reading for you guys, though. Sorry.

I promise a funny, happy blog soon.

Also, I'm not spellchecking this. Because I hit the button and it flagged a bajillion words like "Braxton" and I thought, "Man, screw this." So if my spelling sucks, I'm sorry. Kind of.

Kids and the world

2010-05-04T13:12:00.000-05:00

So I read something another parent posted today that said something along the lines of how she wasn't going to let people say negative things about their bodies in front of her child, so her body image wasn't destroyed. And I read this blog, again by Maria, where she discusses, among other things, some close minded thoughts on Sandra Bullock adopting a black kid, and how people worry that he won't be able to understand what it means to be black, since his mom is white, and won't be able to deal with racial slurs.

Here's the thing.

We all want Utopia for our kids. We want serenity, and beauty, and peace and love. We don't want them to experience evil, or hatred, or pain, or unfairness. We want them to keep the innocence we don't get anymore. We want them to believe that every fairy tale has a beautiful, shiny, happy ever after.

But they're not going to get that.

The world can be an amazing place. The people I meet on a regular basis wow me with how amazing they are. I live a fantastic life, and I'm very, very lucky to have the amazing friends and family that surround me. Sometimes the wonder of life overwhelms me.

You can't discount the darkness in the world, though.

There is hatred, and prejudice, and evil. There are people who intentionally hurt others for no real reason. There are people who hate based on sex or race or ethnicity or religion or orientation or body type. It's a sad reality.

Shielding your kid entirely from the negative things out there, to me, sets them up to be crushed. If they don't know that sometimes, people aren't good, it hits them that much harder when they realize it. It's a fine line. You can't, and shouldn't, raise your kid to be a jaded jerk who thinks everyone is out to get them. But stopping anything negative from being said around them just puts them in a big old bubble that someone, someday, is going to pop with a giant bang.

I don't know exactly when or how I'm going to broach things with the girls. I don't know how to someday tell them that there will be bad things in their lives beyond "Mommy won't give me a sucker for breakfast." I'm sure I will botch it a little, I'm sure it'll still hurt when they discover it. I'm not, and never going to be, the perfect parent. And it's especially hard to address hatreds that I really don't understand. I can't tell the girls why some people hate gay people, or black people, or whatever, because I don't get it. I don't get to use my lack of understanding as a pass, though. My job is to raise my children to be decent people who make the world a little bit better. I am incapable of doing that if I never address the less pretty side of people.

And, in case anyone's wondering, I have no idea on the bat issue yet. I'll probably update the last bat blog whenever I do.

Bats are Evil and Depressing Part 2 UPDATED!

2010-05-03T18:18:00.001-05:00

Subtitled Rabies is Scary

So, as most of you remember from the bat blog the other day, there was a bat all up in my house on Saturday. And if you don't remember, you should re-read it. But I'm not linking to it, because it's, like, two blog entries ago, and you can probably find it on your own.

Well, a friend of mine had messaged me after I wrote it saying, "Hey, not to alarm you, but you can't always feel bat bites and you might need a rabies vaccine." Which freaked me out a little, but whatever. I called our doctors' afterhours lines. My line said we were probably ok, Rhi's line said get the vaccine.

So, I'm confused. So I call Mike, and do a lot of Googling, and after a lot of upset, we decide to wait until Monday, talk to our actual *doctors* and go from there.

My appointment was this morning. And my doctor was totally unconcerned. She said she doubted a bat would just bust up into my bed and bite me for no reason, and that she wouldn't advise the shots, because the chances are slim to none of rabies, anyways.

Whew, right? Not so fast.

Rhi's doctor calls, and he advises that we get the shots. Because if you do get rabies, you die. The end. And you don't die nicely, you die horribly. And, apparently, of the cases of rabies discovered that led to death, 26 of the 28 appear to have come from bats. 20 of those people had never mentioned being bitten by a bat in any way, shape, or form. Not even to their families and closest friends.

So I inquired how to get the shots, and Rhi's doctor said that they didn't carry them and to call the county health department.

So ok.

I do, where they, of course, don't have them, or have any idea where you get them. OF COURSE. Because god forbid anyone know what to do if something serious as hell totally happens or anything. *rolls eyes*

But, they do put me in touch with a very nice woman who handles animal type issues for the county. And she tells me that about 1% of bats are rabid, that the fact that the bat went away from Shane and didn't just lie fluttering on the floor or go towards him is a good indicator of health. And also that rabies isn't in season, which makes no sense to me, but whatever. She advises not to get the vaccine.

Then Rhi's actual doctor calls me. (I know I said doctor before, but it was his nurse. Which probably makes sense if you have a pediatrician, as they seem to never want to get on the phone.) And he's still skeptical, but agrees that it is hard to get the shots. But he says he'll totally write a doctor's order for us, but he wants to run it by the state animal health person (which is probably not their actual title.) So he'll call back tomorrow and let me know what's up.

This entire thing has made me utterly confused. I have no idea what's happening or what to do, or if I have to make my poor three year old and I get a series of 5 shots over 14 days (no, the rabies shot isn't in the stomach anymore, and, yes, it's considered safe for preggos. And I'm not including Shane in this equation because he has flatly refused to even consider the vaccine anyways.)

But I do know this.

If you have a bat in your home ever, KILL IT AND SEND IT OFF TO BE TESTED. Don't crush its head because they have to test the brain. And then you won't have to go through a confusing nightmare of utter annoyance like we are.

Sigh.

I'll update you all on this tomorrow.

UPDATE #1
Rhi's doctor called and said the state guy can't call him back until tomorrow, but he's done his own research and believes that, according to information from the CDC, that we are at extremely low risk. However, it still all hinges on what the state dude says, and he will call tomorrow. Hence the update #1 part.

I don't wanna...

2010-05-02T11:44:00.000-05:00

I have to be a responsible adult today.

This kid is due in 9 days. Nine. Freaking. Days. The LONGEST I could still be pregnant is 28 days, if my doctor were allow me to go to 42 weeks (which she may or may not, depending on many, many circumstances) but, most likely, I will have another kid in 16 days or less.

We are, as you may remember me mentioning before, not even slightly ready.

We have most of what we need. Well, except for a couple things. One of which I may have just ordered last night. And it may take 7-10 business days to get here. So, Keira has to wait 7-10 business days to be born. Which probably means I'll be in labor tonight.

Anyways. I really just don't feel like doing responsible things. I feel like lying on my couch reading and eating Ben and Jerry's (by the way, Ben and Jerry's has a flavor now with fair trade, and subsequently slave-free chocolate in it, which fills my heart with joy. If you have no idea what I mean by slave-free chocolate, you should go here, to the blog of the lovely and talented Maria, and spend less than 5 minutes educating yourself.)

But I can't lie on the couch today.

Because within 16 days (probably,) we'll have a baby.

And I have a HUGE laundry list of things to do.

Like wash baby clothes. Now, understand, this seemed like it wasn't at all a big deal yesterday. Because I was looking at this small bag of clothing that I'd purchased from Goodwill for Keira and thinking, "Yeah, no problem, that's like a half a load."

Except, I'm an idiot.

What I totally forgot was the fact that, at our baby shower, we got 80 acres of baby clothes, and blankets, and washcloths, and other things that you have to wash before using on a baby.

Annnnddddd, I also just remembered that I forgot to ever write thank you notes. So if you bought me a gift and think I'm a jerk, I'm not. Ok, yes, I am. A little. But I'm mostly just really forgetful.

This has nothing to do with this blog, but I JUST ORDERED PIZZA ONLINE. I'm pretty excited about this, because I didn't have to wait through the annoying fake person on the phone telling me all of Domino's specials. And, I know, I know, I'm trying to eat better, but I've been doing really well with that and sometimes you just need someone else to make you pizza. And this someone else is apparently Heather, who put our order in the over at 12:14, according to the Domino's website, which is strangely specific about stuff.

Oh, and I have to sterilize bottles. I can't remember doing this with Rhi, but that may have been because she thought bottles were evil and only breasts could dispense milk. Which was fine, except that sometimes, I really, really would have enjoyed being able to go anywhere for over 10 minutes without taking her. So when the threat of nipple confusion passes, I plan to occasionally try to get her to take a bottle. That won't be for awhile, and, honestly, I *could* slack on washing and sterilizing now, but, really - I will hate myself when I have this child if I haven't done it all. Because doing anything with a new baby is damn near impossible. I can remember begging Mike to take Rhi for like five minutes so I could just, please god, take a shower. So yeah.

And I have to check my infant Tylenol for this recall. Recalls increasingly freak me out, especially when they're for baby products.

In other news, my daughter is walking around with puppets on her feet.

****UPDATE****
Wait, can I put an update on a blog that I haven't actually posted yet? I'm doing it anyways. I'm a blog maverick like that. You can't touch me, Sarah Palin!

So, Shane failed to mention to me that, "Hey, baby, let's order pizza and I'll pay since we're both hungry and also I love you and stuff," came with the stipulation that *I* had to remove myself from the couch and go pick it up. And nothing I said to try to get out of it worked. Even when I told him that I was blogging, he wouldn't let me off the hook. In fact, he just said that I was probably writing about spiders or bats or how much he sucked and that it wasn't that important.

Which is wrong, because the fate of the world probably somehow depends on me writing blogs. Somehow. In some strange butterfly effect kind of way.

I, after much whining, did go get pizza where I discovered that "Heather" actually appeared to be a portly man with no hair and flour smeared on his apron.

And the boxes also tell you to tip your delivery driver and that they carry less than $20. Which seems like a crappy time to tell you that, after you have your pizza. And you may or may not have already robbed a driver or not tipped someone by then, so that sucks.

Sigh. I really should get up and do something constructive now. Also, I'm pretty sure that this blog is probably not at all amusing or even coherent. Until next time, blog readers.

UPDATE #2, actually written AFTER I posted!
How do I sterilize bottles again?

Nomenclature

2010-05-01T12:36:00.000-05:00

If you have any idea why I titled this blog that, you're better than me. At life, possibly. The word has been stuck in my head today, like that popcorn piece that always seems to get stuck in my gums and then I have to floss my teeth, no matter what the time, place, or extenuating circumstances or life sucks. Except the word isn't inherently annoying like that popcorn piece. So really it's not the same thing at all.

I'm in a strange mood today.

Perhaps it is because I am slightly rabid, although I certainly hope not, as I suspect that that would be a negative for the child incubating in my uterus.

You see, Shane and I - and Rhi - live in a house. We rent said house. The house appears to be just like any other house, except that the outside has a Santa Claus tethered to the porch, and it's May. No one quite knows why the Santa is there; it appeared quite randomly one day and, honestly, I am too lazy to move it. I realize that it is possibly 5 pounds of plastic, so this shouldn't be difficult, but it seems like a considerable amount of effort somehow, so Santa stays where he is. On the plus side, I image that anyone who has thought for even a second about robbing our home has come to the (correct) conclusion that anyone who has a plastic Santa tethered to their porch in May probably does not have overflowing heaps of riches.

Anyways, I digress.

So, my house seems perfectly normal, despite the fact that it's a little more festive than yours, but I remain convinced that, once upon a time, Bruce Wayne lived here. Now, Bruce Wayne was not known for his humble beginnings, so I have no idea why he lived in a rental in a small, poor, and utterly lame Missouri town, but there is just no other explanation for the fact that bats are attracted to this house like the plague.

(I'm segueing here to mention that, yes, I know Batman was not actually known for his association with bats in the comic books and or movies, but this is my blog and I can write whatever I want. Also, if you were a bat, and a famous superhero had your name in his heroic moniker, wouldn't you want to visit his house? You totally would.)

Anyways, back to the bats and why I may or may not be rabid.

So, Shane has lived in this house since...um...last spring, I think. So a year(ish)? And I've lived here a few months less, but since he got the house while we were together, it goes without saying that I've spent a lot of time here. And since I have been spending time and/or living here, there have been no less than 24* bats that have somehow maneuvered into the house at night time, intent on killing us all. Or flying around in circles around the house, which curiously has no doors on anything but the bathroom in mysterious patterns that may, if correctly interpreted, lead to the truth about life and/or the endtimes. Or it could just be some crazy bat game that they get off on. Who knows.

We have literally no clue where these bats originate from. It began last spring, ended over the winter, and, as of last night, has begun anew.

Usually these nocturnal visits occur while someone is still awake, but, last night, Shane apparently woke up to the interesting and unmistakable sound of a bat flying through our bedroom. So, being extra heroic, he leaped from bed, suited up for battle (and by that, you should picture him grabbing a blanket and pillow to chase the bat, knock it down, and catch it, and he was probably wearing Halo boxers and a t-shirt. Hey, I believe my loyal readers have a right to know all about Shane's studliness as a bat avenger. [wait, that sounds like he's avenging the bats, and not us. Ah, well, you get the point.])

So Shane apparently chased the bat into our kitchen, where it landed on a little shelf next to the cabinet that I never use. Assuming that he had beaten the bat into submission (but not, for my animal loving friends, having hit it at all, since Shane refuses to kill the bats and instead catches them and releases them outside where they can make their way back into our house for whatever fiendish purposes they have,) he left it lying there and went to get something to pick it up with. This is probably due to the fact that I have long lectured him about bats and rabies and how he is NEVER allowed to touch a bat with his bare hands EVER as I refuse to watch him get rabies shots and also he has no insurance for rabies shots, and so I would obviously just have to shoot him, a la Ol' Yeller, and that was a very sad book/movie and not something I want to do to my fiance. So, while he is gone, the bat scoots itself into a corner of said shelf, and is hovering there, looking pathetic and not evil when Shane gets back. Then, because bats are sneaky, sneaky jerkfaces who want you to think they're all nice when they're really bloodsucking harbingers of death, it, quick as a wink, shoves itself into a space roughly as big as the one between these two lines / / and goes behind our cabinet.

Shane, being extra heroic (and also knowing his fiancee will kill him in the face if she finds out he left a bat in the house while her pregnant self and her small child are asleep in said house since she is utterly convinced that bats are there to steal her soul or infect us all with rabies that will be totally incurable and turn us into zombies, somehow,) attempts to get the bat out by poking it with a spatula, but this apparently doesn't make the bat feel like leaving the area behind the cabinet. So, he seals up the space around the cabinet with plastic bags from grocery shopping (and that is why you should always save your bags for recycling, ladies and gentleman.)

Except, at some point in the night, the bat escaped.

I know this because after I woke up this morning, and puttered around the house, and woke Shane up, and ran some errands, I looked up at the ceiling to discover the bat, hanging and asleep, off of the trim stuff that has an actual proper name that I can't remember or bother to Google right now.

Being the brave soul that I am, I yelled, "Shane! Bat!" and barricaded myself and Rhi in the bathroom while he released the demon bat outside. (No joke, he didn't even touch it with his hands, and I made him scrub them afterwards for fear of him being infected by bat funk or something. That's how paranoid I am.)

So that's fun.

Seriously, I have no clue how these bats get in. There are no open spots in the house that appear to court a bat entering, and the only window that was cracked was in our room and is fairly new, with no holes or gaps in the screens. It is a mystery to me as to why bats seem to think our home is the bee's knees and why they don't just stay outside and eat bugs or whatever like normal bats do. Are we doing something, inadvertently, to attract them? I don't know, and you get a surprisingly few helpful entries when you try to Google such things.

I was, however, joking about the rabies. I'm 98% sure that any of us would have known if a bat landed on us through the night, and I checked myself and Rhi over for bite/scratch marks just in case. Although Shane is coughing a lot and acting quite grumpy today. Hmmmm...

*readies shotgun, just in case*

*by 24 up there, I meant 6. I'm prone to exaggeration sometimes. Still, try to tell me 6 bats isn't a wtf-inducing amount. You can't.

Also, I would never shoot Shane. Ever. Unless he really did become a rabid zombie and I had to to save humanity, and, man, even then, it'd be really hard and I'd cry a lot.

Real Women Have Curves

2010-04-29T10:08:00.000-05:00

So, lately on Facebook (and, seriously, how many of my blogs are inspired by something on Facebook? Nice. I'm so pathetic) there have been a bunch of "likes" lately on pages like "Curvy girls are better than skinny girls!" "I eat. I have curves. Get over it" and the like.

I have some issues with these pages.

It's not that I don't agree with the general idea that if you are not predisposed to be super skinny, you shouldn't fight to be. Let's face it, not everyone will be a size zero. I'm pretty sure my skeleton wouldn't fit into a pair of size zero jeans. It's not how I'm built. However, a few of my friends are so tiny that if they wore the same size that I wore, pre-pregnancy, they'd be overweight.

So I looked at the "Curvy girls are better than skinny girls!" page. And the default picture is of Kim Kardashian - a chick that is certainly built very curvy and also appears to be at a healthy weight for her body type. Right on. But the posts had a lot to do with things like "chubby chasers" and many, many, many of the fan photos were of women who are overweight to obese.

Understand, I am *certainly* not judging people who are overweight. I tipped the scales at over 300 pounds when pregnant with Rhi. And I've gained more with this pregnancy than I should have; it will absolutely take me some time to return to my target healthy weight after I have this kid.

But this country is becoming more and more obese and unhealthy by the hour. It is a serious problem that should actively alarm us. We eat refined, processed shit for every meal, we wash it down with jumbo sized sodas, our portion size is ridiculous (fun fact on this: Rhi's "kids meal" from a restaurant the other day - one that was only for people 12 and under - had enough food in it for her to eat to her fill there, for both of us to have adequate portions for lunch the next day *and* there was some left over,) we don't get enough physical activity, and it's not getting better. We're passing on unhealthy habits to our kids, too, making them think that this is ok.

All of that is a travesty.

I firmly believe that people can be healthy in an array of sizes. I know chicks who wear size 12s who are just built large, who have less fat on them than I did pre-pregnancy, when I was wearing a size 5 and hitting the gym 6x a week. I know girls whose ribs you could count who consume more food in one sitting than some obese people I know. Your body size/type/metabolism isn't something to be ashamed of. If you have a healthy body that you take care of, with the right foods and exercise, you should be celebrating yourself, no matter what societal standards say about you. But if you're not, don't justify it away by calling it curves. Instead, love yourself enough to make a pledge to start down a healthier path. Don't worry about being skinny or curvy. Worry about your quality of life when you get older. Worry about the example your unhealthy actions might be setting for your child or someone else you love. Take care of yourself.

And then celebrate how strong, healthy, and amazing you are, no matter what body type you have.

HFCS and other news

2010-04-25T13:13:00.000-05:00

So, high fructose corn syrup appears to be a pretty awful thing to ingest. And it seems like people everywhere are deciding not to use it, which is awesome.

But a lot of people are also saying that it should be banned in general in the United States. And I don't necessarily agree with that.

Why?

I'm just not a big fan of the idea of banning everything that's quasi-dangerous or bad for you. I favor labeling things with HFCS - much like how companies have done with trans fats. I am all about legislating to keep it out of things like children's school lunches. Absolutely. But beyond that...I don't like it. I just feel like there's this real mindset that we have to save everyone from themselves. If the risks of something are known, it's obviously stated that the component is in it, and you doing it doesn't pose risk to someone else, then if you make the decision to use something, it's all you. I'm a huge fan of personal responsibility. If you're an adult, I don't have to hold your hand and make you do anything.

Especially with something like this. This isn't drinking and driving, where there are serious risks involved. It's not even driving without a seat belt, where, yes, you can conceivably harm another person in your car by your irresponsibility. This is "you'll probably get fat and you might get cancer." Bad deal, yeah. But you'll also probably get fat and increase your risk for cancer by not working out. No one's banning being a couch potato.

Please note, if you're a friend of mine who is all about banning hfcs, it's not like I think you're a bad person or anything. I'm not being a douche here. I just think it's unnecessary. But good call for caring about the health of yourself and others, for sure.

But onto other news.

I am dragging my feet with preparing for this kid. Seriously. When I was pregnant with Rhi, I had my bag packed, my birth plan printed, the nursery ready by, oh, 7 1/2 months. With Keira? I *just* wrote my birth plan. The car seat? Not even close to installed. (Ok, although, in my defense, that's partially because the Radian is a little complex and I'm taking it to a car seat safety inspection place for help.) The bags are unpacked (despite Shane telling me more than once that we should get on that.) Her bed isn't set up; I'm not even completely sure I know where all the screws for it are, either.

I kind of feel like, at some point, I'll get a burst of energy reminding me to get on all this. But right now, I'm just...eh. Really, if she is born before her due date, the worst that'll happen is I'll have to beg my mom to wash some stuff for her to come home in and bring it to the hospital, and Shane will have to figure the car seat out on his own in the parking lot. The world probably won't end. The baby can sleep in a pack and play for a day or two while I sort out the bed situation.

Someone should tell me what to use to safely clean a crib and mattress, too. We wound up, for financial reasons, not doing the co-sleeper, so I'm just using Rhi's crib and mattress. We'll do what I did with Rhi - pop the mattress up to the highest level, drop the drop side as low as it goes, and sidecar it to our bed. Presto co-sleeper-o. But I need to wash both and I'm not sure what to use. I disinfected them a few weeks ago, so now I basically want to remove any chemical residue from that and also remove any lingering dirt and such. Someone should suggest something.

Marriage

2010-04-19T15:26:00.000-05:00

So I posted a pretty awful story on my Facebook yesterday. You can read it here.

But that's not really what this blog is about. Well, not totally.

So, in the comments, a friend of mine wrote something about how he didn't have a problem with gay couples having the same rights, as long as it wasn't called a marriage. This is actually something I've heard more than once - not at all just from him - and it's something that always perturbed me. It seemed like an issue of semantics more than anything.

But you can't really simplify it that much. You can't, because marriage is a highly personal thing.

I could write the dictionary definition of marriage. I could give you the history of it. I could go on and on about it. I could overload you with facts about it, I could write pages on religion and marriage. I could talk about the belief of many that marriage is an antiquated notion that just allows the government a piece of your love.

But I'm not going to.

How I will start is this: I believe that this country, more than most others, has a very picturesque view of marriage. Girls play brides as toddlers, we talk about getting married, we fantasize about our wedding days. We decide who our bridesmaids will be in high school, sometimes. We hold it up as this amazing, life changing, miraculously romantic event that will turn our lives into roses and flowers and never-ending love and fireworks.

We do ourselves a vast disservice.

We have terribly high divorce rates in this country. And I honestly believe that a huge part of that is the fact that we assume marriage is going to be some amazing event that will make us all whole. That we've found the person we're meant to be with forever, and nothing can change that.

But a lot can change that. In the years you're with someone, you are going to change and grow as a person. Think about it. I'm not even close to the same person at 28 that I was at 25. And 25 year old Star and 20 year old Star were certainly not the same either. Technically, it's the same person. But I had different priorities, different thoughts, different assumptions, different ideals. And five, ten, twenty years from now, I will look back on the me of today and probably say the exact same thing.

It's normal. But when you're in a relationship, one of two things happens. You either grow together, or you grow apart. And, honestly, it's probably easier to grow apart.

Yup, that's the big, giant secret of marriage. Marriage is work. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, it's a lot of compromise and not necessarily doing what you want, and sometimes being really pissed off at the other person. It's realizing that that adorable quirk that he has that was so adorable is actually really fucking annoying. It's running the way you want to spend that tax refund by someone else, it's making your dinner in two portions because you will die without mushrooms but he will vomit if he even sees one, it's making someone else as important as you are, and, sometimes, putting them first even when you don't want to. Honestly? It's easier to be single. Less sacrifice, too.

But I sound pessimistic and cynical, don't I?

Well, I'm not. After a marriage that, believe me, was spectacularly bad at the end, I'm planning to do it allllllll over again. I'm doing it all over again even knowing how hard it is, knowing how much parts of it suck, knowing that I'm taking a huge gamble that statistics say has a higher chance of failing than succeeding.

I'm doing it because of what marriage has become to me. My connotative definition of it.

Marriage is right when you're so pissed off at the person that you seriously want to just throw a brick at them because they're being SO DAMN STUPID and WHY CAN'T THEY JUST UNDERSTAND the REALLY OBVIOUS POINT you're trying to make and they're infuriating you so much that you can't even put it into coherent words - but you still don't think about calling it quits, because you love them and know that eventually, they'll realize how dumb they are. (Or, ok, you *might* be overreacting. A tiny, tiny bit. Maybe.)

Marriage is right when they're talking about something that you really have no interest in - in fact, it bores you about as much as, say, reading Dentistry Today, and, also, they're using so much jargon that you maybe understand every other word anyways - yet, you honestly make an effort to pay attention and note some of it, because you can see that gleam in their eyes and tell how totally important it is to them. And you know that this is them sharing something with you that, to them, is really special.

Marriage is right when you have the option of going out on a Saturday night but you really just want to stay home and play video games or watch a movie with them.

Marriage is right when you can be the person you truly are in front of them, with no stupid pretenses. When they can make you feel just as sexy when you're in jeans and a t-shirt with bad hair as when you're in stilettos and a hot outfit. When they buy you a present that you know damn well they thought was ridiculous and unnecessary, yet, because you wanted it, you got it. When they really, truly listen to your dreams and don't discourage them - although they may not give you the perfect, rose-colored glasses view of them, they believe that you can do it despite the adversity. When you know that if something horrible and tragic happened, you could be there for them. When you know that you don't get to take only your own opinion to make important steps, and you know theirs will sometimes be totally different, and yet you're ok with that. When you can look beyond the white dress and veil and know that after the honeymoon period, you will, absolutely, hit horrible, rocky patches at some point and that one (but probably both) of you will act in a way that is just not cool at all and there will be times that everything is terribly hard and frustrating but, even knowing all those things, you can't think of anyone else you'd rather weather all of that with - well, then, that's the right kind of feelings for a successful marriage.

None of that has to do with sexuality at all. It has to do with love, commitment, unselfishness, and a willingness to work. I firmly believe that straight OR gay people can have a successful marriage, just like straight OR gay people can probably royally screw a marriage up. And I'm aware that my definition and yours, or your pastor's, or your friend's, or your family's, are probably totally different. But *your* definition is only my business if I have an interest in marrying you. (And I don't, I'm off the market, lol.) The only people who should have the inherent right to decide whether to turn their relationship into a marriage are the people in it. Those are the only important ones in the equation.

You are destroying yourself and your entire family and other fun facts

2010-04-01T16:53:00.000-05:00

I read voraciously. And I read lots of things, from novels to nonfiction, from internet satire to newspapers, from children's books to magazines and everything in between. I love fiction, but I also really like expanding my mind and world view, so I also study a lot of nonfictional sources.

And, man. Sometimes it really blows.

I read an article today on going green. Except, instead of giving helpful advice on how to do something constructive, it basically went on and on (and on and on) about how everything you give to your children ever is doing terrible things to them and you basically suck at life.

Really, it was the least optimistic article on Earth.

Listen, I want to be more green. I like the idea of reducing my carbon footprint, I like knowing what I can do to make my family healthier. I want to incorporate more organics. I want to compost. I want to do eighty billion things. But, really, writing something that says, "Everything that you use is killing yourself and your child, and by the time you pop out the kid you're baking right now, she will already be practically poisoned beyond repair anyways," just depresses me.

I won't even terrify you all by repeating ANY of the awful things in the article, nor will I give them any publicity by telling you where it was.

But I will tell you my stance on the whole thing.

Listen. We, as a people, are living longer than ever before. People have the ability to function in this society and be ridiculously healthy - even if they eat fast food every once in awhile or use Windex instead of all natural eco friendly stuff. A lot of people become unhealthy because they make terrible choices - like eating NOTHING but fat laden, processed crap and never ever working out.

But I'm also not a proponent of "You can NEVER do..." Well, I mean, in some cases, yeah. You probably can't be healthy and have the occasional crack, for instance. But with most things, moderation is key. I can spend fifteen minutes in the sun not slathered in sunscreen and probably not get skin cancer. I can let my kid eat pizza and cookies for dinner every once in awhile and not be dooming her to a life of obesity. If I don't buy everything organic because I can't afford to pay organic prices on everything and feed my family, I can still make healthy choices.

If you focus all the time on how dangerous everything on Earth is, when do you ever get to live? How soon until you take it to the extreme? If nothing is safe and nothing is healthy, what do you do? How do you fix that? How do you survive in a modern society?

I want to know what I can do to help my family. But I don't want a depressing, pessimistic opus on how I'm making all the wrong choices. Especially when the right choices appear to be unattainable outside of Utopia. I just want a common sense view on things.

Ahhhh new moms to be...

2010-03-29T17:21:00.000-05:00

So you hear a lot of very interesting things at the ob/gyn. People talk in the waiting room there about things you'd seriously never imagine people discussing in public, lol. Which is whatever, I certainly don't give a shit what people are talking about, and, sometimes, I get to listen to something quasi entertaining while I'm waiting.

Well, today, as I'm waiting, in walk these two girls. They sit a few seats away from me, and start gossiping about normal, everyday stuff that you blather to your friends about. Work, school, all that. From the conversation, I glean that girl #1 is newly pregnant - which is ok-ish with her because she just got engaged anyways and it's her last semester at school.

Allow a segue for a moment here. Both girls are very put together - dressed in skinny jeans with heels, the preggo has a very cute silk shirt with a jacket and scarf, perfectly done nails, amazing hair and makeup. Her friend is dressed slightly more casually, but still looks quite chic. They're both very tanned. They're thin, but not athletic looking, if that makes sense. (I assure you, this will all matter in a moment.)

Ok.

So, there are patients going in and out, I'm reading a book and half listening to those two gossip, when an obviously new mom comes in. She's got her newborn in an infant carrier, she's frazzled-looking, hair in a ponytail, no makeup, jeans and a t-shirt. Her baby is crying, and she has a small spot on her shoulder where you can tell that, at one point, her baby spit up a little. She's obviously tried to clean it up, but as anyone who has attempted to clean baby puke without actually just washing the shirt (and even sometimes with that,) it's not the easiest thing to do.

So the pregnant girl by me lowers her voice and goes, "Oh my gawd, I am *so* not going to be the mom who lets herself go. Ugh, just look at that woman. She looks terrible." And she and her friend go into this conversation about how moms like that are totally lazy and look at Heidi Klum, who was back in the VS shows like instantly and they would NEVER be caught dead looking like that in public. EVER. It's a travesty.

And I'm sitting there, trying my hardest not to laugh my ass off.

You see, I have never - NEVER - known a new mom who didn't look frazzled and a little less groomed with a newborn. Ever. You know why? Because newborns are a fuckload of work, that's why. I mean, they're adorable, and you love them, but there are days that it's all you can do to take a damn shower, much less spend an hour in hair and makeup. And at four weeks postpartum (when my ob schedules your post baby checkup,) most new moms think "skinny jeans" are the prebaby jeans that you can zip but not yet button. Sure, there are exceptions. But by far, with a newborn, you do have a minute of "letting yourself go." Shit happens. You regain yourself, usually right around the time your kid sleeps through the night (or at a 4-6 hour stretch, at least.) While you're getting negative sleep, though, I assure you, that becomes WAY more seductive than any other activity you can imagine when you have a free moment.

Also, I'd hate to tell preggo, but when your hair starts falling out all over the place, putting it in a ponytail seems like an amazing option so it doesn't wind up, say, wrapped around your kid's toe. When you're going through the insane paranoid period of new motherhood, wearing heels seems like tempting fate to make you drop your kid directly on their head. When your baby pukes or poops on you, you'd much rather it be on that $3.00 cotton thing you bought at Target on sale and not the $50.00 silk shirt that has to be dry cleaned. And those dangly earrings get retired until they become something other than "a way for your baby to yank your earlobe off."

So when the girl got called in, and she and her friend walked past the new mom, giving her half pitying, half disdainful looks, I actually *did* laugh out loud. And when the new mom looked at me like I was slightly crazy, I said, "Oh, that one has a very steep learning curve." And she smiled in a way that teetered between agreeing and wondering if I was mentally unbalanced.

And I went back to reading about Dexter. All in all, a good time.

Because you've all been dying to hear them...

2010-03-25T16:18:00.000-05:00

My thoughts on health care reform.

Some of you have already read them. Possibly in multiple places. Some of you (hi, Shane) have heard me go off on tangents involving four letter words and lamenting how incredibly ignorant some people are on the basics of the plan.

If you know me at all, you know I've been extremely passionate about health care reform. I spent some time working in the health insurance business, and it was extremely disheartening. Companies conduct themselves in horrible ways (Google Mega Health Insurance if you want some really terrible horror stories,) costs are freaking insane, and people get dropped for getting sick - you know, the very thing that you get health insurance for. It sucks, as a whole.

I will admit, this bill was something I was very undecided on for awhile. Especially after they added the part about mandating coverage. (Read this, by the way, for some interesting information on the origins of mandating insurance.) I thought - and still do think - that that part sucks. I see the reasoning behind it, but I think that making insurance affordable would ensure that people bought it anyways. So there was that, and a few other things holding me back from fully supporting the bill. I may not have been shouting "kill the bill!" but I was certainly wondering if that wasn't maybe the best plan after all.

Then I looked into it. And what I saw...well, it wasn't perfect. Not at all. But it certainly wasn't the apocalypse. Or our country becoming a Nazi regime. Or any one of a billion other things that people said it was.

There are, however, some wonderful things in this bill:

1. The ability to insure your kid until 26.
- This economy combined with the fact that there aren't a lot of jobs that you can get right out of high school and actually make a living with are increasing the amount of people that go to college. Like your mom. (I had to add in something to break up the monotony.) Well, most college students don't have decent health insurance from their jobs, for obvious reasons, and even after college, you have to do some entry level stuff that may not come with benefits. Well, now your kid can stay on your policy if they don't have another option. That's pretty amazing.

2. Health insurance exchanges
- This might be the most misunderstood part of the bill. The exchanges don't open until 2014, and they are on a state level. Basically, they allow individuals and/or small groups to band together to get large group health insurance plans.

So why is this good?

Individual and group insurance plans are confusing, confusing things. So let's clear that up first. An individual plan is one you buy that is just yours, or yours and your families. It's typically not through your work - you usually get them when you are self employed, unemployed, or work for a small company that doesn't provide insurance. The insurance company looks at your personal health history, and charges you accordingly. They also put riders on things that you have had issues with in the past, usually. (That means, basically, they don't cover you for that.) You may or may not have prescription drug coverage, and you almost certainly have to buy maternity coverage separately. In a group plan, like you get through work, the insurance company assesses the risk of everyone altogether. This tends to lower the costs, as there are usually more healthy than unhealthy people in any given group. Also, prescriptions and maternity are built in, and you generally have lower co-pays and deductibles. Group plans, as a whole, just suck a lot less, lol.

So, basically, you and these other people through the exchange are forming a small corporation for the purpose of insurance only. This gives you more bargaining power with insurance companies, and it allows you to get better coverage at a better price. But YOU are still selecting YOUR private group plan. Still free market, still not through the government.

3. Insurers can't deny kids with preexisting conditions now, and adults with preexistings in 2014.
- So you have this great job with AMAZING insurance. It's fantastic, you're thrilled. Well, then your company downsizes. And maybe you extend it with COBRA, but then you have to find new insurance. Except, every plan you try to buy has some issues with your daughter's asthma or your wife's kidney stones. Like, they won't cover them. BAM! No longer an issue.

4. Wellness programs
- Prevention is the best way to stay healthy. So, using preventative health services is good for you, and good for insurance companies. Well, now they'll have to cover certain things, with no additional charge to you.

5. Basically, everything involving businesses
- For some reason, this article also doesn't mention the fact that small businesses get tax credits if they do offer insurance (a small business is, in this case, under 50 employees and thus not required to get insurance or pay a fine.) That's awesome, and could mean the difference between being able to provide insurance or not provide insurance.

You don't have to agree with me on any of the above. But I really hope anyone reading this will take the time to educate themselves really, really well on the bill. There's been a bunch of insane fearmongering and ridiculous things said over the past few days, and there's a nightmare of misinformation out there. I'm ending this article with some links that have a wealth of information in them and appear to be as unbiased as it gets. Take time, form your own opinion. See the pros and cons of the bill. Evaluate them. Remember that nothing passed will ever be 100% what you want, because it's not only YOUR country. Realize that bills in this country are historically flexible. Then decide what action you want to take, if any. Be proactive and involved, but do it in a mature way after knowing what the hell you're talking about.

Christian Science Monitor (an in depth look)
Key Info on How You're Impacted
Another "How You're Affected" Thing
How It's Being Paid For (note: it's CNN, but honestly the least biased thing I could find. I usually don't post CNN links.)

The Texas Debacle

2010-03-14T14:12:00.000-05:00

(Please note: this blog uses a lot of four letter words. Because when I'm angry and writing, I don't monitor the amount of cursing I do. So if it offends you, either don't read it or replace the words with something more tolerable in your head. Whatev.)

Today is one of those days where I feel like I'm losing faith in the people of America.

Understand that I am pretty patriotic. I believe that this is, inherently, a pretty amazing country. I think we have a lot of wonderful things in place, especially since, comparatively, we're really, really young. I think that most people who live here are good, decent people. I feel like a lot of our "differences" are really small things that have just been blown up by people who take advantage of them to exploit their own agenda. For instance, guns. Such a huge hot button issue. Except that most people I know can agree that guns themselves aren't the end of civilization, that, yeah, certain people really don't need to be able to buy them, but that they are able to be owned and used safely and responsibly. Right? Except you NEVER hear that. You hear that conservatives want to hand a gun to everyone anytime and liberals hate them all and want everyone with a gun to hand them in. Then no one can have them EVER. The end. But even though there are extremists, for sure, on both sides, most of us meet somewhere in the middle ground. Too bad the people who want to get your vote are determined to hide that from you.

But that's a rant for another day.

Today, the state of Texas has given me a multitude of emotions...and none of them are good.

Last week, I have discovered, the Texas state board of education made a bunch of changes to its social studies curriculum. Changes that will utterly reshape the way Texas children learn about things like history and economics.

I first read about this in the Bad Astronomy blog (which I highly recommend to everyone, by the way.) And what I read, I couldn't quite believe. So I dug deeper. And grew more disturbed.

First of all, the Board originally used teachers and professors. But when they found out that the people who, you know, teach and presumably know these subjects well balked completely at many of the preposterous ideas, they threw it all out and brought in experts. Whew, you think, experts. Thank god. Well, think again. These experts were anyone that two of the (incredibly conservative) board could agree on. Like, oh, Peter Marshall. Peter Marshall, ladies and gentlemen, believes that Hurricane Katrina and the wildfires in California are punishments from God since we tolerate gays. You know, because Jesus was all about hanging out with only good, just people and never ever kicked it with, say, whores or lepers or anything. Nope, he pretty much added the 11th commandment about judging the fuck out of everyone and being a dick to everyone who wasn't up to par, God-wise. That totally happened. Or something not at all like that. But whatever. No matter what you believe about God, that person probably isn't someone you want setting up shit for impressionable young children.

So, you may be wondering what they did to make me so annoyed, right? Like, what *are* these crazy curriculum changes?

Well, here are just a few:
-Slavery was totally a remnant of British rule, and the Americans *tried* to cast it off FROM DAY ONE.
-They want to show that McCarthyism was totally right and just.
-Newt Gingrich is an important historical figure.
-Ronald Regan singlehandedly saved the entire world from communism.
-Martin Luther King Jr is a historical figure...BUT he shouldn't be credited with anything too huge in the fight for minority rights.
-The Black Panthers are being added to "balance" the Civil Rights movement.
-This was inherently intended to be a Christian nation and the whole "separation of church and state" thing is a big myth.
-Hispanics and their contributions are pretty much ignored completely.

But most of you don't live in Texas, so why is this a big deal anyways?

Well, folks, Texas is the largest shaping force in textbooks that are sold in this country. Which was once a pretty decent thing. Texas has, in the past, enacted a lot of pretty decent educational standards that lots of other states modeled themselves after. So now, even though the Texas Board has lost their damn minds, textbook companies will still be catering to them. Meaning that YOUR kids could have textbooks teaching all this nonsense.

Now, I'm not Christian...and I'm not conservative. But I spent a lot of time thinking about it this morning, and, quite frankly, this shit would piss me off even if I was. Who the fuck are these people to promote this kind of agenda in a children's textbook? As a parent, it's *my* job to teach my child about religion and or politics. It's *not* a public school's. If I wanted my girls bombarded with shit advancing a certain agenda, I'd put them in a private school that complied with *my* specific way of thinking. I understand that with history and social studies there is always a slightly skewed view...the winner of any skirmish, after all, shapes how things are perceived. But this isn't skewing like that. This is basically turning the textbooks of our children into conservative Christian tracts. And that just isn't right.

I want my child to learn facts at school. Facts that will prepare her for higher education, for making her way in the world. If she wants to search further for a spiritual meaning, or look into the religious exploits of the founding fathers, or cast a closer eye at what political ideology shaped certain things, then we can research it, and we can look at the conflicting sources and viewpoints, and she can draw a conclusion on her own. She can learn to explore further, become a critical thinker, and form her own beliefs that way. She'll learn to sort through propaganda and be a better person for it.

Forcing kids to parrot back the agenda you support isn't teaching. It's dictating.

Shame on you, Texas Board of Education.

Drugs and Herbs

2010-03-13T07:25:00.000-06:00

I'm a pretty big fan of science. I think scientific advances have done many, many wonderful things for humanity. And one of the most notable places that science has helped us prosper is in health care. We have vaccines that keep us from getting diseases that used to wipe out thousands of people. We have drugs that can help even HIV positive people lead long, fairly healthy lives. We have advances in detection of disease, in treatment, and even more are on the way. It's amazing.

Yet, I'm cursed with being one of those people who can see the grey in a lot of areas.

I recognize that some drugs are released before we know long term effects of them. I know that some times, the list of side effects with a medication is so daunting, you wonder if it's going to create more problems than it's worth. It's something of a mixed bag.

And I can't identify with the people who don't understand that.

There are people who are super into homeopathic remedies, ready to take any herbal supplement that's chic to do everything from stopping the clock on aging to cure cancer. And I understand that in a dire, terminal situation, most people would do *anything* to try to save themselves, so that's not the kind of person I'm thinking of. No, I'm thinking of, say, people who have HIV who refuse to take the medication to pretty much ensure that their unborn child won't have HIV, because "Big Pharma" is just trying to profit off the "AIDS myth." I'm talking about people who shun medications for their very sick selves or children to take herbs and heal with prayer. People who think upping their vitamin C will cure their breast cancer with no help from that pesky medical community. There are those people. I don't understand them. Because while I absolutely think YOU are ultimately in charge of your health, and that EVERYONE should be more proactive about that - knowing what they're taking, the benefits and risks involved, if there are other treatments available - basically taking some time to truly understand what's wrong with you and how you're trying to fix it - I don't think that that means shunning every medical advance ever made in a quest to make your life ultra natural. You have to make some compromises somewhere.

But, I also don't get the people who instantly scoff off *any* alternate treatment as ridiculous, either. These people think that *anything* that hasn't been dispensed by a pharmacist or prescribed by a doctor can't possibly be worth anything. They'd rather pop some pills - even if the benefits don't really outweigh the risks - than try anything even hinting at homeopathic. Even things that have actually been proven to do some good in some cases. People who would rather have extensive back surgery than see a chiropractor. People who would pop a handful of pills for that cold before using a Neti-Pot to relieve some congestion.

Listen, I *know* herbal does not equal safe. I know homeopathic stuff is, quite often, a bs way people make some money. After all, ephedrine was marketed as a "safe, herbal way to lose weight" and we all see how that worked out. But there are a few things out there that actually do some good. Fenugreek certainly helped amp up my milk production, my Neti-Pot has been simply invaluable during this pregnancy, and even obs recommend taking a DHA supplement. Some things are worth trying out. Especially when they've been shown to do good, with less side effects. Most of these things won't work for anything super huge - you wouldn't try to use chiropractic services to handle a broken back, for instance - but for smaller situations, they can be very worthwhile.

I feel like, in health care, it's important to be skeptically open-minded. A contradiction in terms, but the way to be. Be skeptical enough to not immediately take someone else's word without checking yourself, and be open minded enough to acknowledge that there's possibility in different things.

Why Do I Care?

2010-02-13T11:34:00.000-06:00

So a few minutes ago, I was bitching to Shane about this cover from OK! Magazine:

And I told him that there was NO FUCKING WAY that someone who is 5'4" and gained 55lbs with her pregnancy could be rocking a bikini like that 8 weeks after having her baby...especially after having admitted to losing only 25lbs.

His response was that he didn't really care, and he didn't know why I did.

I care because it's bullshit, to put it plainly.

First of all, the normal weight to gain during your pregnancy is somewhere between 25-35lbs. At least seven pounds of that is maternal fat stores. As in, straight up fat. The rest is varying degrees of baby stuff, like placenta, baby, amniotic fluid, extra blood, et cetera. And, surprise! Even after you deliver, you're not usually just 7 pounds over your former weight. Because even if you gained everything perfectly, it takes your body awhile to readjust from nine months of baby baking. Basically, the same reason you're an emotional nutcase after birth is the reason you're not insta-skinny.

Anyways, Kendra gained 55 pounds. So, probably, oh...at least 27 pounds of that was straight fat. She lost 25. Her baby was nine pounds. You picking up what I'm putting down here? Most of what she's lost is what ANY woman would be down by at 8 weeks postpartum, because by 8 weeks, your body has adjusted to some extent. So a 5'4" woman with (I'll be generous) at least 20 extra pounds of straight fat looks like that in a bikini?

Yeah, no.

So, why does it matter again?

It matters because women are judged on how they look. We all know it, there's no need to sugarcoat it. So why saddle them with an impossible post baby ideal? Because it sells magazines? That's a bullshit reason. It sells magazines because poor foolish people are picking that up going, "How the hell did she...oh! Diet tips! I can do this too!"

But you can't. Even if you are someone who lost all the weight in 8 weeks, unless you're like Heidi Klum, who spent her entire pregnancy eating exceptionally well, exercising, and generally taking supernaturally good care of herself while resuming post pregnancy working out and dieting 4.2 seconds after giving birth, you're still not usually in bikini condition 8 weeks later. You've probably *just* resumed working out (if you've bothered to at all.) Your skin is stretched out, you're stretch mark laden, your muscle tone is lessened and you're not feeling too awesome about yourself anyways. Then OK Magazine and Kendra come along and imply that if you're not in tip top shape again, you're obviously not doing something right.

It's depressing, ridiculous, and utter nonsense.

And not only is it bad for the self image and esteem of new moms, but it also gives new dads pretty unrealistic expectations.

Because let's look at things in reality here. He may love you and think you're gorgeous no matter what. Your relationship is built on way more than looks, anyways. But that doesn't stop men from being visual creatures. And most men will admit (not to you, probably) that they worry that, post-baby, their partner won't be as sexy. It's not because men are assholes, and I'm not trying to imply that at all. It's not sexist or mean or wrong. It's a common fear, and one men are entitled to. And the misconception that someone can look like a damn Playboy model again with some simple diet tricks 8 weeks post baby without even losing all the weight they gained probably makes some men a little disconcerted at the fact that their chick is still running around in maternity jeans.

Let me just end this by saying I'm not usually a person who bitches about Photoshopped stars. If you're looking at a model in a magazine and honestly thinking she looks like that in real life, well, you probably need a reality check anyways. But it's one thing to tweak and hide flaws and another entirely to redo someone's entire damn body and market it to women who are already self conscious from a very natural event that very naturally changed their bodies.

So, fuck yourselves, OK! Magazine. And double fuck you, Kendra Wilkinson, because by now you know how difficult it can be to lose baby weight, and you still think it's ok to sell an ideal YOU can't even be to the women of America. Shame on you.

Stream of Consciousness

2010-02-11T19:38:00.000-06:00

I'm a little more worried than I probably should be about this pregnancy. See, I'm a worrier. If they had, say, the Grammys for worries? Pfft, I'd be all up in that business. I *try* to be laid back and all that jazz, but I'm really bad about dwelling and freaking out over small things. Anyways, this particular small thing is, well, small. With Rhi, I was induced because my amniotic fluid was way low. And now they're monitoring me for the exact same thing with Kiera. And, today, the ultrasound tech said the fluid was normal, but on the low side of normal, and advised me to drink a lot of water. Which is frustrating, because I almost guarantee that I consume more water per day than almost anyone reading this blog. But I'm going to try to cut out that daily Coke (well, or I'll just do the decaf version, since it's a huge craving this pregnancy) and replace it with 2 more glasses of water.

On the bright side, I seem to have slowed down a lot on gaining weight. In the first trimester, I gained a ton with exercise restrictions, tiredness, and crippling nausea that wouldn't stop unless I had something in my mouth at all times. The second trimester, I just overindulged cravings. This trimester, I'm just making sure that when I eat I'm actually hungry, versus "Mmmm that looks good, I could eat, I guess." That seems to be helping, a lot.

I'm cancelling my gym membership, though. Why? Because, honestly, when we move, there is no way in hell that I'm going to be able to drive to town and cart 2 kids daily to go to a gym. It'd be expensive and selfish. So I'm just going to buy a Wii Fit. The Jillian Michaels thing, because she both scares and awes me, lol. I have an elliptical too so I think I will be in good shape as long as I actually use them. I also think I'm going to get a set of 8 pound or 10 pound weights to continue to tone my arms. Which have turned to flab since I've been a slacker. :(

My goal is to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight and tone in 6 months or less. Since I'm going to nurse her, I can't lose it too too rapidly. So I think 6 months is a good goal. I know I could do it a lot faster, but again...I don't want to lose it crazy fast with the bfing thing.

Rhi's first big girl Valentine party is tomorrow. That's insane. She's getting so big so fast. And she's so exceptional...smart, funny, and surprisingly athletic for being *my* child. I know all parents think their kids are just amazing, but she seriously blows my mind.

I'm so overly emotional lately. I feel like a caricature of a hormonal chick, and it makes me crazy. I cried at a cartoon the other day. I won't even tell you which one, I'm too embarrassed. I have also cried at, in the past week: a book, a commercial, a baby magazine, Rhi singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Twitter. Twitter, for god's sake! And those are the things I knew I was crying about. I have also, three times now, cried for NO APPARENT REASON. I'm stupid jealous and paranoid, too. I became convinced that Shane was having an affair the other day. Why? Hahahaha, if I knew, I could tell ya. Shane is like the least likely cheater on Earth.

I find myself re-reading all the same crap over and over and over, so if anyone has books they no longer want, they should pass them on to me.

I'm so so so so so so so so so glad for this three day weekend. I need it like whoa. My job is really stressing me out, mostly because my overly emo self is taking everything on Earth to heart lately. I really wish I could afford to go on maternity leave now, but we just can't afford for me to. Sucks, but there are only fiftyish more days left til my two weeks of vacation followed by maternity leave. I can do fiftyish days, especially since in three weeks, I get four day workweeks by virtue of prenatal monitoring. So it'll actually be less than that.

I think every day how I should start packing crap up to move, then I realize that Rhi and I basically only have our essentials at this house. What I seriously need to do is throw out half the crap I have in storage. But that seems like a huge undertaking, so I'm being a procrastinator.

I feel like this blog seems whiny, and I don't mean for it to. I really do have a pretty amazing life, full of love and laughter and wonderful people and times. I'm very blessed like that. I don't, and won't, take that for granted. :)

Yawn. I'm signing off now and going to sleep for sure. Night, blog reader type people.

What a difference the years make...

2010-01-30T16:20:00.000-06:00

Mike and I split up shortly before Rhi turned one. That was just about two years ago.

I was pretty much a wreck. It was really hard to be on my own after the longest relationship I'd ever been in. And I was a stay at home mom, so I was broke, and had no income coming in. What the hell was I going to do? Add to that the monstrosity of a home Mike and I were buying. It was insane, and needed a billion pounds of work. Work I for sure COULD NOT do on my own. Work that would cost me a ton of money to contract out.

Add to that the fact that I had, at the time, Mike's horrible truck, a gas guzzler with a leaking brake line. Oh, and did I mention a baby? "Leaking brake fluid line" and "baby" are not two things you want to put together, for sure.

And even once I had a job and car and such, things were hard. Mike and I weren't the nicest to each other at first, for obvious reasons. Our relationship has evolved a ton since then, but, at first...jeez. It was wretched. We couldn't have a civil conversation. And we got back together a few times, just to break up again.

The end of a marriage is a gut wrenching thing. Even if you know it's not working, even if you know it can't work...it's heartbreaking, and horrifying, and terrible, and a million more adjectives, not one of them good. I never felt like more of a failure, like more of a terrible person, mother...

I'm very glad to be done with that part. It's not something I'll ever forget, though. Even thinking about that time can bring me to tears.

Luckily, like I said, things evened out. Luckily, because I know tons of people whose relationships never did, who still deal with an ex who brings them strife or pain. Mike and I, I can honestly say, attempt to treat each other with tons of respect and try to help each other in whatever capacity that we can.

Anyways.

Back after we'd first broken up, I remember telling a friend that I was sad because I really wanted another child. And I was certain that now, I wasn't going to have one. It broke my heart. You see, I determined long ago that thirty was my personal baby cutoff. Some women's biological clocks start then...mine was over at that time. The end. After thirty, my uterus, I decided was closed for business. And I was certainly not going to find someone to spend forever with by the age of thirty. Not when I was just now freshly split at 26. (Or 25. I honestly can't remember if it was before or after my birthday.)

So I dated...a lot. And it was frustrating, as dating always is. Fun, sometimes, but frustrating.

Enter Shane.

If you gave me a pen and paper two years ago and made me write a list of the way I assumed my boyfriend would be, I assure you, it would not have added up to a profile of Shane. Shane and I are vastly different people in a lot of ways. I'm the emotional, passionate one - he's the logical, analytical one. I am quick to do something once I've decided I want to and he'll procrastinate even if he KNOWS he has to do something. We can't even agree on a damn radio station. I love pop and he...doesn't. I love seafood, and vegetables. And mushrooms, yum! He loathes all of those things. And, dear god, I could write a much longer list. It's got the makings of a situation comedy written all over it, let me tell ya.

And, yet, here we are. We're happy, despite the fact that I'm not sure we can ever see eye to eye on lots of stuff that I'd once thought was important. And, against my own odds, we're having that second child that I wanted but was sure I'd never have.

Life's pretty crazy sometimes.

Pat Robertson and Haiti

2010-01-13T16:28:00.000-06:00

So unless you live under a rock, you know about the earthquake-torn Haiti (and hopefully a few ways to help, should you be so inclined.) But you may not yet have heard all about why it happened. I mean, I totally just thought it was a terrible natural disaster. Thank dear baby Jesus that Pat Robertson was there to correct us all.

Pat Robertson, for those of you lucky enough to not know, is a televangelist and the host of the 700 Club. He also once ran for President, and thank the lord, didn't win, and has famously said things like 9/11 was God punishing us for gays, lesbians, abortions, et cetera. He's the real epitome of a good Christian, let me tell ya. (/sarcasm) Anyhoo, Pat Robertson wants you to know that Haiti made a pact with the devil, and now God is punishing them. This pact apparently took place during the time of "Napoleon the third and whatever"(gotta love Robertson's amazing grasp of history there) and only now is God retaliating. Little late, isn't it, big guy? Were you waiting for the element of surprise?

Seriously, though. What happened in Haiti was a disaster and a tragedy, but one of very natural origins, not a godly punishment dolled out for something that happened in a (skewed) historical timeline. And it's incredibly distasteful and disgusting that someone who claims to be a Christian would be being such a douche about it.

What's more disgusting, though, is that you know people buy what he's selling. Think about it. The man didn't become what he is because no one listens to his nonsense. This is the truly horrifying thing about religion. (Please note: in the next two sentences, if I just offended you by calling religion horrifying, you will understand what I mean and probably forgive me.) Religion can be twisted by charismatic yet evil people like Robertson to make those who are easily led rush into blind hatred. Obviously not all religions or religious people do this - I saw several pastors on Twitter emphatically stating that they disagree completely. But there are a lot of easily manipulated people out there. and people who have agendas full of hatred like Robertson can and do seduce a lot of them. It's scary and bad.I sincerely believe that if the end of the world happens by the hands of humans, it has a strong chance of being because of some horrible person manipulating generally good teachings (because most of the teachings of most religions are generally good, decent ones) into something awful and convincing others to go with it.

Sad.

For Serious?!?

2010-01-08T15:46:00.000-06:00

Did you know that there are people who believe that HIV doesn't cause AIDS?

I'm quite literally shocked by this.

These people, often called HIV deniers or AIDS deniers, have a couple of trains of thought. Some completely deny that HIV even exists, while others attest that it's a harmless passenger virus that doesn't cause AIDS. If they do believe AIDS exists, they attribute it to a multitude of non-HIV things, like the drugs given to HIV patients to keep them alive longer.

What's terrifying about this is that there's a small minority of idiots actually making people think that taking HIV meds is a bad idea. So there are earlier deaths resulting from that. Plus, they don't think HIV is passed sexually, so it's no big deal to them for someone infected with HIV to have unsafe sex with someone who doesn't. The social irresponsibility of that is simply disgusting. And possibly worst of all is that these people, if made pregnant, don't think it's necessary to take drugs to keep their fetus from getting HIV. Quick fact: if given the right medications during pregnancy and if the mother abstains from breastfeeding, the fetus has a 1% chance of becoming HIV positive. 1%. Great odds. But HIV deniers have no qualms about not taking those medications, and usually do breastfeed.

As a parent, I find that criminal.

When you're pregnant, you have an inherent responsibility to that fetus. You're growing a life. Your needs and wants and lofty ideals come in second to the child you are responsible for. The end. It's why, even though I might want a margarita like a man on the Sahara wants water, I don't drink one. It's why people quit smoking. It's why people who are sure they want intervention-free home births turn to regular obs when they have pregnancy complications. Because ideals aren't as important as the child you're entrusted with.

Stupid people have always upset me. Dangerously stupid people like this terrify me with the potential for harm that they have.

Vaccination Nation

2010-01-06T17:46:00.000-06:00

(The title is only because when it popped into my head, I internally snicked to myself and thought, 'Heh, like conjunction junction.' How easily amused am I?)

When I first had my daughter, I wasn't sure if I would vaccinate her. The anti-vax movement had been particularly vocal right before her first vaccines were set to be administered, and I spent countless days, during her naptimes, not doing the sensible thing and sleeping or doing the housework that I was oh-so-behind on, but studying vaccines. I called my father, hysterical, crying, freaking out, worried that, either way, I was dooming my kid to something awful happening.

I couldn't, in all of my research, find any good, controlled evidence that vaccines did terrible things to kids. So, I sucked it up, and I let Rhiannon get those first shots. And I watched her like a hawk. She slept ten minutes later than normal - was that an adverse reaction? Yet as paranoid as I was, doomsday never happened. Rhi was fine...healthy, happy, growing, whip smart. I breathed a little easier. Then came the MMR vax, and I panicked once more. People I knew called this the autism shot, anti-vax sites, blogs, et cetera linked this shot, and especially the mercury in it, to autism. I was gripped with horrible fear. I researched, and things were so confusing. The link to autism seemed to not be factual, but anti-vax stuff was so emotional and seemed convincing, full of horror stories and anecdotes. I went into Rhi's doctor's appointment totally unsure what I would do. So I sat down with her doctor, and I blurted out all of my fears. He listened, and didn't condescend, which is part of why he's so amazing. He assured me that thimerosal had been removed from vaccines years ago, that it wasn't ever even in MMR, and that studies of it even showed that thimerosal didn't adversely effect anyone. It wasn't taken out because of proof, but because a "better safe than sorry" approach was taken. He wemt on to explain that he had had a couple of patients with measles that had had very serious complications from it. He went on to say, "I only recommend for my patients what I would feel comfortable doing with m y own child. If Rhiannon was my daughter, I would give her this vaccine without a moment's worry." He also explained a little bit about herd immunity, and how important it was.

So she got the vaccine. I'd be lying if I said I didn't still worry. But the sky didn't fall.

Many, many parents are opting out of vaccines for reasons that aren't based in fact. There's a lot, lot, lot of misconception out there. Luckily, since I had Rhi, people have made information much more easily accessible. I absolutely love the site antiantivax.flurf.net (excuse the lack of link, I wrote this on my phone.) It's got a lot of information, presented very plainly, with lots of easily accessible citations, and a plethora of links
explaining things like herd immunity, why the vax schedule is the way it is, et cetera. And USA Today put out a great article yesterday about the effects of lowered herd immunity. Like I said, linking is damn near impossible from my phone, but if you Google the headline "Missed Vaccines Weaken Herd Immunity in Children" you will almost certainly find it. Anyone with vaccines concerns should look at those for a really realistic viewpoint.

I will absolutely vaccinate our newest daughter. Not only that, but those in the closest contact with her will get whooping cough boosters to ensure that we don't unwittingly bring home something detrimental to her. I don't have the hesitation I had with Rhi at all. Sure, I'll still watch carefully for reactions...nothing in life is 100% safe, after all. But there's a wealth of information showing that most vaccines fall firmly into the category of reasonable risk.

7:25 am

2009-12-13T06:49:00.000-06:00

I'm not giving a back story on why I'm upset here. Reading this, you'll probably glean an idea, but not a really detailed one, because I really just need to type as therapy and don't want to cause unnecessary drama. So if this confuses anyone who reads it, I'm really sorry. Oh, and I couldn't think of a good title, hence the lame one, lol.

I don't actually like everyone that I meet. I know, gasp of shock, right? Lol. I don't usually bother actively disliking them, though. While I do have a wretched temper, something someone says or does might momentarily flare it, I might rant to someone, (usually Amanda. Shane is awful to rant to because he is always all logical, and, let's face it, emotions aren't the most logical of things) and then I give it no thought. I don't hold grudges usually, unless someone has just deeply, deeply offended me. Sure, I may recall something they once did to annoy me when I'm annoyed at them again, but it's not hovering in my brain as a list of vendettas or anything. I think most people are probably the same way as me.

Anyways, so, even if I don't like someone, I don't make it a huge issue. It's not usually worth it to be so petty, especially since I live in a fairly small town. Ever played six degrees of separation? Pretty easy here where most of the locals seem to be related and lines of friendship and relationships get oh-so-complex. And, save that, I admit that sometimes, I'm totally wrong about someone. I have friends that, at first, I didn't like for some reason, that I now think are awesome and feel ridiculous for disliking. I have no problem copping to it when I've misjudged people, either. Nor do I mind being proven wrong about such things. At heart, I really like to see the good in people. I am not a person who feeds off drama and discontentment.

I really don't like being unfairly labeled as someone who would be bitchy and petty and overly dramatic, though. I stupidly let that stuff get to me, because I think I have way, way more class than that. So instead of being like my friend Susie, who'd shrug it off (probably by saying, "What a bitch. Hope they get kicked in the junk." lol) or a number of other friends who'd just think "I didn't like that bitch anyways, and I was obviously right," I take it to heart. And I dwell on it. Not because it's their opinion that matters - I really am not horribly worried what most people think of me - but because *I* don't want to be that petty person. So I scrutinize myself to see why someone would think that, and, moreso, why they would vocalize a thought like that, that seems so out of left field to me. And I dwell, because I convince myself that somehow, *I* did something to make said person think that way. I've been doing that, with this unnamed situation, for the past twenty four hours. But I don't think I want to bother anymore. I've gone over it, and I honestly can't see anything that I've done that would justify the implication of me as that type of insensitive person. Not everyone is going to realize the type of person I am, and I can't let other people being inaccurate and disrespectful bother me this much. So I'm just letting it go. Also, I'm going to try to stop beating myself up over these types of things. If I did something wrong, I'll apologize and go on my way, but if I didn't, I'm not going to be overly worried about it.

insert title here

2009-12-08T17:18:00.000-06:00

To My Friends,

I am still the same person. I have not become a Stepfordian wife shell carrying a baby with no fun or interesting-ness left. Please remember that.

I talk about being pregnant. I do. It's my last kid, my last experience, and I'm enjoying it. I don't, and won't, apologize for that. I've listened to you all blather on about new jobs and boyfriends...it's the same dame, in essence. But my life doesn't center 100% around my pregnancy, nor have I stopped being the same person I always was. My currently occupied uterus doesn't make me less Star. I'm not barefoot in a kitchen eating ice cream and pickles bitching about cankles or something. I'm not running around, trying to convert people to a state of knocked-up-ness because it's just so awesome. Please. I think we all know I'm an attention whore, and, frankly, you'd just be stealing away time that should be spent being in awe of *my* fetus, duh. ;p

The only thing I can't do, in my current state, is drink a bunch. Oh, and eat sushi. Seriously, I could more understand the not eating sushi as friendship death than drinking, though. Sushi is some good shit, yo. But everyone knows I act like a moron with or without a high blood alcohol content. Just ask Shane, Liss, or Amanda...they can for sure attest to that!

Basically, what I'm getting at here is that, since I became pregnant, some of you barely speak to me. And it sucks. If it were reversed, I wouldn't ignore you. So don't do that to me. Especially since I'm overly hormonal. Jesus, that's a recipe for disaster. Do you *want* some lame voicemail after some lame Hallmark card about friendship makes me remember that we used to have one? Pfft. Hell no you don't.

And if you're mad about the sushi, let's go to a Hibachi grill. Compromise rocks!

Love,
Star

30 things to do before I'm 30

2009-11-29T17:05:00.000-06:00

I stole this from my friend Sara at the Handy Hooker blog. You should check her out, she's pretty awesome.

Ok, pimpage over.

I turn 28 in a few months. The normal thing to do would be to do a "27 to do before I'm 28." But a)I'm pregnant, ruling out a few things and b)I have some things that are going to need to take more than like 3 months to do. So here goes...

1)Find some ways to cook vegetables that we can all agree on
-And by we, I mean Shane. Rhi will eat just about any veggie you put in front of her. Ditto for me. Shane, however, loathes everything but green beans, potatoes, raw carrots, and corn. Do you know how tedious that gets? Very, is the answer. I'm determined to find some way to prepare more things so he will actually eat them.

2)Volunteer somewhere
-I want to find some kind of good, local organization to do volunteer work for. I'm not sure what I want to do, or where I want to work...I just want to be sure that they reflect the same ideals that I have.

3)Have a home that uses more sustainable energy sources
-I want a cob house. I don't think that's in the cards for the next twoish years, because I think we want to wait to build until I get out of college and we live somewhere that we want to stay for a long time (hint:not this state.) But once we move, we won't be using gas at all. Shane's all about switching to solar, and I'd be great with that.

4)Go to one of the following places: Spain, Italy, Bali, the Caymans
-Because I want to.

5)Get a tummy tuck
-This is my last kid, and I lost a crapload of weight. I think after I'm back to the weight I want to be, I deserve to have a cosmetic procedure to give me a flat stomach. It's pretty vain and everything, but I feel like it would be a great reward for my hard work.

6)Have a weekly family night where we do something fun
-I really hate how disconnected a lot of people are from their children and partners. I don't want to be that family. I want to be the happy, involved family. So whether we're playing board games or going to Chuck E. Cheese, or baking cookies, I want a night of togetherness.

7)Eat better foods
-We mostly eat pretty healthy, at least compared to the normal American diet of processed crap. But I'd really like to eat even less processed foods, more organics...have a garden, where we grow our own vegetables and herbs...maybe, since we'll be living in the middle of farms, get more local meat from neighbors.

8)Completely stop shopping at places like WalMart
-It's a necessary evil sometimes here. I really want to shop at less chain stores and more locally owned small businesses, though.

9)Go back to school
-This one should happen by next fall at the latest.

10)Have a date night at least bi-weekly
-Remember what I said about families? Well, sometimes, even in families that do all that, the parents totally lose the spark to their relationship and just become friends and partners. If I just wanted a friend and partner, I'd raise my kids with another chick and be celibate, lol.

11)Be a better housekeeper
-While my house is never, like, going to evoke feelings of disgust in anyone, the perils of having a small child mean that it's almost always in a state of disarray to some extent. I really want to improve that.

12)Have a better wardrobe
-I buy tons of adorable things that I love, usually at places like Goodwill. But then somehow they get lost, or the kid or I spill on them, or they don't quite go with anything else, or they aren't quite appropriate for every day. I want to invest in a wardrobe that has nice, well-tailored every day pieces, stuff for going out, et cetera, that's very washable and wearable. And kid friendly, lol.

13)Learn a foreign language
-I'm not even sure which one. But a foreign language.

14)Learn to actually swim
-I had lessons, I can do a decent approximation, but I'd like to be able to have the right form.

15)Learn to do some form of yoga that I actually like
-Man, I have a hard time with yoga. Maybe I've just watched the wrong dvds or something, because I can't really get down with it. I'd like to take a class or something with a really good teacher to see if maybe I can learn to not just think it's horribly boring most of the time.

16)Have a well-decorated home
-You know how you go into some houses and you just marvel at how beautifully put together they are? Like, maybe not Martha Stuart living, a little more touchable than that, but a place that's just so warm and inviting? And you go back to your house and are let down at how not like that your home is? I want to have that house. I can't *here*, because it's a rental, but when we move...

17)Have a dishwasher
-The worst chore on Earth is handwashing dishes. I'll go extra green on everything else, but, man, I have to have a dishwasher. One kid and two adults produce so damn many dishes I can't keep up. Imagine two kids, two adults. Ugh.

18)Start composting
-We've started recycling a lot more lately, and I'm already amazed at the reduction in normal household trash. I think composting would really add to that, too.

19)Get back to bellydance classes
-I love them, and I haven't been for a long time, because of general brokeness and just not having the time. But I'm going to make the damn time for it. In a twenty four hour day, I can surely take one of those hours once a week for myself.

20)Keep in better touch with my friends, nearby and far away
-I'm bad at keeping in touch with people, but then I get really sad that I lose touch with friends. So I'm going to try to do better.

21)Get more involved with issues I care about
-I do more than most people as far as this is concerned, I think, but I'd like to do even more.

22)Find a job where I'm happy at least 85% of the time
-I know no job will ever be something that I love 100% of the time. But lately my job's been pretty monotonous and I feel way less inspired than I did before. I love teaching the kids, I love feeling like I make a difference in that way, but I feel, lately, like nothing we do is good enough for the parents. And it sucks, because I genuinely care about those children, their care, and what they're learning. But it's hard to not just want to say screw it when you have people who are always dissatisfied with what you do. I could take it every once in awhile, but constantly...yeah. Worst is the fact that usually the parents who are complaining are the ones who we seriously need cooperation from, because their kids need extra help or attention. But we can't get it because we're too busy hearing how everything is our fault. So by the time I'm thirty, even though I won't be out of school yet or subsequently have my career going, I want a job that's better than this.

23) Be a better cook
-I get bored, I stop paying attention, I burn things. Or over-cook them, or whatever. It's less than awesome.

24) Spend a little extra money to buy products I really like.
-I wind up fretting over the extra cost, but, man, on some things, the expense is worth it. While I don't always agree that you get what you pay for, it's true in a few cases, and worth the extra.

25) Spend less on stupid things to make up for #24
-I really do buy stuff I don't need way too often. That needs to change.

26) Go the the chiropractor more
-It was worth the money the last time I went, for reals. I need to actually keep up on it.

27) Drink more water
-I really just don't like the taste. But it's the best thing to drink, really...good for you, not full of empty calories. I can tolerate it with lemon. So I need to make it a habit.

28) Grow my damn hair out
-It goes a little something like this. I start to grow my hair. I get bored. I experiment with colors. I experiment with styles. Eventually, I hack it off out of total boredom, and then I whine because I don't have the face for short hair, and I want it long again. This, I know, is going to be especially prone to happening after I have this baby when my hair is falling out and stuff. So, future Star, DON'T CUT YOUR HAIR!!! DON'T!!! AFTER THE BABY, JUST PUT IT UP UNTIL IT STOPS FALLING OUT!!!!!

29) Spend more time being actively spiritual
-I used to do this all the time. And while I still take my spirituality very, very seriously, I haven't been able to do the things I normally would have. And I need to, without being more spiritual, I feel very much like I'm not quite myself, like I'm detached from God, so to speak. And that sucks.

30) Work on controlling my temper
-I can be a little (overly) emotional sometimes. And I can be a bitch on wheels when I'm angry. I've made huge, huge improvements there, but sometimes I still fly off the handle. So I'm going to try to communicate better and yell less, I guess. lol.

A Baby Blog

2009-11-27T20:11:00.000-06:00

Because you all have nothing better to do than read two of my blog posts in one day. Or something.

I'm almost 17 weeks pregnant, which is crazy, because I seriously felt like I *just* wrote the blog announcing my pregnancy, like, yesterday. This pregnancy has been so different than it was with Rhi. First, the morning sickness...shocker there as I was almost never ill with Rhi. I think I was nauseated the first week or so with Rhi. Never strongly. Just mild queasiness. Then there was the food. OMG, you're supposed to eat a lot in your second trimester, but, in my first, I could out eat...well, everyone, I think. Lol. It was the only thing that could possibly quell my never-ending vomitousness. And the bleeding from my placenta...yeah, that was a fun adventure. Except the opposite.

But in a lot of ways, I'm more prepared for this pregnancy and this baby. For instance, I'm in way better physical shape. And despite the restrictions I do have on exercise...and I am operating under several still...I'm still keeping moderately active. I feel more prepared for labor, even though it terrifies me a little. Not the pain of it, not the contractions or the pushing, but the fact that I had a c-section on my last kid and there is a slight, but real, possibility of complications. I wonder sometimes if I should just get a second c-section. Because I know what to expect there, and everyone knows the unknown is scarier. But my c-section with Rhi was a very disappointing experience, and since I don't want more children after this, I feel like I'm cheating myself to not try.

But I'm still scared, lol.

I'm more prepared for nursing, too. I know that my milk won't come in instantly. I know how to latch the baby on in various ways now. I know where I can go for help, and the people who are best and worst at supporting me. I know that the Boppy is my best friend ever, lol. I know about Fenugreek, and mother's milk teas, and where to get them. I know a beer or two can help aid milk production. And I know that there will be several exhausting growth spurts where I will feel like I have a baby constantly attached to me, but that they will end, and I will be able to handle it. And I know how to supplement and still go back to nursing. I have more confidence in breastfeeding in general. Luckily, as with Rhi, I have a partner who is utterly supportive of nursing, too, which I know from experience can be the make or break of your nursing relationship.

I'm doing a few things differently, though, based upon knowledge I've gleaned since my first child. First of all, we're cloth diapering. It's something I wanted to do with Rhi, but a bunch of factors contributed to it just not panning out. So this time, I'm doing it. I'm excited and a little nervous about it, because, seriously, it's pretty different than disposables. But I am really lucky to have a fantastic support network of CDing moms that I know I can ask for help. Secondly, if this is a boy, I'm not circumcising him. It was something I totally would have done if Rhi had been a boy, but I don't really see a necessity for anymore. It's so purely cosmetic that I'm just not interested. If my kid doesn't want a foreskin later, he's welcome to have it removed. I just don't feel like I need to make that choice for him. If it's a him. And, third, I'm pretty sure I'm saying screw the crib and just getting a co-sleeper. I'm not totally comfortable with an actual family bed...I'm a paranoid freak, and even now, if Rhi sleeps with me, I sleep way less soundly because I'm worried I'll accidentally smother her or something. So I can't see ever having a decent night's sleep in a family bed. But when Rhi was tiny, it was such a pain in the ass to have her in a bassinet across the room. It was soooo much easier when the crib was right next to my bed, highest level, with the side down. I'd pull her over, nurse her back to sleep, put her back, and drift back off. A co-sleeper would allow the new baby its own space and still have the convenience of the crib set up. More, actually. And since I still have Rhiannon's old crib, when the baby gets bigger, it can graduate to that if need be.

We find out in just a few weeks, by the way, what this baby is. So yay to that! We have a couple of names, but they're still tentative because Shane won't fully confirm or deny them. He has this notion that the baby will pop out looking like a certain name. I keep telling him that that's silly, that babies all look like semi-ugly (but gorgeous to those who love them) boiled chickens/grumpy old men. He has a hard time believing me though, lol.

The War on Christmas is a joke

2009-11-27T14:10:00.001-06:00

I feel like I re-write a similar blog to this every year. But every year, I get the urge to write it, usually sparked by some stupid news story, generally from Fox, or a stupid social networking post, or a bumper sticker. So here I go again. I have new readers, so hopefully this won't feel so played out to you all. ;)

It's the holiday season. It's a season that I love, love, love. It's a season of family, and friends, and giving, and counting your blessings. For me, that totally overshadows most of the annoying things, like spending craploads of money, and fruit cake, and getting gifts from people you totally forgot to buy for.

But one thing always irritates me. The "War on Christmas" propaganda.

It's sensationalized media bullshit.

Of all of the people who read my blog, who is seriously, truly, absolutely offended by hearing or reading Season's Greetings or Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas? Really, now. How many of you are just ready to throw down and stop shopping places or talking to people until YOUR particular secular holiday is recognized loudly and obviously?

And why?

Look, I get that there are overly liberal idiots who would like everything in the public eye to be completely sterilized of anything hinting at religion. It's ridiculous, I give you that. Whining about town Christmas decorations or singing Christmas carols in school is pretty lame. But whining if a Hanukkah or Kwanzaa song is thrown in there, too, is just as lame.

And having a fit that stores...stores that cater to lots of people, people who are NOT Christian in persuasion and who, in fact, celebrate holidays that predate Christmas (see here Hanukkah and Yule, to start. Kwanzaa is debatable, and, honestly, I'm not well versed enough in that particular holiday to accurately decide whether it is or not) say Season's Greetings or Happy Holidays to cover all their customers...well, that's pretty lame, too.

And if you're a true Christmas purist, you should probably know that a ton of Christmas traditions started as pagan ones. Look here for a very, very brief summary on that. But certainly, if the words, "Happy Holidays" offend you, take down your tree and stop that caroling, quick!

If you are a Christian, certainly take time to "put Christ back in (your) Christmas." I'm all for people recognising that the spirit of all the holidays at this time of the year is about way, way more than getting gifts. I think more people should spend time reflecting upon that, and I totally commend you if you do so. Just don't freak out and believe the hype that everyone on Earth is trying to take Jesus away from you. It's not true. Without sensationalized crap from the likes Bill O'Reilly and such, I think we would all be able to have a more tolerant, co-existing holiday season.

Oh noes!!!! Gay marriage will ruin everything!!!!!

2009-11-05T17:16:00.000-06:00

Here are the reasons I get against gay marriage and why I think they re utterly absurd:

Gays are unnatural.
Seriously? First of all, homosexual behavior has been recorded...and not always admonished...throughout the ages. And, what, exactly, is unnatural? Gay men do it in the ass. So do many straight people I know. Many, many straight people. Hell, some straight guys even get off on having things in their ass. True story, I have at least three friends whose significant others love that shit. And lesbians? They use dildos, fingers, tongues....hmmmm, just like straight people! In fact, men, if you're NOT using your mouth on your woman, you should maybe think about how only 30% of women can climax from vaginal penetration. Just saying.

Gay marriage can't produce children, which is the point of marriage, after all.
Yeah? Maybe you should tell childless couples that. Some people want nothing to do with procreation. And some can't have children. Should they be forced to divorce? Didn't think so. And why does marriage always have to produce kids? We're overpopulated, folks. We don't need any help here. Gay people not having kids may be keeping us from running out of room to move, lol. And can't gay people adopt? Which leads me to....

Gay couples, if given children, will ruin the child's life, and also, turn them gay.
No, they won't. Sorry. First of all, in a society where most people only want to adopt non-minority babies with no health or mental issues, we should be applauding anyone who will provide for a child that isn't "perfect." Single people who can afford it, gay people...anyone who is proven to be fit (and sexual orientation should have NOTHING to do with that unless there is some sort of warranted concern that the individual could be a child molester or something. And straight people are just as likely to be fucked up, disgusting people like that as gay people are. That's why there are processes to go through before you adopt. To screen out those people.) As far as raising gay kids, there's simply no correlation. Straight parents produce gay kids, gay people can raise straight kids. It's not sociological. And ruining the kid's life? Pffft. Kids get teased for anything anyone can tease them for. Unless every parent on Earth models themselves into a model with just enough intelligence and a just nice enough home, they will, at some point, be a source of embarrassment to their child. And, honestly, probably even then.

It will RUIN the SANCTITY of MARRIAGE!!!!
Isn't that kind of a moot point by now?

What's the divorce rate now? One in every three marriages? And let's look at other shining examples of how sanctified marriage is. Britney Spears got hitched in Vegas for fifty five hours as essentially, a drunken joke. People go on TV to marry millionaires that they've known eleven seconds. In non-public marriages, adultery happens pretty regularly. Yup, sure seems to me like straight people are doing an AWESOME job with the whole marriage thing. Awesome. Yet, these people screwing with the sanctity of marriage...we let them get married and even REmarry. Whaaaaaat????

Gay marriage will make people gay.
This one is right. The other day, a lesbian was near me, and I suddenly had the urge to go down on a chick.

Get real.

Gay people being married won't make your wife suddenly want her aerobics instructor. It won't make your husband start hitting on the postman. Straight people will stay straight, gay people will stay gay. And if you're bi, that won't change, either.

People will want to marry animals, children...it'll be a gateway to horrible behavior!
No, it won't.

Any fool gets that marriage is two consenting adult humans. Because it's a CONTRACT. Minorities and animals can't be contractually bound. That's not going to change. It's common sense. It's like the gateway drug argument. Know what? In my day, waaaayyyyy before kids and real adulthood, I smoked a fuck of a lot of pot. Like, a LOT. Never did anything else. Because weed is not a gateway drug. Just like gay marriage is not a gateway to anarchy.

Kids need male and female role models. Gay marriage will confuse them!
Kids do need male and female role models. But just like in single parent households, someone else...a relative, neighbor, or teacher, perhaps....becomes that role model. And it won't confuse kids. Kids are smart, and they have no preconceived notions of things like adults do. So they're totally fine with pretty much anything you explain to them. It just requires that explanation. But once they have it, their natural open mindedness makes everything work just fine.

Gay marriage will change society!
Really?

Gay couples already exist. They're here, they're queer, you should be over it. It's not like homosexuality is a closely guarded secret.

My religion prohibits gay marriage.
Your religion doesn't have a lock on marriage.

People in places that have never heard of your God have hitched themselves to each other. Straight atheists get married, straight pagans get married, straight agnostics get married. Since this country is not a theocracy, you have no leg to stand on, demanding that people can't get married because of your God. But, just for fun, know what else people once said was against God? Giving blacks equal rights, giving women equal rights, allowing interracial marriage, ending segregation. Seems to me "it's against God" is an awfully easy thing to say to camouflage prejudice.

Individual churches should do as they see fit. But legislation shouldn't be based on that.

Civil unions are JUST AS GOOD as gay marriage.
Civil unions are a fancy way of segregating gay marriage from regular marriage. Which is insulting and disgusting. It's the SAME mindset as separate but equal black schools, stores, et cetera. Segregation ending for black people seemed to some like the end of the world. It hasn't caused the Apocalypse. Neither will this, I assure you.

I'd also like to point out, as a side note, that less people are bothering to get married. Places where gay marriage is allowed have seen an economic boost in the wedding profession.

And, finally, the whole "states should decide" argument.

States have historically never ever been effective in deciding civil rights issues. Ending of slavery, equal rights for women, desegregation, equal rights for minorities...none of those really took off on a state level. It required federal legislation. Know why? Because the majority of Americans are too busy freaking out over idiotic things like I listed above to think, "Well, they're people in love. Some marriages will work, some won't, but whether I agree with it or not, it's pretty much a basic American right to get married. (Pursuit of happiness, anyone?) They're adults, and whether I have prejudices there or not, it's not my call. If it's against my God, He'll deal with it with them. I need to worry about me."

This weekend

2009-10-12T16:30:00.000-05:00

This weekend was my anniversary. Shane and I have been together for a whole year now. Doesn't seem like a lot when you realize we totally put the cart before the horse and are having a baby and all that, but it's long for me. Not my longest relationship ever or anything, but long.

We had a pretty wonderful weekend, despite the fact that I was horribly sick for part of it.

I won't write a fawning, I love him so much type of blog, because, well, I've done it before and he already knows it anyways. :) But I will say these few things:

1) Shane, the week we were broken up was the most awful week ever, so let's never, ever do that again. I obviously love you, because I felt totally lost without you.

2) You can't help but adore the man who looks at you lying in bed, half asleep watching him play video games with awful hair and a red nose from sneezing your face off, and says, with total sincerity, "God, you're so beautiful."

I love you, Shane. Here's to more years together. Like a billion.

Dear Mr. President:

2009-10-09T14:13:00.000-05:00

First of all, congratulations on your Nobel Peace Prize. Pretty big honor, especially to have attained in nine months in office.

Most of America, and, let's face it, probably the rest of the world is a little dubious as to whether you deserve this. Hell, YOU'RE probably wondering, "How the fuck did I pull this off?!? Seriously?!?!?"

Well, Mr. President, even though your track record of, say, fulfilling your campaign promises is still kinda...nonexistent...you HAVE made some important changes.

You're working pretty hard on changing the tone we have been using towards the Muslim world, and that's pretty awesome. God knows, Bush did literally nothing to try to reach out to the Muslim world, instead doing, well, a lot to keep us really disliked by the people of the rest of the world in general. (And, non-President types reading this: Bush sucked at diplomacy. Not everything he did was bad, but, Jesus, he just didn't do the diplomatic thing well AT ALL. Grow up, realize we all have weaknesses and that that is one of his, and save your hysterical whining about how unfair I am for somewhere else [like your head, not my comment box] so I don't have to read it. Unless you have some irrefutable, non partisan proof to show me otherwise, and then I will humbly eat crow. But that's not gonna happen, I wager.)

Iran, especially, is responding to us in a better way than they have in a long time. Yes, the leader is still a nutcase. He is. But I've always thought of him as a child throwing a huge tantrum on the floor of the World. Kicking, screaming, threatening. Well, Obama, you've been willing to treat him differently. Instead of the angry parent spanking the country (to continue my metaphor here) for discipline, you reached out to them, and talked to them. You've even made an open video to Iran and its people on their new year (check it here.) I assure you, with kids, this gets better results. It seems to with Iranian leaders, too. Click here for something on that (it's an opinion piece, but it isn't super pro-Obama, and it explains things fairly well.)

In fact, we're the most admired country in polls, better than our 7th place prior. So even if not everyone at home is thrilled with you, Mr. President, again, our foreign affairs are doing pretty well.

But you've got a long way to go, baby.

I'm hoping that you step up now and earn this prize. That you:
*Close Guantanamo Bay
Remember how to pledged to do this, Mr. President? The time has come.
*Work on exiting Iraq
Listen, I get it. You can't just pull everyone from the country just because. We went in there, and even though you and I both disagreed with doing it, we have to finish what we started, in that we have to render the country able to handle itself. But let's get an exit strategy going. Maybe work on strengthening the Iraqi government so that they can take over? But let's not keep just going along with all this. You have brilliant military people at your disposal. Meet with them.
*Fix Afghanistan
Remember? Our first war? It's becoming a big war albatross. Those brilliant military minds? Keep utilizing them, straighten this shit out.
*Keep working on climate issues
Many other countries think we're asses for being so blind about the issues with the Earth as a whole. Hell, I bet someone reading this blog is thinking about how further studies are needed, we're just in a normal pattern, et cetera. We're not. We need to green our country, and the planet as a whole.
*Forget mending fences with jaded Republicans
They hate you simply because you're liked. You can't win them all, Mr. President. So, reach out to...and include...Republicans who can actually bother to think for themselves and compromise. And fuck the rest. They're unchangeable. I give you credit, you've tried pretty hard to be a people pleaser in that respect. But people who are going to continually be petty and unhappy just because their dude didn't win won't give you an inch. See them as the children they are, and learn to only deal with adults.

Just some suggestions, Mr. President. Because, seriously, you have three more years, and this is one of your few laurels. Instead of resting, show everyone that - fuck yeah, you deserve this shit. Convince us all. I'm rooting for you.

Sincerely,
Star

Oink, oink

2009-10-07T17:50:00.000-05:00

No, it's not another fat blog, promise.

It's a little worse.

I have officially been exposed to swine flu. Or H1N1 as the pc people call it nowadays.

Two confirmed cases at my work. Not in my class, but still kids I'm regularly around. Plus, we share teachers with that room. So, pretty scary.

My doctor put me on Tamiflu as a preventative measure yesterday. I did a lot of soul searching and research before popping the first pill of ten last night. I'm uncertain about how safe it is still, and I loathe taking drugs while pregnant, but let's look at it logically. I'm pregnant. I'm asthmatic. last time I had a serious bout of flu, it turned to pneumonia. Which is horrible if you're pregnant.

So I'm doing a lot of praying right now that this was the best choice, knowing that I'm kind of between a rock and a hard place. Luckily, the vaccine - which I am getting - will be out by the end of this month, and my ob/gyn and the local health dept. are both stocking the thimerosal free version. So this Tamiflu should hopefully carry me through til then. Mostly.

Still nervous. But, luckily, I've had no reaction at all to the Tamiflu. Which is good, at least in that it often makes people vomit profusely, which wouldn't be stellar for the baby.

I'm crossing everything possible that this all turns out ok...

Fat and Pregnant...

2009-10-05T17:23:00.000-05:00

You're not supposed to freak out about your weight while pregnant. I mean, you're not supposed to be insane, but pregnant chicks gain weight.

But I *am* freaking out.

Those of you who know me know that went from a size 24, 280 pound chick after Rhi was born to a size 6, 140 pound chick in about two years. I did it with Weight Watchers and a bunch of exercise, and I'm very very proud of it.

But losing all that weight does something to you. If I gained over, say 2-3 pounds, I freaked out a little. I *had* to get back down. Immediately. So this pregnancy is, well, difficult. To say the least.

I've gained, at last count (read as "from when I weighed myself this morning." But I was wearing clothes and it was after I ate, so it's not totally accurate), about seven pounds. Not good for a first trimester, but not the worst ever, since I have all of a week of two left to trimester two. But I'm nervous about it nonetheless. I don't want to gain a billion pounds with this baby and spend another two years taking it off. I'm freaked out by the thought of having to restart WW, and recount points, and do all that crap. And it's hard for me to see myself not gaining a bunch more weight with this pregnancy, due to a few factors. One, I'm *always* hungry. Think of how you feel after you haven't eaten for a long time, that ravenous, almost puking from hunger, dizzy, shaky feeling. Imagine that EVERY TWO HOURS. No joke. Also, I have morning sickness that seems to best cure itself when confronted with comfort foods, like mac and cheese, pasta, avocados, mashed potatoes, and Cheezits. None of those are at all low calorie.

And then there's the fatigue. My normal gym buff self appears to have gotten lost somewhere. I'm confronted with someone who is so tired that the gym, while a good idea theoretically, is also just not happening for. And the few times I have gone, I've been practically decimated by workouts that normally would have been NOTHING to me. Like, thirty minutes on the treadmill, once a light workout, makes me feel like I've climbed the Alps. And don't even get me started on the weights. I'm lifting at least twenty pounds less than normal and straining to do it.

On one hand, I know I need to take steps to get myself on a better track. I need to stop whining and start finding a better way of doing things. I need to get motivated to get back to the gym and suck it up. But on the other hand, I keep thinking, "Man, there's a very short time left in my first trimester. Everything is supposed to even out a little then. Maybe I should just let it ride for the time being, and start again when I feel less horrible all the time." But there's no real reason the believe that at the second trimester - POOF! - I'll be 100% again, so I should probably just get over it now.

I don't know. Any suggestions?

2009-09-30T17:26:00.000-05:00

Lots of things I want to talk about today, so this is going to be an awfully random blog.

First of all, it's Banned Books Week. You probably have seen me mention this is one of eighty other places, but it bears mention. I'm firmly against banning books, even - and especially - children's books. You don't like the idea of your kid reading "And Tango Makes Three," a book about two gay penguins who adopt a baby? Don't read it. Don't let YOUR kid read it. But don't stop everyone else from reading it, either. I think you all should take a list at the banned books from the last decade or so, by clicking right here and then here to read why some books are challenged. Then pick up a banned book or two and read them. In honor of freedom of speech. And not being terrified of anything even slightly different than you. And do what your can to support the ALA and the abffe.

Secondly, I'm doing a little better with this second kid thing. Less freaked out, for sure. I know that we'll manage somehow. Thanks to everyone who commented. I seriously appreciate the support and advice.

I do have something to ask you all. We intended to wait until the big ultrasound to tell Rhi. But the big ultrasound can take like an hour, and they actually advise that you don't bring your kid to it. We have a smaller one coming up in October, and I'll be, like, thirteen weeks then. Is that too soon to tell her? I'm concerned only because my mom lost a baby at like 23 weeks. :( And I don't think I could cope if I miscarried and had to explain to Rhi what happened. But seriously, there's a risk the entire pregnancy. And I can't wait til the baby pops out to prepare her out of my own fear. So, advice? Some of you have more than one kid. How'd you tell the youngest? Do you have any book recommendations or anything that you used to help explain?

I'm pretty over feeling sick all the time. It seems like I constantly feel nauseated and tired. I was so lucky with Rhi to not have those symptoms. This one's a whole different ballgame. And nothing's consistent. One day I want comfort foods, one day I want meat, one day something will taste amazing and the next it's wretched. And I have to eat ALL THE TIME. Seriously, a couple times, I've woken up because I was so hungry. After eating right before bed. How weird is that? Sigh. Three weeks left of trimester one. Hopefully it tapers off after that.

I have to mention here that Shane is the sweetest, most supportive man ever. He does literally everything to make sure I feel ok, to take care of me. I appreciate it so much. He's such a great boyfriend, and he's going to be a wonderful dad.

I'm sick of the comparisons of Obama to Hitler. I'm not 100% down with everything Obama does at all, but let's get over ourselves here. It was irritating when people said it about Bush, too. You know who was Hitler? Hitler. No one else. I get that America's in a shaky place. I get that the government has made almost everyone angry in some way. But calling someone Hitler won't fix it. I read a great article today that I totally agreed with on what could vastly help, though. So I'm posting a link to it here, and I sincerely hope you'll all read it. Whining does nothing to fix the American government. Getting involved could.

I've got more, but, damn, I'm nauseated. So I'm going to go drink some ginger ale and try not to puke. Great way to end, yeah? lol.

Until next time.