New Blog Entry

I finished a blog entry I started a few days ago so it got shuffled down four or five entries.

It's about the documentary "The Business of Being Born" and if you are pregnant or ever want to be you should see this film. It could have delved deeper, but it was amazing nonetheless. S and I BOTH cried our eyes out.

He's so sweet about our birth, we've discussed it many times and I've told him how frustrated I am to have not had a home birth and he always tells me how proud he is of me for carrying and birthing our boys.

But I have had the honor of watching a friend have a natural birth and it was incredible. But maybe to observers mine was too, I'll have to ask my MIL.

But anyway, Netflix that documentary NOW!!!!

Morrissey!

The raddest thing ever has happened: the boys learned to say "Morrissey!"

I acquired a new set of sheets and a comforter and put them on my bed. When I was through I thought to myself "something is missing" and I realized...it was my Morrissey pillowcase.

The first time my friend, R and I saw him play together it was at a now-defunct venue in San Francisco (that Moz himself described as a "grotty student union") and there were pillowcases for sale for $15.

They had a picture of Morrissey alongside the words 'Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me.' We both laughed but didn't.buy.the.pillowcases. Why, oh why? It was one of the biggest regrets of my life...ok, being dramatic, but SPM inspires dramatics.

A few years later R presented me with the pillowcase for Christmas? My birthday? It doesn't matter...I finally had my pillowcase.

I don't often use it, it used to hang on my wall but it collected too much dust there. I never put my head directly on M himself.

When I put the pillow out,the boys were fascinated. Papa? They said. Um. No, that is not even a remote possibility. I explained that this was Morrissey, the man we listen to in the car.
"Morri-TEA?" Moomers asked.
"Morrrr-tea" LeeLee offered.

So now when they won't nap I tell them that they are making Morrissey sad and they run right in to hug the pillow.

We wouldn't want to make Morrissey sad, now would we?

Happy Birthday, Bubba!

Today is my brother, Bubba's birthday. He is 29. I can't explain how old that makes me feel. At least my brother Joe is still a reasonable 25, but Bubba is getting as old as I am!

He lives in Dallas, so I don't get to see him but I am making a batch of cupcakes today in his honor.

And then I will eat them.

It's so hard for me to be away from my little brothers. Despite the distance, I feel really close to them.

Thanks to them I understand little boys and feel confident mothering two little guys.

Sometimes I find myself accidentally calling one of them Joe or Bubba. Moomers is usually Joe and LeeLee is Bubba. I never thought I would do things like that. My grandmother does it but she raised nine kids and has a million grandkids and great-grandkids so I can see where the confusion may come from.

The boys love Bubba. He has a big fancy truck-thing that even at two they know is super-cool. He buys them fun presents and says things like "I'm not going to hug you when you're naked. No way, dude, I don't want your balls on my leg" to LeeLee who, fresh out of the bath wants a little love from his uncle.

Happy Birthday, Bub!

Photos from the weekend

We had a pretty mellow weekend, I hung out with my friend B briefly on Saturday.

I was having a hectic morning, we woke up late and I was trying to rush to the Farmer's Market to meet up with her and her boy E before they turned into pumpkins.

S was a bit annoyed that I was running off so suddenly without breakfast and without giving him a chance to decide if he might want to go along.

By the time we got to the market, B's boy was over it and so a sudden change of locale was in order. I was a bit disappointed because I wanted to see another friend of ours, C who has a booth there.

When I got home I didn't mention that I didn't quite make it to the Farmer's Market, I didn't want to hear S's smug response to the fact that my plans didn't turn out the way I had....planned.

So what does he do? He cruises by C's house (they live like 3 blocks over) while on a bike ride with LeeLee and it's mentioned that I went thrifting instead. (I didn't even buy anything!)

I called to see when they'd be home for lunch and was met with the same smug chuckle I didn't want to hear in the first place..."You are SO BUSTED" he said.

I disagree. I was not, in fact, busted. I didn't lie, I just didn't feel like a full disclosure was in order.

But, he loves it when he thinks I'm caught red-handed so I let him have his moment of glory.

Yesterday I worked. I was in S's room chatting after he got out of the shower and the boys were in the backyard. I thought. S saw them run past his window and I ran outside after them. They had come in, unlocked and opened the garage door (I am so not happy that they learned how to do that) and went out the sliding glass door that was cracked to let Lola the cat out.

I got to the car (where they were standing) and asked them what they were doing.

"Pizza Pizza" Moomers said.
"Bye Bye" LeeLee agreed.

So off we went to get some pizza and go to the park. We had a lovely time. The boys played with a dog and LeeLee got to swing on the big-boy swings for the first time. A little boy asked S if he would push him on the swings and he said yes. The boys freaked out, especially M who called: "NO Papa! Papa! NOOOO!"

I guess they get a little jealous now. They didn't have to worry, the boys dad raced over and grabbed his son and hauled him off. I guess he didn't want strangers pushing his son. Well, maybe strangers wearing fifteen year old sleeveless t-shirts that say "Septic Death" on them...we were there to vouch for his non-creepiness but I guess that wasn't enough.

The boys got to pet a random dog and we passed a picnicking bunch of bikers whose jackets read "Guardians of the Children."

Good, I hate those bikers who don't bother to look out for children.

Ugh

We're having a no-nap day. I am exhausted and have a headache and the boys just refused to nap today. *sigh*
Their naps are my main blogging time so I'll have to wait to post a longer entry later.

The Business of Being Born

I finally received this documentary, produced by Ricki Lake from Netflix.

S and I watched it the other night. We let the boys watch part of it and they were fascinated. They grabbed their babies and kissed and "nursed" them.

I am so immersed in the ways the boys are growing and changing, it's often hard for me to remember how I felt when I was pregnant and when they were newborns. It's pretty fuzzy.
This documentary took me right back to how it felt, how raw my emotions were and how I had no idea what to expect or what would happen once I entered the hospital.

We started our pregnancy off with a midwife and was set on having a home birth or a birthing-center birth. A natural birth, regardless of where we were. This all changed when, at 12 weeks she remarked that I was measuring way too big.

I know there are instances of twins being born naturally, but here it is considered a high-risk birth so it can't be handled by a midwife. This really upset me, until at 37 weeks I suddenly developed pre-eclampsia and actually became high-risk.

I was so disappointed that I had to let go of my fantasies of beautiful, strenuous natural labor. I wanted to test myself, physically and emotionally and come out on the other side. I wanted to hold my baby without the distraction of bright lights and people wearing masks. In my own home, if possible.

But, the idea that I can not control anything, much less everything was a valuable lesson for me to learn. I have to be flexible, being a parent. I am learning as I go and I have to be able to give otherwise life becomes unbearably hard.

S was against my induction but I was tired. I was ready. I didn't want to wake up every five minutes convinced I had a contraction, waiting for my water to break or my labor to begin in earnest. I was afraid of the complications of preeclampsia for both me and the boys. I trusted my doctor wholeheartedly and didn't want to start questioning his judgment then. I mistrust the medical establishment as a whole, but this man is different. He told us in the beginning that he wouldn't bullshit us about anything and that he would go as natural as I wanted and I believed him.

My birth with him was perfect, by hospital standards. He said that our birth was as good as we could ever hope for there. The boys were healthy, born vaginally, nursed easily and went home with us two days later.

The movie completely tore me apart, though because I still mourn the experience I didn't have and am terrified at the thought of all the things that could have gone wrong.

I resisted the epidural as long as I could, I went into the hospital dilated 2cm, increased to 4cm after the pitocin drip started and dilated from 4-8 cm in one hour. I was not allowed to move out of my bed at all. I was trapped beneath these incredibly painful, intense, long contractions and writhed around screaming FUCK! every time I had one. Every time a nurse outside heard me, she popped her head in "ready for that epidural?"

Poor S was a mess, he was trying so hard to comfort me and couldn't, his blood sugar was skyrocketing and he was feeling faint. I was embarrassed at being loud and upset with myself. I kept thinking: "I thought I'd be able to handle this better."

What I didn't realize is just when you think you CAN'T do it, that's when you ARE doing it. I had the epidural and thankfully the boys came soon after with no further interventions. I let go of all expectations but really didn't want an episiotomy or a c-section unless it was an absolute emergency and by some miracle, I didn't have either one.

Once I realized I was so dilated I felt relieved and proud. Could you imagine all that pain and then...'oh, you're at 3cm!'

But I didn't ever feel like I was expending any real effort. When they told me to push I did, but didn't think I was giving it my all. I felt like I was practicing. But...out they came one after the other kicking their legs and sliding out of my body.

I didn't feel like "I FUCKING DID IT!!!" I felt like "What the fuck just happened?"

Even in the pictures, you can see how wonky and disoriented I was. I was high as a fucking kite. I was itchy and shaky and kept thinking 'I don't think I am bonding with them...I'm looking at them, but am I falling in love? Do I think they're beautiful? Am I going to vomit again?'

There is a doctor in the film that is discussing natural birth and he says something like "I call it female machoism...you're pushing the stroller three months later saying 'I did it.' " His face was smug and condescending and it infuriated me.

Yeah...I fucking did it!

How many times in your life do you get to just go for it and have this beautiful life-changing, life-defining moment? It is such an honor to birth a child and to do it in a bright room strapped to a bed isn't ideal. I'm a healthy woman and hospitals scare the shit out of me. I've never been hospitalized since birth before I gave birth. I was premature and spent a lot of time in the NICU before I could come home.

I read Ina May Gaskin's Spiritual Midwifery so many times during my pregnancy. It was second edition so it was hokey and "groovy" and old fashioned but it was empowering and helped take me, a person who had never even HEARD of the concept of home births until I was in my mid-twenties and thought initially that they were insane, to the doorstep of a midwife early in my pregnancy.

I wanted that experience of expending pure, physical energy and effort and feeling like I couldn't do it but then DOING IT and feeling that rush of love and relief and amazement that these women clearly felt in this film when they birthed their children.

I have coasted by in my life with half-assed efforts and it disgusts me. I have always been too afraid to *really* try, to put my entire self out there. I have been to meek to always speak my mind, too timid to claim my right to be here breathing and taking up space, to embarrassed to be too loud or in pain or admitting that I'm fucking scared and giving this my all.
And this is what I craved in my birthing experience.

I was terrified the first 6 weeks of motherhood. I had no idea what I was doing and I was scared shitless. Who gave me these tiny creatures to protect? Who am I anyway?

But now...I know exactly who I am. I know that I am strong and my body is strong and I could have, in different circumstances birthed my baby drug free and at home. It is so overwhelming to think of all the women before me and after me giving birth. Our bodies know what to do.
But we've been conditioned to be quiet and agreeable and pretty and small.

And now what? Now I am grateful and strong and happy and proud to be a mama to the two most beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes on. I don't think I will give birth again, but I cherish my memories of pregnancy and birth and feel so happy to be on this path with my little family along with me.

Happy Blog-a-versary to me!!!

Today is the one year anniversary of this blog!!

I really can't believe it's been a year already. I always get inspired to begin things in the Spring, my favorite time of year. It's really gorgeous here in Austin this time of year.
I am feeling a bit overwhelmed, though...I need to do some major Spring cleaning, both literally with the house and also mentally.

I have been having a lot of angst recently regarding my work/home balance. I have maintained contact with my profession while being a mom but I always think I'm not doing enough. I love being a mama and really just still want to be home with the boys. I'm exhausted and don't really want to leave them yet. I just don't have the energy to wholeheartedly pursue my career while still trying to run our household.

The boys will be 3 this year and in school pretty soon. If we can hold on financially until then I really think I should just focus all my energy and attention on my boys.

Even though I do a lot of work here at home I still feel guilty somehow, like I'm not doing enough, like I should be able to balance MORE on my shoulders...more outside work, better housekeeping around the house.

I really should stop beating myself up. I am doing all that I can.

Anyway, this is a happy day. I've spent a year here on this blog sorting through my life. And to those of you that read this and share that journey with me, thank you.

Blue Mama

"Jen's Musings" isn't all that exciting, although that is about the gist of the blog. I know, this is only interesting to me, but what do ya'll think?

"Trials & Tribulations" is a phrase my Grandma, Beaulah Pearl uses. She uses a lot of great phrases, "useless as a screen door on a submarine" is another good one.

I don't have much to report. It's sunny outside after being overcast this morning, the boys picked more flowers for me today.

In fact, they are being so sweet and cute lately. They are always cute to me, but they have been extra sweet. M helped me rub lotion on my feet and they picked a color for me to paint my toenails. ("Blue, Mama")

You Don't Bring Me Flowers...Anymore

Today the boys brought me flowers for the first time. It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen, them handing me these raggedy old flowers that they wrestled from the ground and pulverized with their little meaty fists.

I put them in water and they are now on the table, and those jacked-up flowers are so lovely to me.

Thank you for the yummy "cock" !

That was the subject line for an email I received from my MIL last night...

"... Just a note to say thank you for that wonderful "cock" , it was one of the best layer cakes I have had....and the spinach was delicious too! I had a nice time yesterday...hope you, S and the boys did too..."

That's one thing I can say about the MIL, she DOES have a sense of humor!

The boys STILL call "cake" "cock" and it's usually a huge source of entertainment when it's time to celebrate someone's birthday. They just run around chanting:
"Cock, cock, yummy cock!!" It'll almost be sad when they learn to pronounce that A the right way!

Elliott Nikolai Tanner!!

Aka: My nephew and the boys' cousin! He will be here in approximately eleven weeks. I still can't believe that my youngest brother is having a baby! (that's him on the left of me and Bubba on the right...that's out at my mom's place in Arizona)

Baking Tips

When I was making my Easter cake, I turned to the internet to help me navigate the new world of parchment paper. I had never used it before but was nervous using my round vintage Bake King pans without some sort of anti-stick insurance. I have gotten really spoiled using silicone bake ware and really love it's non-stick action.

I had NO clue how to use parchment paper and was surprised to learn that I need a perfect 9" round for the bottoms of my pans. I found this video: on YouTube and got a very helpful tutorial that really saved me.



The second helpful tip was this one:

In order to have perfectly level layer cakes (to stack on top of each other) take a clean dish towel and gently press each cake flat immediately after it comes out of the oven. This will level off the "crowning" and make perfect cakes that will not need to be trimmed before they are frosted.

Yay!!! Give it a try!

Feeding the snack habit...

My boys inherited their parents' love for munchies. We're some hungry McHungries in general but all of us are inclined to snack all day.

A couple weeks ago I picked up a box of Clif Kid Z Bars to give the boys a quick snack so we could make it through our grocery shopping without a meltdown.

They LOVED the peanut butter flavor so the next week I bought two boxes and it seems that they now have a Z Bar addiction.

They BEG for them and do a happy little dance as I take them out of the pantry. They are quite pricey so I decided to try this recipe to see if we can find a substitute.

Moomers calls them "blue cookies" because of the blue wrapper and LeeLee chants "tooie tooie tooie" as I open one for him.

The ingredients aren't bad, but I would like to avoid chocolate and have a slightly lower sugar index. There are 11g of sugar and I don't buy breakfast cereal unless it has less than 10g per serving so I feel a bit uncomfortable buying snacks with more than 10g. They don't usually eat a whole bar at a time, but with our family blood sugar issues (S: diabetic, me: hypoglycemic) the less sugar the better.

I'll post again after we try this new recipe, I did alter it a bit, I didn't add honey and used only 1/2 c. of brown sugar and used organic apple sauce instead of oil and added a dollop of peanut butter to try and replicate the Z bars. I also used whole wheat flour instead of white and didn't add the wheat germ because I don't have any on hand. I just increased the oatmeal to make up for it.

After yesterday's crazy sugar intake there was no way I could bake anything sugary today, but I will have a strike on my hands if there are no treats in the house. We'll see...

Z Bar Ingredients:
Peanut Butter: Organic Peanut Butter (Organic Peanuts, Salt), Organic Evaporated Cane Juice Syrup, Organic Rolled Oats, Organic Brown Rice Syrup, Organic Tapioca Syrup, Organic Fig Paste, Organic Peanuts, Organic Oat Flour, Organic Milled Flaxseed, Organic Oat Fiber, Natural Flavors, Organic Chocolate (Organic Unsweetened Chocolate, Organic Evaporated Cane Juice, Organic Cocoa Butter, Soy Lecithin), Salt, Baking Soda. Vitamins & Minerals: Calcium Carbonate, Ascorbic Acid (Vit. C.), Niacinamide Vit. B3), Ferric Orthophosphate (Iron), Zinc Oxide, Cyanocobalamin (Vit B12), Thiamine Mononitrate (Vit. B1), Pyridoxine Hydrochloride (Vit. B6), Riboflavin (Vit. B2), Folic Acid (Vit. B9), Beta Carotene (Vit. A). Chocolate Brownie: Organic Rolled Oats, Organic Chocolate Chips (Organic Evaporated Cane Juice, Organic Unsweetened Chocolate, Organic Cocoa Butter, Soy Lecithin, Natural Flavors), Organic Evaporated Cane Juice Syrup, Organic Brown Rice Syrup, Organic Tapioca Syrup, Organic Fig Paste, Organic Oat Flour, Organic Cocoa Powder, Organic Soy Butter, Natural Flavors, Organic Oat Fiber, Organic Milled Flaxseed, Organic Chocolate (Organic Cane Juice, Organic Unsweetened Chocolate, Organic Cocoa Butter, Soy Lecithin), Salt, Baking Soda.

**I just took them out of the oven and tried one...they're perfectly chewy and sweet without being too sugary. They are tasty and healthy and I think the boys will love them! (they're on a special "adventure" with Dada)

Easter '08

This year Easter fell close to my MIL's birthday so she decided to have a party at her house.

She mentioned (*hint-hint*) that for her 9th birthday, which also fell close to Easter her mom made her an Easter egg cake. I decided to take on the challenge of trying to re-create this mystery cake and I think I did a pretty good job.

The boys had fun hunting for eggs in her yard, hidden there by my brother-in-law and his girlfriend.

As much as I love the domestic arts, this particular event wore me right out. I guess I decided to do too much, between knitting the clutch for one of her presents, baking and decorating the cake and making the spinach thing I was ready for a nap before we even went over there.

But all in all everything turned out fine. Next year the boys will probably be more into the whole egg-hunting thing.

Second Finished Bag!!

I had originally planned for this bag to be a wristlet, but I changed my mind and now it is just a plain clutch.

It was more of a pain than I had imagined even though it started out easy-peasy.

The problem was the snap-closure. It's magnetic and the flap wasn't stable enough to easily pull it apart.

Plus, the top snap back showed and it wasn't cute. So I had to knit a top piece and sew it onto the flap, making it a different thickness than the body of the bag.

But whatever. It's done and it's pretty good for the first one.

I'm giving it to my MIL for her birthday tomorrow and I hope she likes it. Although at this point I'm almost too exhausted to think about it.

I've had a long day and I have to make an egg-shaped birthday cake AND a spinach-thing for the potluck Easter/Birthday bonanza.

Hi Gamma, Baby Goats?

M & Gamma outside Bubba's stylish Dallas apartment last year















Me, my mom & Bubba circa 1980









This morning S woke me up from a sound sleep to tell me that my mom was in the hospital.

I was calm at first, a little annoyed (ok a lot) at being woken up so early (ahem...9:30am)
She has been waiting to have a hysterectomy scheduled and apparently last night had so much pain in her abdomen that she was vomiting. She spent the night in the hospital and was waiting to get test results back by the time I got the news.

I called my brother, Bubba and he told me what little he knew. I was starting to feel panicky when S called the hospital and they put him through to her room in the ER. I talked to her for a while, trying not to worry that her voice was almost unrecognizable as her own, the usual feistiness replaced by a slightly confused raspy twang; her North Texas accent was stronger than I had heard it in years.

She told me that she was dozing off and on, dreaming/hallucinating that I was there talking to her and that her goats (she had just delivered two baby girl goats yesterday) were also talking to her. After we got off the phone I called one of my aunts and my cousin to let them know what had happened.

Two or so hours later the hospital told her she could go home, that she had ovarian cysts that had ruptured and her doctor would let her know when her hysterectomy will happen and what they are going to do about her ovaries on Wednesday.

The whole issue here, what makes it so upsetting to me is the fact that my mom does not live here. She lives in Arizona. It's so frustrating to me to not be able to just hop in the car and go to the hospital, taking a few things with me to make her more comfortable. Facial toner and lip balm, essential oils and warm socks. I would sit by her bedside and knit while she slept, dreaming of goats and grandsons.

We moved to Arizona when my mom was around my age, I was in between my freshman and sophomore years of high school. I immediately hated it there. The dry, hot climate, the lack of interesting things to do for young people, the dusty, flat landscape. I vowed that I would leave there as soon as I could and I did. I moved to San Francisco when I was twenty and never looked back, leaving that small, stifling town behind and not regretting it.

But regretting the fact that my mother and brother were still there. It was in that little town that my father died, a couple of years before I left, in the hospital that my mom found herself in this morning.

My mother is not an old woman, she was always much younger than all of my friend's moms, and now she is not even in her fifties yet. A hysterectomy is a very routine surgery but that doesn't comfort me in the slightest.

After she was on her way home I took M with me to run errands. Buying Easter candy and a birthday present for my MIL, whose birthday we are celebrating tomorrow.

I tried to get my thoughts back on track, away from my mom looking pale and vulnerable in the hospital and back to how I was going to decorate the egg-shaped birthday cake I was planning for S's mom.

I was listening to Regina Spektor on my iPod, getting ready to belt out my favorite part of "Fidelity", when she stops singing in that impossibly high voice and allows me to sing along, when I burst into uncontrollable tears. M reached out from his car seat and tried to pat my arm. I called my mom when we stopped at the book store, crying so hard she couldn't understand me.

Luckily her voice was almost back to normal and she used the tone of voice she uses on me when I am hysterical: patient and slow, like I have severe mental disabilities. M got on the phone and said 'Hi, Gamma. Baby goats?' I was able to complete my errands, though in a daze, forgetting half of what I came for and buying things I didn't really need.

I ran into a friend of mine and instead of making small talk I babbled on for a good four minutes about why I was lacking mascara (crying) and how I stole produce bags to knit a present for my MIL. I'm still a bit of a mess and am trying to figure out a good way to transport me and the boys to Arizona to go see my mom.

Boob?

Has anyone else ever wondered why the synonym for the word "boob" is an idiot, of implied male origin?

And when it refers to a woman's breast it's considered "vulgar" slang?

I don't consider it vulgar at all, in fact I much prefer the mild-sounding "boob" to the harsh "tit" any day.

boob n. Slang. A stupid or foolish person; a dolt. [Short for BOOBY .] boob n. Vulgar Slang. A woman's breast.

One year already??

I just realized that in one week this blog will be one year old! Wow, time has really flown. I don't know how I will celebrate, but I'm guessing it will include baked goods and maybe a year in review kind of thing. We'll see.

The newest residents of our Little Tikes Retirement Home

We're not super-picky about our yard toys because we feel that they will just get old and faded in the hot Texas sun anyway.

So when we see well-loved but still-usable toys sitting out at the curb in our neighborhood we snatch them up (before someone else does!)

Consequently, we could invite twenty more toddlers over and we'd still have more than enough cars, riding toys, swings and playscapes to go around.

It's great and the boys happily welcome new additions to our plastic army.

B.I.M.B.O (Breastfeeding Inside My Bedroom Only)

Bedtime!















My family frolicking in the breastfeeding cave before bedtime (woman painting in background by my MIL)













More pre-nummie fun











At this point in our breastfeeding relationship, this is what I try to do although I am not always entirely successful.

There are still times that I have to give the boys nummies when we are out, usually when they are tired.

Luckily I live in a very pro-breastfeeding community and have never gotten a rude comment the entire time we've been nursing. Most of the time people can't even tell what we're doing. I've never felt it was something to hide or be ashamed of and I think that helped. I would have gotten more curious stares had I been more nervous about disapproval. My boys' needs and well-being has always come before trying to appear appropriate or modest.

As I've said before, I never planned on nursing this long. (it will be three years 8/8) I knew that it was important for them to receive breast milk for at least six months, preferably a year and that's how long I had mentally committed to.

I didn't know if we would have problems, if they would even like it or even if my breasts would make enough milk to sustain two tiny people.

But they took to it immediately and we enjoyed an easy time nursing. They didn't really start solids until they were over eight months old.

When I went back to work part-time I had to incorporate using a breast pump into our routine. This was stressful and annoying.

Breastfeeding a child is much more comfortable than being strapped to a machine like a cow. I was working at Whole Foods at the time and they didn't have a really good place for me to pump and the stress made me produce less milk which stressed me out more and before I knew it I had to scramble to steady my milk supply.

Now that I have a "mature supply" I don't pump ever and it is such a relief. The pump was a lifesaver when I needed it when I was out longer than 3 hours or when I went out of town once but it was never something I wanted to have to do often.

The boys still sleep with me and I still nurse them to sleep. I don't usually mind but we've been sick and that makes them nurse like crazy which starts to make me cranky. I have a king size bed so there's more than enough room to escape them once they fall asleep.

I love waking up to their sleepy faces and it's even relaxing to breastfeed them. I complain about the fact that they love their nummies so much but honestly I think I'm addicted to the happy hormones breastfeeding supplies and I'm afraid that once I stop I'll be hit with a severe case of post-partum depression or at least a similar hormone crash.

My MIL breastfed her 3 boys for a total of over eight years so I'm guessing that the little guys in our family just love boobie milk.

I know this time is fleeting so I'm just going with it. I love them and now that they are toddlers they don't always slow down long enough to cuddle so this is a built-in way to reconnect with my sweet little boys.

And they think they still need it, so I am going to trust that.

Papa & LeeLee

Here are a couple of recent photos of my sweet LeeLee having some Papa time.

Bag Lady!

I finished my first recycled plastic bag yesterday and it turned out pretty well. I like the shape and will post a pattern (I borrowed elements from about three different bags) after I tweak it a little.

This first one is far from perfect, but I got to experiment with different bags (grocery, diaper, bread, produce, Target) so now I know which ones work best for different style bags and which ones to avoid altogether.

S thinks bags...out of bags is utterly ridiculous but I'm ok with that. Honestly, I thought he'd be thrilled at the low, low cost of the materials but...not so much.

I started my second bag tonight, it is a wristlet made entirely out of re -purposed produce bags. (meaning unused/furtively stolen from the produce dept. of my local grocery store as I bought bananas....) I'm hoping to use a metal magnetic snap closure, I'll post pictures when I'm through, hopefully tomorrow.
Happy Crafting!!!!

*Here is a rare glimpse of my naked couch...now you know why it has a cover, time to go get that sucker out of the dryer!!!!!

The First Day of Spring

Today is the first day of Spring. I wish I could say I have spent the day frolicking in nature. I still have a cold and still feel pretty under the weather although it is feeling like it's on the way out.

Yesterday my lovely friend, B brought by an emergency load of stuff for me including some DVD's for the boys to watch (and give me a break from Bedknobs and Broomsticks...why, why did I buy that? Oh, yeah...because it was $.99 and seemed old fashioned and wholesome..grrr) a humidifier and some super tasty cookies. (S loved them and was sad that I only saved him 2...he was lucky I didn't hand him a bag of crumbs, they were THAT good!)

Last night I loaded the humidifier up with pine, lavender and eucalyptus essential oils and fell into the best, deepest sleep I've had in a very long time. Especially since I have been sleeping SO shitty since being knocked over by this horrendous bug.

The boys are napping and I should be unloading perishable groceries. I do plan on spending at least an hour outside before the sun goes down, though. Maybe a walk when the boys wake up from their nap.

Cranky Mama Time

This is not an issue I am overly proud of, and should probably get over, but here it is anyway.

At my chosen grocery store there is a special block of parking spots reserved for customers with children. It's off to the side, not right front and center like handicap parking; what I'm trying to say is that it's not THE most desirable spots being blocked off, and it's a huge lot with many other parking spaces.

What makes these spots particularly handy for me is that they are right next to the basket return stalls that always have available kid carts, the ones where two children can sit comfortably. This makes it easy for me to shop with the boys and still have space in the basket for a week's worth of groceries.

Ok, so that brings me to my beef. Lots of people who DON'T have kids park there and don't seem to give a shit and it drives.me.crazy. Not all places have this and I appreciate it SO MUCH.
I try not to get my panties in a wad when I see someone ignoring the signs but today most of the spots were taken and I had to drive around a few times to get one while I saw a steady stream of people (all alone, all without kids) park in the reserved spots.

The tricky thing was that I was on a work conference call as I parked (my end was muted luckily) and got my basket to take back to the car and load the boys in. A single guy in his twenties came roaring up in my least favorite kind of car, a new Mustang GT. These cars are loud and flashy in what seems to be (in my humble opinion) the lamest kind of way. I really just hate them and always wonder: who buys these things? Well, today I got a chance to find out and it was EXACTLY the kind of guy I figured.

He got out and started to swagger towards the store and I said 'excuse me...those spots are for customers with children' and he said (not kidding) FUCK YOU! I have never called a stranger a douche bag to their face before but this time it seemed entirely appropriate.

Yes. I said to this Douchey McDoucheface-- "You're a douchebag!"

End of story. Taking a deep breath. Serenity now. Back to listening to my conference call about homeopathy.

Wordless Wednesday--LeeLee & Astrid

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!

Ah, another holiday, another chance to bake.

I decided to make Irish Soda Bread for S. He is Irish on his dad's side. (hence our last name)

My mom has Irish roots but I had never seen or tasted soda bread before, making it a bit difficult when it came time to shaping the loaves. I had no idea what it was supposed to look like. So what I ended up with were two semi-unattractive loaves of dense bread.

S said it tasted right but should have been smaller, more rounded and less flat.

Ah, well. I'll perfect it next year!

My Life List

This month in Body and Soul magazine
there was an article discussing "Life Lists", basically a list of things you would like to do during your lifetime. This got me to thinking about mine.

I usually carry it around in my head, it's what that worries me when I think about death. I want to accomplish everything on my list before that happens.

So here is my modest list, in no particular order:

1. Get a passport in order to:

2. Travel as much as possible but hopefully making it to Greece, Prague, France, England, Ireland, Japan, and Costa Rica.

3. See more of the U.S (and do all the traveling while I'm young enough to enjoy it)

4. Achieve modest success in my various professional ventures including getting published in a magazine, creating a great business website, building a private facial practice hopefully on my property and cobbling together the right mix of other endeavors.

5. Learn another language, maybe German and Spanish


I'm sure there's more, but those are the important things. I've already crossed off moving back to Texas,home ownership, parenthood and marriage (twice!) What's on your list?

T to the M to the I

Childbirth does strange and mysterious things to the body...some are miraculous and lovely and some are just strange and wrong.

For example, I lost at least an inch on my already-scrawny calves and ankles, making my favorite boots look like galoshes. My substantial thighs were untouched.

But the most disturbing change of all was this: I lost my pubic padding. It's gone and it doesn't appear to be coming back.

My vulnerable and unprotected pubic bone aches every time I go to yoga and have to lay on my stomach and do any pose that puts pressure to my mid-pelvic region. I have to use a blanket. I have done the furtive glance-around and I have not seen one other lady protecting her pubis with a freaking blanket.

I asked S in a panic tonight if my jutting bones cause him pain or discomfort and he assured me they did not.

However...I am not happy about this.

Welcome to Austin...Now Go Home

Pics:
1. Bust party!
2. Busted on the pavement...kind of how we felt that day.
3. Funny tour bus...Hillbilly Orchestra, sounds like a nice group of folks.
4. The Breeders...or NOFX..whatever, it's a blurry pic of someone. It was really crowded and we were far away.
5. "Take me home, Mama!" the boys reluctantly attend their first punk rock show.



Yesterday was the last day of South by Southwest (SXSW) music fest. What a zoo this weekend was. It seemed pretty crazy this year, more so than in the other years I've lived here.

I had resolved to hide in my house, far enough away from the downtown mêlée to be able to ignore the traffic and mess it brings into town until it was all over.

The boys haven't been feeling well, and the past few nights we've been up with them. During the days they are fine, their appetite is good and they want to play, but they look like little snot-glazed donuts. At night the phlegm monster comes out and it's fitful sleep for all of us.

On Saturday something possessed us to venture out and go to 6th street. I ducked in briefly to a party being given by Bust magazine and saw a really great band, I didn't catch their name but the singer was a woman who was also playing the drums. (rad!)

After snagging a Bust button and a sticker we moved on, planning on checking out the Mess with Texas II show. We took about three steps then looked at each other and said 'let's get out of here.'

It was hot and we were all feeling pretty puny so we headed home to rest. M took a three hour nap and when he woke up we headed down to the park to try and see Lucero, the Breeders and NOFX.

Lucero is a band that my ex-husband is really into and he's been trying to get me to check them out.

I've never been the biggest Breeders fan but they are crafty and catchy and I was into seeing their show. NOFX I saw more times than I needed to in the Bay Area, and I did it drunk which is much more fun than with three sick people, two of whom are in a stroller.

We drove around and around looking for parking to no avail. I quickly lost interest and just wanted to go home. We were just about to head back home when a parking spot opened up on what seemed like the Tenderloin, Texas-style.

A crackhead tried to wave us away from the parking spot, saying first that the guy behind us had dibs on it (he was pulling into another spot) and then saying that he was saving it for his girlfriend. Finally he gestured for us to park. Uh, thanks.

He said 'ya'll probably won't even tip. look at ya'll, you got a family, man ya'll are doing BAD...I can tell...ya'll are doing BAD'

It's pretty depressing when a crackhead sums up your life so quickly and accurately. We should have just left then. But we persevered, making it to the show to see the last half of Lucero then dividing our time between the Breeders and NOFX.

There were many children there, but we still felt like shitty parents as we walked through clouds of cigarette and pot smoke to get to a more quiet location. We left the park and went around to the back of the stages where we could still hear the bands but not at ear-splitting decibels.

We stayed long enough to hear "Cannonball" by the Breeders and "Don't Call Me White" by NOFX, then called it a night.

On the radio this morning there were post-hoopla interviews and every single person was sick. I don't know if they brought some nasty airplane/car trip germies to us or if we infected them, but it sucks.