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 It’s been a very long time since I have posted anything. And t last check this was not available in a google search engine 

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Send me a line cmjohnson1283@gmail.com. I’m truly curious. 

Seven and Four.

I've started this blog a few times and every time it comes off as explaining something so that I don't feel guilty and irresponsible.  That is a very irritating thing. I should not have such feelings of guilt or irresponsibility over anything in my life if I haven't done something wrong. I certainly owe no one a long drawn out explanation of the facts in order to show that what occurred wasn't a purposeful event or even accidentle due to my irresponsibility.  Then I just sit here typing and wondering if I even need to say anything all because is it really anyone's business?

But how much of what I am feeling is a heart issue?  My heart issue?  I've been asking myself over and over again if it is an issue and why do I make myself feel this way?  Why do I feel so judged? Why do I just prepare to hear ignorant comments?  Maybe it's just the personal experiences I have had. Maybe it's the empathy I have deeply felt for others when they have experienced shaming and guilt tripping from others that are supposed to be close to them. It's the one subject I am most sensitive to and I take so very personal.

"You have HOW many?!"
"You know how that happens, right?l
"What were you thinking?"
"Are you getting fixed after this one?"
"Is he getting fixed after this one?"
"Are you done yet?"
"Why would you do that to yourself?l
"You are totally insane."
"How do you plan to feed them all?"
"Are you done trying for another boy?"
"Are you planning on using birth control this time?"
"Isn't it about time you guys had another one?"


That's really just a small fraction of the things that have been said to me. Some of it malicious, some of it out of straight up stupidity. I don't really feel that the state of my uterus, my Fallopian tubes or my ovaries are anyone's business nor the condition of my husband's vas deferens.  I've never held the belief that I am required to make a formal announcement about our future plans and family growth, although a small selective group of people are aware of this. But the stupid and hurtful things I've experienced and watched others experience is dumbfounding.

With that said, I've had the very unfortunate experience of birth control failure that resulted in a miscarriage I didn't know I was having until I discovered the tiny being one evening after bleeding for 12 days. A positive confirmed it the next day and a negative a week later. Seven pregnancies and four live births is what I get to report at the doctors office when I go to discuss failed methods.

So I don't owe anyone an explanation in order to look responsible. I don't need to feel guilty about pregnancy inside my marriage and I certainly don't need to give a darn about what people think of my family choices. I'm just here in disbelief  and frustration over it. Not really sure if there will be any need for emotional healing like I needed with the last two I was aware of.

So at the end of this I'm just pissed off when I think about what I would have heard and dealt with if this had been a viable pregnancy.

Forgetting Social Beauty Standards

I will be 33 this year. I am finally 100% comfortable in my own skin.  I sincerely don't care what anyone may or may not think of me unless they are my husband. He's the only earthly person I live to keep happy and satisfied. I am quite happy and satisfied in this.

He is a simple person and likes things just simple. I enjoy not having to worry about the expectation of high maintenance that I probably could never live up to, nor do I desire it. I don't do make-up and fancy clothing. I haven't brushed my hair in two and a half years and I cannot even remember the last time I plucked or waxed my eye brows.

I am also a mother to 4 kids who will learn beauty standards for women from me first hand. One young man that may very well seek women similar to me and 3 girls looking up to and mimicking what I am. That's a huge responsibility and I have thought long and hard on it. So I want to share a story of my own coming into the reality of social beauty standards.

When I was a young 4th grader I longed to shave.  Man I hated the dark hair on my legs! My mom had one of those fancy Gillette razors always in view and fun shaving gel. She had long, smooth legs and I wanted them too. But at age 9 she really didn't think I was ready for such responsibility and nor should I have been at such a young age.  I came home devastated from school one day because my friend (who later gave me lice and then stopped talking to me)said something to me about how hairy my legs were.  She was a dark hair and skinned Filipino girl who had no body hair at all.  I came home crying to my mom about it and she and my dad caved and let me start shaving, in the 4th grade! And so started my journey navigating social beauty standards. I was reminded all the time to shave by my mom and help me if I forgot and had any stubble. It became a big deal in my life. Not long after I plunged forward into maturity and also had to start shaving my under arms, one more thing I was always checked for and reminded of.

I have spent years on the hunt for body hair. For a long time I was also shaving my arms because I felt they too were too hairy for a woman and was embarrassed by the hair. It was terrible. I stopped shaving my arms a number of years ago and have no idea why I started, they aren't as bad as I seem to recall.

As most women I have kept up with the constant hair removal because it was an expectation set forth way back by Harper's Bazaar Magazine when they got in bed with Gillette to convince the women of America they needed to remove all their hair to be seen in more revealing clothing. (seriously Google it) I struggled through pregnancies to stay hair free, through postpartum and into new born baby days trying to keep it.  It was exhausting.

Then something happened.  One time while pregnant with Penny I shaved and got the worst rash of my life.  It scabbed over on my leg and underarms.  Bled and burned.  I chalked it up to a bad razor and let it heal.  All while feeling embarrassed and in pain.  I got new razors and tried again and AGAIN I got a horrible, bleeding rash. Could not believe it. It was fall going into winter so I thought hey no worries I can take a break, no one will see.  I checked over and over with SKip about it and he INSISTED it didn't matter to him. So I stopped until after Penny was born.  The very first time I shaved after, the rash was back. I couldn't believe it. I was forced at this time to really think about shaving and how important it was. I discovered, its not.  So I quit. Totally. No more shaving for me. The first summer after she was born I spent a lot of time worrying someone would stare or say something. I got back to the gym and worried that someone would notice my underarm hair and be revolted. But nothing ever happened. No one ever stared, never made a face, never said anything.

So I really got to thinking about the beauty example I may be setting for my girls, for my son. I don't want any of them ever thinking hair removal is a must to be attractive. It really should be an option we make based on our own likes and dislikes and not what someone else may say or think.  If its something they want to try, go for it.  I wont be looking at their legs and under arms every day telling them to keep up with it. I'd like my son to be ok with a partner they may opt out and not put that kind of pressure on her.

Its been at least a year since I last tried to shave.  I can tell you my skin is still very sensitive, so I am pretty sure I can expect the same issue. That's ok with me because I don't even have the desire to try anyways. With 4 kids and a husband I don't have the time to worry about such things much less spend the time doing them.

Take 30 days off and see how you feel.

I Would Have Been a Good Mother

Today I was sitting in the doctors office with Penny waiting my turn. There were a couple of emergent appointments and he was running behind. Good thing she's an easy going baby. Next to me sat an elderly lady with her husband and she was simply smitten with Penny who was blowing her bubbles and handing out smiles in big bunches. I was waiting for the grand baby comments to start coming.

She asked how old she was, was she a quiet baby, did she like her car seat. Then she got down on the floor and started really looking at Penny and tickling her feet. She started commenting on how perfect her toes were and her toenails. She looked at me an said she had never had any babies and how she was pretty sure she would have been a good mother.

She went on to ask about when babies start talking, how often they use the bathroom and seemed pretty amazed at how aware Penny was of her surroundings  at her age. She was just full of so much joy learning all about babies and seemed so sad at the same time. Her husband mostly ignored her attempts to get him involved in the conversation. He was not at all interested.

I felt really sad for this lady. I dont know if she chose to never have any or if nature chose for her, but it just seemed terrible to not have any of your own children or grandchildren to talk about as an elderly adult. I know not everyone chooses to have babies, but I am also pretty sure no one actually regrets having them when they become seniors.

I have my days where I think oh what if it was just me to do whatever I wanted with no interruptions or schedules. But I am truly blessed to be a mother of 4 and I know I will never look back with regret for having them. I am thankful I will never have to sit in an office when I am old and gray and know nothing of babies. I cannot imagine.

You're Gonna Miss This

Trace Atkins has a song called,"Your gonna miss this."  It follows the life of a woman from high school longing to be done, to a newlywed ready for a house and babies to mother with screaming kids and barking dog.

You're gonna miss this.  I hate those words.  I really do.  They annoy the living crap out of me.  There is a lot in life that will be missed as little people grow and new phases of life are entered. However it never fails that the words you're gonna miss this are always uttered in time of chaos and total stress.  Like somehow that makes it all better, like you are going to look back fondly on wanting to consume large amounts of alcohol and ripping your hair out.

Seriously I will NOT miss:

sleep deprivation
toddler tantrums
breastfeeding
my insanely messy house
the 4 o'clock melt downs
how long it takes to load small kids in the car
bedtime
diapers
the constant state of stress
bodily fluids that aren't mine
random screaming
flying food


No, I wont miss any of that craziness.  I will miss watching them grow, watching them change.  I will  miss the way they explore and learn, their changing faces.  I will miss their smallness and my ability to scoop them up in big hugs. I will miss the innocence.

So please, next time you are about to tell a stressed and struggling parent how much they are gonna miss this crazy state of stress, stop and come up with something else like,"Hang on, its not going to last forever."

Why I Chose Home Birth, Part 3

If you haven't read Part 1 and Part 2, please do so before continuing. 


Once Aiden was taken away to the nursery for his bath and more complete exam I was left alone. I was told I wasn't allowed to get up and pee without a nurse for the first few hours because of the epidural, the one that didn't work. I rang for help getting to the bathroom and waited. I rang again and waited. I finally said to Hell with these people, got up and went to the bathroom. An hour after my first call a nurse showed up to help and I informed her I took care of it myself. My family had all left and I was just there, alone. In shock of what happened. I was sore and sad and already missing my baby. Aiden's father came back a bit after that with no baby and I asked what was going on and he said he didn't know. He left to get food. I rang for the nurses again and wanted to know where my baby was. I was told I couldn't see him yet.

Sometime after 9 I was wheeled back to see him. I was told his blood sugars were too low and they had to give him formula and keep him for further observation.  He just laid in the warmer and I wasn't allowed to hold him. I cried because I wanted him so bad. Sometime after 10 they finally brought him back to me. His feet all bandaged up because they were cut up from all the blood taking. I was horrified. The low blood sugar is a side effect of the drugs pumped into me during labor.

Aiden cried all nite long. I struggled to feed him.  He weighed less than 6lbs and was so tiny and fragile. He just struggled to latch on because of his size and my size.The nurses bugged us all nite for heel pricks to check his sugars. It was miserable.  The next morning the paranoia of losing him was setting him. I was fearful to let anyone hold or touch him. My heart would race and palms would sweat. We were moved to smaller recovery room so someone else could have mine. I was alone a lot with him. He cried a lot. I cried a lot. It was hard. I continued to struggle to get him to latch right and I was getting pretty sore. I asked a nurse to see a Lactation Consultant for help.  She instead said she would help.  Her idea of help was to reach over, grab my breast and pinch my nipple flat and shove Aiden onto it. That is literally how it happened.  She left and I cried some more.

I had Aiden on a Monday and released on a Wednesday. I was not prepared to go home. I had no idea what I was doing. I was still trying to process what happened and I was anxiety ridden. For weeks after bringing Aiden home I couldn't go into public without the intense fear that someone was going to steal him. I was scared to let anyone hold him or touch him. Going to the doctor with him had me sobbing because I couldn't take his crying. I felt like I was failing. I didn't know I was about to live with 3 years of postpartum depression. I didn't know my then husband would quit his job and leave us with nothing. I didn't know my rage would eventually lead me to make poor decisions in my job that I would go on to lose.

I ended up loosing my milk and my mind around 4 months after he was born. I wound up letting other people raise him until he was three. I disengaged from him and lost so much time raising him. The fog I lived in was dangerous. I wanted to die everyday. I wanted him to die so I could just move on. My depression was very obvious. I made no point of hiding it. I couldn't. No one helped me. No one guided me.

To this day I do not let people hold my babies. It scares me. Skip may hold them and I feel ok, but anyone else forget it. I still feel fear in public initially as well. It's a very real fear and I trace it back to my son being taken from me.

My home births have been wildly different. Very healing in many ways. I receive respectful care and I have never had a single thing done to me without consent. Not even listing to heart tones without being asked. I choose home birth because I am scared of the hospital. I am scared of doctors and nurses that won't honor or respect my choices. I am scared for my body and for my babies to enter a maternity ward. I am scared to live my experience with Aiden all over again. I do not fear my midwives. I do not fear my body. I do not fear birth. So I stay home for my safety and for my family's safety. My body heals faster, my mind has stayed whole and my babies not traumatized.

Aiden's story is why I chose home birth.

Why I Chose Home Birth, Part 2

If you haven't read part one, do so before continuing. 

By the time we got to the hospital is was extremely obvious my water had broke. It was pretty much coming in gushes and I was starting to have some contractions. I waddled to the birth center soaking wet and was checked into an admitting room where they needed to make sure what was coming out of me was in fact amniotic fluid and not urine. I remember feeling pissed off to my core about this.I questioned the nurse and she said it was protocol. Fine. I let them put their little PH strip in me and verify that I wasn't having an over active bladder.My cervix checked and already 4cm dilated. I was taken to a labor and delivery room and given a gown with 2 big slits in the front of it for easier breast access after birth. Not at all modest. A nurse came in to administer an IV to which I attempted to refuse, but she would have none of it and said it was policy and I didn't have a choice. So the IV went in. Then she bought a bag of IV antibiotics. I tested positive for Group B Strep 3 weeks before and I guess 2 days of it then wasn't enough. I again questioned it and was told it was policy that I receive them because of my status. Everything appeared to be policy and I had no options to say no.

I was asked if I was contracting and at this point they had stopped. So I requested to do some walking to get things going again and was awarded 10 minutes of walking time before I was determined to not be making fast enough progress.  I was told, not asked, that I was going to be receiving pitocin to start my labor. As far as I was concerned it was started as contractions were starting again. So I questioned and was told it was doctor ordered and I needed to start being monitored. So I was sat on the bed, pit started and monitors hooked up.  In no time I was having horrible contractions that I was not prepared for and asked for them to turn it off and was told NO. It was doctor ordered. They let me off the monitor to move around. It was horrible. About an hour after I was first "ordered" to receive the Pit I was checked again and had progressed to a 6 and the nurse turned it up! I was told I needed to be having stronger contractions that were closer together. The pain got worse. I started crying. The nurse began to come in every few minutes and ask if I wanted an epidural even though I clearly expressed I did not. So I opted for a dose of Stadol to take the edge off. One hour after the upped dose of Pit I was again checked and nearly an 8. She turned it up again. A this point the pain and the contractions had become so unbearable I begged for the epidural after begging to have the Pit turned off. Doctor's orders that I have it.

The anesthesiologist came in and laughed at me for trying without it. He said he got there just in time because at 8 cm I would have to suffer through the pain. He placed the needle during a huge contraction and told me to stop crying about it and that the pain would all be over in a minute. At first it appeared to actually work. A few contractions went by and I was ok.  Then my blood pressure dropped and they lost Aiden's heart beat. I had nurses shoving an oxygen mask on me, injecting epinephrine into my IV and telling me I was about to be rushed to a C-Section because the baby was missing. The whole time I kept saying he's moving, he has hiccups, he's fine. My legs were forced open and a nurse started jamming something up me. His heartbeat came back on the monitor and he was fine. I found out later an internal heart monitor had been screwed into Aiden's scalp.

Then suddenly the worst contraction I had hit me like a bus. Pain and burning in my back like I was being broken in half.  The epidural stopped working and I was only numb from my thighs down. I endured back labor on my back totally immobilized for  near 3 hours. I asked many times to have the epidural removed so I could get up and was told no every time. I begged to have the Pit turned off and told no every time. I was being held hostage and had no choices or options. I screamed with every contraction and was told by my nurse to be quiet, I had an epidural and there was no way I was feeling it that strongly. Toward the end of all this back labor I was checked and told I was at a 9 and it would be another hour or so. Once contraction later the pain stopped and I told the nurse I had to push, NOW! She told me there was no way and I wasn't allowed to push.  It was 3pm.  So instead of being kind she checked me during my next contraction with so much force I nearly kicked her and confirmed I was in fact a 10 and she needed to call my doctor. I was not to push. Well too damn bad because I did with every single contraction and that nurse got angrier and angrier with me.

When my doctor finally showed up I was about crowning and she readied herself. With every contraction the nurse would start counting to 10 very slowly and then chastise me for not pushing past my contraction. I finally looked at her and said,"Get the fuck out and get me a new nurse."
I got a new and much kinder nurse. During one of my final contractions my doctor looked at me and said,"Christine, you are going to tear, I need to do an episiotomy, I know you don't want one."
 I told her no I didn't want one, but she said,"Sorry, I have to" and cut me on the next contraction. I did not consent.

At 3:36 pm Aiden was born covered in my blood from being cut. He was laid on my belly, his cord clamped and cut with nurses and doctors knowing I wanted it delayed. Aiden hardly cried. He only whimpered. They took him to the warmer across the room and I was stitched up. He was brought back all bundled up and looking tired. He wouldn't even breastfeed. I tried to unwrap him and have him closer to me and was told no, I couldn't do that. I was given one hour with him before he was taken away for the next 5 hours. I was given no information as to what was going on.

End of Part 2. Nothing about my birth went as planned except that I wasn't C-sectioned and I came close. No respected me, listened to me or stopped any procedure when I asked. I had no voice, no back up and no rights. I was stripped of human dignity and autonomy.


Part 3 Here

Why I Chose Home Birth, Part 1

Most everyone I know sees me as the "crunchy" type.  The person who uses herbs, vitamins and food to deal with my family's illness. I research before deciding I need a doctor and when I go in I pretty much know what the issue is and I actually require their help to get to a solution.  I try my best to be an informed medical consumer, this is my health and life we are talking about, as well as that of my husband and children.

I haven't always been that way and I think many in my shoes also have not always been that way. Something triggered the change and its usually pretty big. For me it was my pregnancy, labor, birth and postpartum with Aiden. I didn't jump on the crunchy mom band wagon right away, but when I got pregnant in 2010 I got fearful of the experience again and then when I miscarried and pretty much got sent home I knew something wasn't right. I went home and started researching what to expect with that miscarriage and found a whole array of information that started me on the road to "crunchy". With my second miscarriage I had already chosen a midwife, met her and lost my baby 3 days later. She gave me support and information on healing and helping with a "sticky baby" next go around. And along came Fiona.

The ending weeks of that pregnancy I found myself overcome with so much anxiety and panic over what would happen at that birth.  Everything that had happened during Aiden's played over and over in my head and the memories and trauma that I stuffed deep down came back and I couldn't believe what happened to me and how it was all brushed off as a "normal" experience. Now at the ending weeks of what will be my 4th child, 3rd home birth the anxiety, fear and memories of his birth creep back in on me.  I reflect on it and I am thankful to have this choice. I have never shared the details of his birth, I have given people the basic run down. I have shared more intimate memories with my husband and midwives, they have all shared their sorrow with me for what I went through and experienced. My midwife in Kansas was the first women to ever say to me,"I am sorry for your experience."   Those remain some of the most important words to me in my journey to choose better for me and my children.

So I am going to share my story of Aiden in detail. The details are WHY I birth at home. They are WHY I encourage other women to be educated in ALL their choices, whether or not they choose a midwifery care model and home birth.  I know hospital birth can also be amazing, but it requires knowledge and education on the mother and father's part.

March 5th, 2006 I found out I was pregnant with Aiden. I was quite frankly shocked and my then husband acted like it was some miracle. Its not that we weren't planning or trying, but rather he really wasn't trying and I had plans to get back on birth control and join the Armed Forces of some kind to get away. But I was still excited. I found an OB, made my first appointment and went.  She was late and coming back from a C-section. No big deal. She spent a whopping 10 minutes with me and that included a PAP and said she would see me in 4 weeks.  I had so many questions and I felt brushed off.  Along came my second and third appts with this woman and she again for both was coming back from a C-section.  I changed providers at 20 weeks because she scared me. My new provider was nice enough, appointments were still short and to the point. We explained birth plans, I wanted to go natural, I didn't want an episiotomy or IV. I wanted to shower and move. Basic things that should help me labor.  She agreed and said it should be fine. No problems.

At 33 weeks pregnant I was at a company sponsored nite out, bowling! When we headed to my car I had a very odd sensation and my then husband actually witnessed Aiden drop and engage into my pelvis. It was weird.  Went home and realized I hadn't been feeling him move at all.  So I chugged a can of Coke and waited. Nothing.  Took a shower because that always irritated him into moving. Nothing. Laid down on my belly. Nothing. Called the birth center at Penrose and told them what was happening and they asked me to come in and have him checked out. We got there, got checked in and found out the booger was fine. While I was hooked up I was having the usual contractions that I had been becoming accustomed to over the past week or 2. But I had five in one hour and to a hospital that means I am in labor. Not cool at 33 weeks.  So they checked me, not enough dilation to call it 1cm, but they treated me like I was going to deliver anyways. I was given steroid injections to mature lungs and injections to stop labor and was admitted. By morning with all nite monitoring they determined I was not going to stop "laboring" and told me I was going to be put on a magnesium drip to relax my uterus and stop labor.  I was again checked with no changes noted. Other than the contractions that were never more than 20 minutes apart, I had ZERO signs of labor.  They wont even admit a woman at term with contractions that far apart. But I knew no better and no one was telling me anything that wasn't scaring the crap out of me.

At 6am an IV was placed and a magnesium drip started.  The pain from that going into my arm, the burning and the fact that my vision tripled within seconds had me puking and crying for it to stop! I was told I wouldn't be allowed to walk while on this drug and a bedside toilet was brought to me, but I was warned I would more than likely be given a catheter because I wouldn't be able to move. I was told I was receiving this treatment. I was not asked. For 2 days I lay in a bed with this drip and I refused to have a catheter placed. I got up to pee.  At one point I noted that my urine was a very bright orange and smelled horrific and I asked why. Well turns out they also had me on an antibiotic drip because I tested positive for Group B Step.  I was not told I was positive, but I also wasn't even told what it was or why I had to have the antibiotics. Again, I was given drugs without express informed consent.

After 3 days I was released from the hospital and given a drug called Terbutaline to take every 4 hours to prevent contractions. I took it faithfully around the clock.  This drug has since been disapproved for long term use due to heart attacks in infants and mothers. Although I took this drug I continued with contractions and at every appointment with my provider there were no actual signs of change to my cervix that should cause worry of imminent labor and delivery.  I stopped taking it at 36 weeks with my doctors consent and at 36 weeks 3 days my water broke at 6;30 am and I was told I needed to come in right away. My labor hadn't really got started and I had an overwhelming desire to stay home and not let those people touch me anymore. But my family would have none of it and ushered me into the car and off I went.

That's the end of part one.  Looking at how the "pre-term" labor situation played out it is very clear to me 3 pregnancies later that early, regular contracting is what my body does. I don't know that I ever was actually at risk of delivering that early. I do believe Aiden came at 36 weeks because of all the personal stress I was enduring at the time and he and body couldn't take it anymore.  The drugs that were administered to me were done so without being asked, without being fully  informed of their side effects on me and my baby. I had many tests done and none of the results relayed to me. Evidence care was not practiced as it was pretty obvious with no changes to my cervix that I was not in fact in labor. I asked a few times if I was really in labor because it didn't feel like it and if all the interventions were necessary and I was simply told without them I'd be having a baby early and I wouldn't be taking him home if that happened.


Part 2 Here

The Joy of Family and What it is Teaching Me

I have a big over sized coffee mug of Rice Krispies with some sugar in front of me. At 30 weeks pregnant and not much of an appetite still, it's one of the few things that really tastes good. It's my lunch many days. There are pieces of taco shell smashed into the carpet from the table all the way up the stairs. Fiona and Phoebe half playing and half eating them before nap time. Which it appears Phoebe has gone down, but Fiona is still protesting some.  I am hoping she hasn't taken her diaper off and peed in the crib again as a form of protest. I am considering duct tape as a possible problem solver here. My kitchen floor is sticky where Phoebe was painting with her sippy cup, can't wait for new ones I know are coming for Christmas.

Many days I would imagine my life looks like a total disaster from the outside. Kids running and screaming. Getting into things and making messes bigger than life.  I probably seem overly permissive about it all. But really what's to be up tight about? I won't always have toddlers running a muck or an obnoxious 8 year old that likes to instigate things either. I will not always be this busy with them and I know someday I will have time for other things(like cleaning more). For now almost everything I do revolves around the care of my family, three kids, a husband and a pending birth. Many days caring for me comes sometime at the end of the evening or not at all. That's really ok. So many times they need me more than I need me and I am happy to be there.

My kids and husband teach me a lot. Sometimes I am a hard learner and I long for things to be simpler and to require less thought, but they are building me just as much as I am helping to build them. It's no easy task and I have days where I am dying to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but my tunnel is still quite long!

My dear Aiden is teaching me to not look at and judge someone from where they come from. It's the hardest thing to do and so easy to just compare and look for solutions based on that. But I am learning to look past so much. He is teaching patience and to strive to understand things I normally would not bother with. He teaches me to try harder and to try gentler than I am used to. I have spent so much time beating myself up over Aiden and the things I should have done or could have done only to realize non of it matters. He has taught me to be a little easier on myself and give some grace when needed.

Fiona is a teacher of self control. As in the ONLY control one has is over themselves. You simply cannot control another human. She teaches me compromise. Fiona teaches me everyday to not sweat the small stuff. She has shown me not to cry over spilled milk or smashed in food.  Not to worry about wall coloring, whether it be crayons, marker or peanut butter.  It all washes off, sometimes with a little more elbow power than not. Fiona has made me ever thankful to the inventor of the vacuum cleaner.

Phoebe, while still small has a very powerful lesson she reminds of every single day. Many many times a day. No matter what you are doing you are never too busy to stop, reconnect and love the ones around you. Almost without fail every task I set upon she stops me to be held, hugged and kissed.  Sometimes its just moments before she is off to make a mess with Fiona. Other times it takes so long I forget what I was doing as I listen to her babble at me and rest her head on my shoulder. Ignoring her is not an option. Slow down mom, come back to earth is her message. Turn off your phone, your computer. Put down the laundry or dishes. It can wait. You are needed here and now. It's hard to not just ask for 5 more minutes or try to cut short the time she needs in favor of actually getting something done, but I am reminded that one day she won't be asking me for this extra attention and I will be looking for it. Relationships are most important. Phoebe already knows this.

My husband.  He has probably taught me more things in the 7 years I have known him than I can count. I always feel challenged by him in both positive and negative ways. But those challenges make me think and find better ways to respond. Much like Aiden, he forces me to stop and get onto a different level and think about the other side. Many times I do not enjoy it, but seeing it is helpful. I have learned that just because I take a higher road doesn't mean everyone is going to follow suite. I am learning when to keep quiet in matters that I feel strongly about because sometimes it benefits no one to speak up about it. There are many times that I find him to be the hardest part of my day, but despite that the frustration, it is not permanent and I have learned to forgive and not hold a grudge. He has shown me that no matter how old you are, there is no such thing as perfection and we are all going to fall short of someone else's expectations and there isn't any shame in that.

Marriage and family are hard work, but it's not without joy and happiness. I don't earn a paycheck, but what I do earn cannot be measured in monetary value. When naps don't happen or I have been pushed to my limits, I question what I am doing. I wonder what it would all be like if I hadn't signed up. Where would I be, what would I be offering this world? When I wake up rested I always remember those are such silly thoughts when my kids smile at me first thing in the morning.  When my husband gets home to change and kisses me. There really isn't anywhere else I would rather be, but managing all this craziness everyday.

The Life of the Mother

I wrote about my outrage and Colorado's current abortion laws just before the election in my last post.  I promised a couple of follow up topics that typically stem from the abortion debate and I think they both deserve some light and knowledge shed on the facts. I don't believe the abortion debate should be held by anyone who doesn't have basic knowledge of pregnancy biology as well as some facts about the topic of discussion.  It's hard to walk away from presented facts, you can argue them all day long against anything you like, but at the end of the day a fact remains a fact. Secondly, while I whole heartedly respect and understand the argument against abortion for religious/spiritual means, I do not believe this alone is going to win the hearts and minds of people.  After all, I can murder my neighbor, go to prison and find God and be absolved of what I have done in his eyes and still see myself go to a peaceful afterlife.

Sadly the majority of people I have had a debate on abortion with simply do not know facts. biology or numbers. This goes for both sides, those trying to save babies and those trying to dehumanize them. If you have a stance on something and want to change the minds of others you need to be able to present facts in an emotionally stable way. End of story.  You aren't changing anyone's mind otherwise.

Election season is a season of fear mongering and smut throwing and no topic sees it as intensely as the subject of women's reproduction rights, with abortion and birth control being at the top. The two biggest topics to abortion are: the life of the mother and rape/incest. We hear messages about not being able to terminate if we are going to die or if we are raped by strangers or by family.  Bombarded by messages of having our lives ruined by these two situations. "If candidate so-and-so has his way you will die from a pregnancy that was conceived by being raped by your brother". Yea, lets talk about that.

So today I am going to talk about the medical side of needing to terminate pregnancy. Yes it does exist, but not in a way the pro-abortionist would make you believe.  There are a number of conditions in which pregnancy could be said to not be compatible with the life of the mother.  This is a medical indication, not often a voluntary choice.

Ectopic pregnancy AKA tubal pregnancy occurs when a fertilized egg implants anywhere other than the uterus. Most often the Fallopian tube where fertilization takes place. About 1 in 50 pregnancies are believed to be ectopic. It is important to know that these pregnancies are not considered viable because typically there is not enough blood flow to support a developing baby. 50% of these pregnancies will absolve themselves through miscarriage. The rest will typically be treated with a cancer drug called Methotrexate. It stops the development of the embryo and the body will typically pass it on its own. If a tube has already ruptured, surgery will be necessary to  prevent the mother from bleeding to death.

Pre-eclampsia, eclampsia, HELLP syndrome are all conditions that can kill the mother. They cause sky rocketing blood pressure, seizures, liver failure and renal failure. These conditions occur after 20 weeks of pregnancy and the only way to stop progression is delivery of the baby. These conditions can kill a mother if left untreated. They do not abort for this condition, they deliver.

Cancer in pregnancy occurs 1 in every 1000 pregnancies. While the cancer typically doesn't effect the growing baby, clearly going without treatment can kill the mother. This is not a condition directly related to pregnancy.  The decision to terminate during pregnancy to treat the mother is going to depend upon the type of cancer and the treatment required as well as whether or not she would live without the treatment to endure pregnancy. I think this type of termination is medically indicated and not a choice when it comes down to a women leaving her spouse and family. This would be something clearly done before viability, much like ectopic pregnancy. Keep in mind there are many stories of women who do choose to sacrifice their lives to carry their baby to term and this is truly a conversation to be had with family and doctors, It leaves a family without a mother.

Chronic conditions such as blood disorders, severe epilepsy, previous organ transplant etc could very much indicate the inability to be compatible with pregnancy. However women with these conditions are typically told such and take measures such as birth control or sterilization to prevent pregnancy. In the event a woman should become pregnant after taking precautions to prevent it and her chronic illness is not compatible with pregnancy it typically becomes a medical emergency and steps are taken to save her life. Again this is not an example of elective abortion.

In most cases a women's life becomes at risk due to pregnancy complications that occur after a baby can be delivered and have a good chance at life. When it comes to medical termination it isn't fair to say its a "choice".  Often it is not and these procedures are done in a hospital as medically indicated. There is no where in this county where the doctors may legally put the life of an unborn child ahead of its very ill mother. Her life will always be preserved in the event of a life threatening emergency regardless of abortion laws.

This is not a topic that pro-abortionists need to debate. The chances of a woman dying in this country from not terminating when medically indicated is minute. You can find stories of women dying in other countries because they were denied what they call medically necessary abortions, but read further and you will discover other conditions that caused the death that more than likely would have killed her regardless.

So that's my stand on Life of the Mother abortions. Its not nearly as prevalent as organizations such as Planned Parenthood would  have you believe and in this country women don't die from being denied a medically indicated termination. They die from many other things, that's a whole new topic!





I want to add as a disclaimer that I searched and searched for percentages for each of these topics and all of them are lumped into terminations involving fetal defects. So there appears to not be a set % of pregnancies terminated for actual medical reasons. Clearly not as large an epidemic as they would have you think.

Its Still Legal, Are You Outraged?

Its election time.  The radio, the television and even the online adds are dominated by political adds. Many being candidates slamming the other for their hate of women and the right to do as they will with their bodies and that of their babies fetuses. It's getting old, really fast. Planned Parenthood has their cronies standing around encouraging people's votes, the few times I have been witness to it they have been gay men in pink shirts lobbying for "women's rights". It's really pretty sickening and discouraging to see. I see it as a destruction of womanly power. Telling women they can't be mothers, they can't make selfless choices through adoption.

I've got a bit of a series planned for this topic. Discussing abortion laws, abortion in rape and incest cases and abortion VS the life of the mother topic. But I want to talk about a bit about my pregnancy today, the biological factors and why abortion should be seen as ending life from scientific point of view as I think the majority of society gets bombarded by why G-d says you shouldn't.

As of this writing I am not quite 25 weeks pregnant. The approximate head to toe length is 12 inches and weight is somewhere near 1.5lbs.  At this point if I were to go into labor and deliver my baby would have a 50% survival rate. In three more weeks that survival rate increases to more than 90%.

                                                               (source Dailymail.co.uk)

The baby featured is a little girl named Skyler.  She was born in the UK at 25 weeks gestation. You can click the photo source to read the story.  I wanted you to see what a 25 week old baby fetus looks like before going on.  Go ahead take her all in. She's beautiful and alive.

In the state of Colorado at this very point in my pregnancy(almost 25 weeks) I can call the abortion clinic in Denver and have an outpatient abortion with no waiting period.

I will repeat that, the state of Colorado says is legal for me to abort my baby fetus until I am 26 weeks pregnant. With no medical condition, without claiming rape or incest.  I can do it just because I want to. Even better is I don't have to have my husband's consent to do so.

Colorado will even issue a death certificate to babies born after 20 weeks that showed "signs of life" such as: heartbeat and voluntary muscle movement with or without the placenta still attached via umbilical cord. And furthermore a certificate can be filed for parents wishing it before 20 weeks.

To preform a late term abortion in most cases a procedure called Dilation and evacuation( D&E) is preformed.  It takes a couple of days to dilate the cervix enough to get the tools used up there.  The baby fetus will be killed and chopped into pieces for removal.

From Wikipedia:

The first step in a D&E is to dilate the cervix. This is often begun about a day before the surgical procedure, and often involves the insertion of multiple laminaria sticks into the cervix. Enlarging the opening of the cervix enables surgical instruments such as a curette or forceps to be inserted into the uterus.^[2]

The second step is to remove the fetus. Either a local anesthetic or general anesthesia is given to the woman. A cannula is passed into the uterus. The cannula is attached by tubing to a bottle and a pump that provides a vacuum to remove tissue from the uterus. Forceps are inserted into the uterus through the vagina and used to extract any remaining tissue. This is more likely in pregnancies of 16 weeks or more. A curette is used to scrape the lining of the uterus and remove tissue in the uterus. Lastly, the vacuum is used to ensure removal of fetal body remains in the uterus (such fetal remains can cause serious infections in the woman). The pieces of the fetal body are also examined to ensure that the entire fetus was removed.^[2]

Pieces removed. Yea, can you imagine little 25 week old Skyler up there removed from her mother's body in pieces?  Sounds a lot like the steps a serial murderer would go through. 

Do you still view it as my bodily right to do so? Is it not killing? Is it still just a "lump of tissue and cells"? Do you find aborting a baby that can live acceptable? Is it still a woman's "choice" to do this?

I've talked before about prenatal appointments that check for life and what vitals are checked that clarify life. We argue that just because something hasn't taken its first breath must mean it has no right to life. Even with a heartbeat and functioning organs. Even though the first thing that is often checked when a pregnancy is discovered are signs of life such as growth and heartbeats.

I've seen vets refuse to spay a pregnant dog because it would be "killing the puppies".  I've seen people outraged over the thought of spaying a female dog because "its not the puppies' fault". Seriously folks, its no question a pregnant animal has life in her, but a woman and we question it.

Its simple biology folks, a heart is beating by the time that pee stick confirms your suspicion. Its growing and developing and becoming a fully functional person. There is no rocket science behind it, it doesn't take decades of studying fetal development to know its alive.  It's not a benign tumor in there. Its not some lump of cells that just grows without a map or reason causing destruction and death.

I've got a week and a half to make up my mind in Colorado about the life of my baby fetus. 

If you are on the side of pro-choice please do women a favor, pick up a book that describes  pregnancy week by week such as "Your Pregnancy Week By Week" or even the book "From Conception to Birth" by Alexander Tsiaras, a beautifully composed book that shows photos at every stage and text of development.  I have both of these books if you want to look.

The same goes for pro-lifers.  You cannot be effective if you don't know pregnancy inside and out. You need to be prepared to provide knowledge, education and resources.

Make sure what you are promoting you are doing so with an educated opinion. It is ignorant otherwise.

Growing Up Sick: Her Illness

This post is a pre-story to my feelings on being diagnosed with a disease that will more than likely never go away and get worse as I age. To understand why I feel the way I feel I have to go back to the way I grew up and the only experience I have with chronic illness, my mother's.



I remember she always bought caffeine free soda, didn't drink coffee or eat chocolate.  If she did get chocolate at the grocery store it was always white. I asked one time why she did these things and she told me it was because she had a heart problem.  Something called mitral valve prolapse. She said caffeine would make her heart beat too fast and it could make her very sick. That is my earliest memory of her illness that I would later discover in my adulthood to be a propagated lie. Caffeine and chocolate are now a staple of her life as she claims the prolapse went away.

Her illness really set in and took hold of our lives while our family was stationed in Hawaii in the early/mid 90's and she started going to the hospital by ambulance on what seemed to be a regular basis( I was about 11 at this point). One of my most vivid and scary memories of this time was when my dad picked my brother and I up from school and took us to see her at the hospital.  He told us they had to do a procedure where they cut open her leg and because of that she now had a wooden leg(thanks dad, scared the crap out of us). The procedure was a cardiac catheterization, something she would go on to have more times than I can count through out the life of her problems. It was at that point she started seeing a doctor more and more and she became more and more angry at them for not diagnosing her with something more serious than panic attack syndrome. She was absolutely convinced she had a major heart issue and no one was paying attention.  Our family suffered a great deal due to her delusions.

When we moved back state side to Colorado mom and dad divorced and we went on to struggle through her issues.  For a while it appeared to calm down and take a back seat to her needing to get straight enough to support my brother and I, but once it returned it came back with a very scary vengeance. It became a heart problem mixed with a very serious mental disorder that left my brother and I fending for ourselves and me dodging accusations of all kinds. Doctors continued to hold to their claim of panic attack disorder and she continued to fight them on it.  They put her on medication that she would take and then walk around the house acting as if she was hallucinating and seeing dead people. She would have to call in to work and recover from each episode.  The ambulance would continue to show up every time she had chest pains and was having a "heart attack".

At some point she became obsessed with how she looked. She began smoking and taking large amounts of diet pills.  Dropping weight quite rapidly. She began dating someone new before quitting her current relationship.  He found out and put us out of his house. Again, the health issues toned down as she needed to get her life back in order and didn't want to scare off her new love interest. Once he was hooked it all started again.  She continued to get thinner and thinner, she smoked more and more and was buying diet pills, shakes and foods like her life line. She was hardly even eating actual food at dinner time.

I was 17 years old when her first major heart incident happened that landed her in the ICU.  She tells everyone it was a heart attack, yet non of us actually heard those words from her doctor's mouth. I have absolutely no idea how many times after this we were in the hospital, how much work she lost and how much of her story was a lie. She wasn't quite 40 and the story she always told was," I always knew I was going to have a heart attack by the time I was 40."  She has maintained this belief until this day and tells everyone the doctors failed her by diagnosing her with panic disorder.

I've been blamed for her "heart attack", I was called insensitive when I stopped falling for the made up issues and unwarranted hospital visits. She's managed 3 surgeries for a pace maker, countless ER visits, being kicked out of one of the best cardiac clinics in town and has sucked countless people into her plight. She's claimed to have had "mini strokes" on a number of occasions, although we have never heard these words from doctors.  Her job has made up positions for her to fill over the years when she had FMLA status and was always missing work.  Why she was never let go I will never understand. I have been pulled back and forth like a rag doll and finally cut loose from her games for not buying it.  Often I am now the last to know when she's been hospitalized.

Looking over this and I realize this is a minuscule peek into the world of illness I have lived with her for more than 15 years. I've lost more memory of the things that have occurred to make space for the new than I can ever think to go back and retrace. But it all has left a lasting effect on the way I view illness in myself and others. Often I struggle with self acceptance and feeling sympathetic to those who are struggling with an illness they may have no say over. I am often numbed and angered by chronic illness. My life was shredded by something fabricated and self inflicted for a very long time and I still deal with its lingering effects.

Complaining Mothers

Taking on the role of mother is a full time job with ridiculous amounts of overtime. Hell, we never get to clock out. This goes for the woman who stays home as well as the woman who also juggles a job or career outside the home. It's full of crazy ups and downs. Days of extreme stress and disappointment. It exhausts you and energizes you. It's also more frustrating then any job I have held outside the home. So frustrating and stressful in fact that I often find the need to vent about the little beasts I am preparing for the world.

There's the all night wake ups, the extra early rising, the excessive bodily fluids, over the top screaming fits, random crying, head bonking, finger smashing and couch falling. There are days that the crying never seems to end and you can do nothing to make the kids happy. Days of loud music to drown it all out because you just don't know how much more crying you can take. Chores get neglected and you can't even remember when the last time was you ran the dishes, did laundry or cleaned your hair. This is just a small bit of what I deal with in my home with 3 healthy kids. Imagine the extra challenges of those dealing with special needs like Autism or physical disabilities.

So as a public service announcement I would like to say that as a mother I have a RIGHT to complain and vent my frustrations about raising my kids, my job as a mother. Just as any person holding a job has the right to vent about their frustrating day.  We don't need to hear:

Well you chose to have them

You choose to stay home with them.

Maybe you should have thought about that before having more.

You think it's hard now, wait till the next one comes.

No one said having kids was easy.

No one forced you to have them.



I could go on with the list of rude things uttered to women who just need to vent about raising their kids.  All things we wouldn't dare say to someone complaining about their bad day at work. I wouldn't tell someone,"well no one forced you to get a job, so what are you complaining for?"

A job is a job. Even if you aren't getting paid.  It's a role we take on voluntarily by applying, interviewing and accepting. No one is holding death threats to any of us and forcing us into a position  we don't want.

At this moment I am blogging on my iPad with a 1 year strapped on that is screaming, biting and pinching me. I hate it. Every single nite I deal with her overtired screaming fit because she won't sleep. It grates my nerves. I have no help until often after 6 to deal with it. I don't think I am required to grin and smile like I just LOVE being bit and scratched, but it's safer than letting her fall into walls and chairs.

So when an over tired mom friend calls or texts you to say she is going to go apeshit because her bratty as kids are making her batty, think about what you are going to say. Just because she doesn't take a salary doesn't mean she can't vent.

Lysol Kills 99.9% of Bacteria and Viruses

I bet you are expecting to read some great and gross story about something nasty my kids did with a title like that! Sorry, not the case.  I've been really trying to stay away from politically charged subjects and I have been too tired to blog. I deleted Facebook from my phone this week because I need a break from the over stimulation. But the recent Hobby Lobby decision has been hitting me hard in many ways, mostly the lies being spread about what has actually happened.  I am not really going to talk about that in detail, but instead talk about killing germs and viruses VS killing babies.  Sorry, heavy topic, but it should be said.

Viruses are made up of DNA and RNA, they only survive within living cells and because they don't contain all the aspects of "life" science considers them "organisms on the edge of life." Lysol kills them. Bacteria on the other hand are considered life. They were among the first life forms to appear on earth. There are believed to be 10 times the amount if bacterial cells than actual cells that make up the human body.  Lysol kills bacteria too.

It is very important to point out what science says about these two things, viruses are just on the edge of being life and bacteria are life. They are very firm in this.  You couldn't tell a scientist that bacteria wasn't a life form, yet science can't see to agree that a gestating fetus(baby) is a life form. They are still arguing over when it should be considered life, inside or out. But bacteria, life all the way! Life that Lysol kills.

For those of you that haven't had children yet or chose not to I am going to do some explaining about prenatal appointments.  Every single time you go your doctor or midwife they check for life via heartbeat. They often use something called a Doppler, a handheld ultrasound like device.  Or in the case of midwifery a fetal-scope, a special type of stethoscope to hear the heartbeat of the baby. This is often the first thing they do. They will check to see if baby is growing and how your body is handling things.  In the event of an emergency situation things like induction and C-sections are put into play to save the LIFE of the baby and/or mother. When the heart of a baby is found to have stopped it is said to have passed. As in life that is no more.

Clinical death happens when a person's heart stops beating and circulation ceases.  Biological death happens about 6-7 minutes later when the lack of oxygen kills brain cells. Death meaning dead. No longer alive. I don't think bacteria dies of clinical and biological death as they don't have lungs, hearts or brains. But they care capable of dying anyways, Lysol is good for this.

I've discussed all of that because people cannot seem to understand when life begins. Women and politicians especially don't seem to understand what life is. They are running around toting the thoughts about women's rights and the right to abort unwanted pregnancies. Babies in the womb are not protected as they are not considered life unless you want them to be alive. In many states you can "abort" a baby well past the time in which doctors would try to save its life if you were to give birth prematurely.  In Colorado for example outpatient abortion can be done up to 26 weeks of pregnancy.  There is an 80% survival rate for babies born this early, but at long as they aren't born its ok to abort it. THIS is a beautiful page full of babies born at 26 weeks and their after pictures as healthy children later.

Killing is defined as an act of causing death deliberately.  When I clean my kitchen and bathrooms with Lysol I am killing the bacteria living in them.  When I wash my hands with antibacterial hand soap after handling raw chicken I am killing the bacteria from that.  When I wash my cloth diapers in water so hot it will melt my skin I am killing the bacteria. When the flowers I fail to water die in the heat of the summer it can be said I killed them. When my chickens are done laying eggs I will kill them for food. When my dog gets too sick to be happy and experiences too much pain to walk I will take him to a vet to end his life.

A human embryo has beating cells that become the heart by day 14 of gestation, about the same time pregnancy first becomes detectable. By the time a fetus is 5 weeks old(7 weeks gestation) the heart is formed and pumping and can be seen via ultrasound in most cases. It is pumping blood through its very tiny body. This is a biological fact that exists in a women who can't fathom being pregnant and in a women who has struggled with fertility treatments and is over the moon about it. It is the same in the woman laying on a laying on a table getting an abortion and the woman laying on a table getting an ultrasound.  So why in one woman is it treated as nothing and in another treated as a great miracle? It's biologically the same.

Abortion is the act of killing something deliberately.  It is not murder because the government hasn't determined it to be illegal. A whopping 91% of abortions are preformed in the first trimester.  A trimester believed to just be a clump of cells that don't resemble life. I can tell you that bacteria don't look a lick like human life, yet the Lysol bottle very clearly states it KILLS it.

I don't care where you stand on the debate, pro-choice or pro-life. It should be agreed that abortion is the deliberate killing of life. This garbage where science can't figure out if a human fetus is life or not is for the birds and the biggest load of crap I have ever heard. Its time for politicians to stop encouraging women to kill their unborn babies with words like "empowerment" , "choice" and "rights".  Abortion should not be a socially acceptable way to deal with unplanned pregnancies.  The answer to stopping them is not in making them illegal, after all murder, drugs and guns in schools are all illegal and that doesn't stop them from happening. What does stop every other American from committing crimes is morals.  Abortion needs to become morally unacceptable. It's not about anyone's bodily rights.  Its about death.

I will never be the friend that holds your hand during an abortion and tell you I understand. I will never tell you you made the right choice to kill a perfectly healthy baby for the sake of not knowing any better.

I will however hold your hand and help you find a solution that preserves life.

If you deny an embryo or fetus the title of life, you deny science. If you deny an embryo or fetus the title of life you also deny God for those of you that believe.  All of us fall into one or the other category and sometimes both.

Words on Walls

If someone gave you a Sharpie and told you to write something someone said to you on your wall and you knew they would see it, what would write? If you were told to write it as big as you could so it would be harder to cover, what would it be? The thing that you wrote, would it bring shame and embarrassment to the person who said it? Would they run to the hardware store to get paint and brushes and try to cover it up? Or would they smile at what you chose and invite others to see it?

Inside each of us is a wall. It's the wall where the words of others are written.  Everyday we read the words on our walls. Most everyday new ones are written there.  But inside of us there is no hardware store to buy paint to cover the words that we don't want to read.  They stay on ours walls, sometimes becoming covered by more words, but we never forget the words covered up.  We cannot erase them.

If you were given a Sharpie to write something on someone else's wall knowing they could see it and would have a difficult time removing it, what might you leave for them?  Words of happiness or love?  Words  that would make you feel good sharing? Words you would like to see stay there forever? Or would you choose words of malice and anger? Words that would hurt and words you hope no one else sees?

You see, just because the words you speak do not show up on the walls of your home, doesn't mean they aren't permanent. You don't have to have them scrawled across in black Sharpie to have them remembered. All you have to do is speak them. They will forever be etched on the walls of the person in which you direct them.

I think if we knew our words were being written down so people could always go back and read them, we would be much more careful in what we say. If people walked into our homes and could read the dialogue within, we would think twice about attacking others and talking poorly about those around us.  How much embarrassment or shame would you suffer if someone saw all your words?

When we speak, we should speak our words as though they are being scrawled across the walls for all to view.  We should speak in a way they we would not feel shame or guilt if we were forced to read it later. We should remember that every word we say will remain on the walls of someone and while after time those words will be written on top of, they still exist underneath. They never go away.  They might leave your mouth, but that doesn't make them gone.

Motherhood, The Most Thankless Job

At 12 AM she woke up.  It was expected, she always wakes 12 to eat and goes back to sleep until 4.  At 12 AM she woke up and didn't go back to sleep.  I watched the clock hit 1. She still would not sleep. 3 AM and we were still awake together. Both unhappy, both desperate for relief. At 5 AM time started to feel like it was standing still, both of us crying. By 7 she could no longer stand it and fell asleep fitfully. So I laid her down and closed the door.

My kitchen a disaster from the nite before. Not having the energy to clean it up makes for a crappy feeling the next morning when you really don't have the energy, but I did it. The other one will be up soon and I will need to have room to make breakfast. It's quiet for the first time in about 8 hours, so I take advantage and work on a project that is taking too long to finish, I don't have time usually to work on it. The kids keep me busy. Tears streaming down my face as I try to push down how tired I am and take joy in some peace and quiet. I don't get many moments like this.

Every day I live my life for 3 little people. I chase them around to pick up after them and stop near disasters. I kiss boo boos and sooth sad hearts. I change more diapers than I like to think about and wash more laundry than I believe I have. I prepare food that so often ends up all over the floor and vacuum it all up when its said and done. I spend endless hours picking up, holding, carrying and moving kids.

There is no 10 minute break or 30 minute lunch to reset. No quiet bathroom breaks or down time. The hours just blend into another and time doesn't exist until the end of day when its time to usher everyone off to bed and I hope I might sleep that nite. Time I hope I might have to connect with my husband as we have so very little to do so. Its the heavy thinking time that I take a look around and try to remember what I did all day. I wonder how the house got so torn apart. I look at the clock and think about how lovely it would be to just sit down and stop, but there is too much still to do and I cannot check out just yet.

At the end of a mother's day there is rarely a Thank-You. Being a mother just is.  You just do it day in and day out. There is no pay raise, no vacation. There are no quarterly reviews or awards handed out.  I am always left wondering if there is something I could have done better, done more of. Did I make the most of my time? So often I feel like there isn't much to show for it.

I sit here typing as two girls are actually sleeping at the same time.  I don't dare lay down myself because I know how terrible I will feel when I am forced to wake up. There are toys and Cheerios from the front door to the kitchen. There are coats and clothes all over the couch and dishes in the sink. Laundry in the dryer, diapers in the wash.  I don't know where to start. I think about the bag of crochet projects I have started, but cannot find the time to finish. The books I want to read that I simply cannot get to. I cannot help but think of the special ingredients in my pantry that go unused for recipes I wanted to make, but settle for less at the end of the day because I cannot do anymore.

When my day is through no one will thank me for a job well done.  No one will congratulate me on the efforts I put forth raising my kids. No one will recognize the sacrifice it is to be a parent.  I will just continue on with  the millions of other mothers who find themselves struggling to just get to the end of day only to start a new day in just a few hours. I will remind myself of the amazing people I am raising and that this is not all for nothing. I will tell myself and hear my husband remind they won't always be this small while I rock the baby back to sleep for the 4th or 5th time. I will be reminded that someday I will miss these days. I will hold onto the hope that I am doing a good enough job now that someday they will thank me for choosing to stay and be with them while they were young. Thank me for being their mom.

Today my job is thankless, but maybe tomorrow it won't be.

What is Leadership and What is Discipline?

Leadership VS Discipline, are they the same, can they work together, and what exactly do they mean? It's a hot topic in my house lately and frankly probably any household with kids old enough to tell you where they think the bear craps in the woods. Parenting is full of huge grey areas, Hell who am I kidding the damn mess is a grey area!! There is no real black and white manual and over the years it has morphed and changed. As we become more modern with less time and more disconnected from family, its easy to see why we have short cuts and short comings with parenting. What we do today is probably not even a shadow of how things used to be when people didn't have all the modern distraction of today. Families aren't flowing together, instead we are all working against each other and our inner nature to try to make things fit the way we are having it sold to us.  This is were understanding the real definitions of leadership and discipline come into play.

I am going to use the Army standard of leadership(for you my sweet).  The Army defines leadership as:

 “the process of influencing people by providing purpose, direction, and motivation while operating to accomplish the mission and improve the organization.”

 Lets change "people" to spouse/kids and change organization to Family.  So now we are influencing our kids and spouses to improve the family.  That makes a lot of sense.  We don't want outside forces having a stronger influence on it, so we need to make sure we are the ones providing it.  Lets start breaking this down.

Influence is the power to change or effect someone or something: the power to cause changes without directly forcing them to happen.

That's powerful.  Being able to change someone without force.  Basically being such a strong presence that they would want to make the changes and do as you guide them or on the flip side be so turned off they are influenced into the opposite direction.

Purpose is the reason why something is done or used, its the feeling of being determined to do or achieve something.

Influence with purpose, that means having a plan or goal you are trying to get to without force.

Direction is the path or course in which something is moving.

Ok now we are guiding the way down a path toward a goal without forcing people into it.

Motivation is the act or process of giving someone a reason for doing something.

I think with that we can define family leadership as guiding our kids/spouses down a planned path toward an end result while showing them why its such a good idea.  Sounds like a lot of work, but that's what a leader does, works for a common end goal. With a family we are working towards guiding our kids into functioning adults, helping our spouses work out problems and even moving the whole household into a cohesive unit. None of that can be done without a good positive influence.  Everyone is going to run opposite directions otherwise.  You can't force people to like your ideas, you have to show them why your ideas are so good to begin with and you have to be the model of your anticipated end result; IE functioning adult.

I think leadership is probably a GREAT family value to have, providing it's done correctly and people are benefiting and goals are being met.

Now I am going to move onto discipline.  We all say it, do it and suggest it, but what is discipline exactly and how does it play a role in family life?

I believe in most situations when we think of discipline we think of it in the following context:

gaining control by requiring that rules be obeyed and punishing bad behavior.

I think that's a fair representation when we think of disciplining our children. We do something to our kids to make them pay for their infractions and we call it discipline and we call it just.

Lets take a look at the meaning of punish.

To punish is to make someone suffer for a crime or bad behavior.

Yes, your kid breaks the rules you do something to them, spank maybe? Ground them? Take away time from the TV or their game station in an effort to make them suffer for doing bad. This is after all how the American justice system works and they got at all right, right? 

To suffer is to experience pain, something unpleasant or to become worse because of being badly effected by something.

Ouch, that looks nasty. Pain, unpleasantness and being adversely effected.  

Pain is the physical feeling caused by something that hurts the body, its mental or emotional suffering or something that causes or makes trouble for you. 

It's not getting better.  So discipline is the act of causing physical pain or mental suffering for rule breaking. When our children are born has it ever crossed our minds ONCE to purposefully cause them harm?  Have we ever thought that harm would make them great people? Are we great parents when we cause harm to others? 

That's the definition of discipline as we know it to cause change in behavior at the time.  There is another for discipline. 

A way of behaving that shows a willingness to obey rules or orders

That's called self discipline. A behavior you show.  I know being a leader takes self discipline. Always doing the right thing in efforts to influence others to follow in your steps. 

Leadership and discipline have VERY obvious different meanings and quite clearly cannot coexist. Taking the leadership role in your family means showing them what you believe and why its so important, it means giving your family a path and helping them navigate it. Being a disciplinarian means reacting to what you haven't approved and causing harm to get your way and leaving no lesson learned ad learning is not part of discipline.  A good leader doesn't harm his people.

Being a self disciplined leader is clearly optimal, it means standing up to yourself in the face of defeat, failure, and disappointment, being ok with it and driving on with changes in the game plan to get back on path. Its time we all really sat and looked at ourselves and decide what we are lacking and how we can fix it and be better families and be proud of the hard work we put into raising the next generation.  

New Year 2014

Happy New Year!  I am a few days late, but I have good reason.  I hope everyone has set "resolutions" they can stick by and be proud of at the end of this year which will no doubt go as fast as 2013. We typically do not set any resolutions, as goals can be set and met at any time during the year. This year though is a little different.  We did decide on some pretty significant things we needed to get serious about and decided to just go ahead and use January 1 as a start date. Skip's retirement is 2 1/2 years away and will be here before we know or are ready for it. We basically have 3 areas of focus: finances, clutter and health.

With retirement in just 2 1/2 years away decided to get serious about living on a reduced budget and be prepared for less frivolous spending.  We have a few bills to pay off. That will be easy to get done.  We decided we needed to be in a habit of less spending simply because we have a house in Virginia that Skip purchased as a fixer upper. He lived in it for less than a year before being stationed in Korea and then being sent to Colorado.  By the time we actually move into it he will have owned it for 10 years without having really fixed up anything.  We have a lot of work ahead and its going to cost a lot of money. So we have just decided to set forth a serious plan of action to prepare for that.  Maybe should have thought about it a while ago, but better late than never and we really did try to sell it.

This is what we are adjusting for. I love it. 

Currently we live in a 3 story, 2400 square foot home.  Unreal.  Given when we met we could fit all we owned in a 500 square foot apartment! Then we moved into a 980 sq ft home and had lots of room.  From there we moved onto Kansas to 1400 sq ft and had a TON of room.  I have no idea how we end ed up here with all this crap, but it has to go.  So we are going to be doing some serious downsizing of stuff.  The house in Virginia is only 1400 sq ft.  All this junk isn't going to fit.  I am most excited about this part of things.  There is so much  here that we just aren't using and really doesn't need to be wasting all this space.

And last, but definitely not least is health.  We do try to be as healthy as possible, but a lot of things have been put on the back burner and we need to make more effort bringing forth healthy habits. Things like gluten, sugar and overindulgence have made their ways back into our lives and it's not working out for us. We have some more family plans, hiking and a big camping trip planned and we really need to get in gear. I have serious personal goals that  I simply must meet as putting them off or being fine with not doing them can no longer be an option.  I will keep this subject updated on as I make progress.  I am 7 days into making a habit of doing better.  So I think I am on top of it this time.  Time is going to pass whether I do something about it or not, so I better just get it done.

It's all very exciting for us this year.  I am very much looking forward to progress.  I hope whatever goals you have set yourself to treat you well and you have the encouragement and drive to achieve them! Here's to 2014.

Thoughts on 30

My 30th birthday is in 12 days! (also you have 11 days to finish your Christmas shopping, better get crackin') I will not be 29 again.  I will not be 29+1 nor will it be a depressing day to skip. I will be 30 and I seriously couldn't be happier about it. Yea, I am crazy I know, but its a good day for me.  After turning 21 I realized being "so young" just wasn't all it was cracked up to be. No one took me seriously, I was lacking life experience I so desperately wanted(and probably needed) and honestly I hated hearing people with so much more wisdom than I saying they "missed being so young". I didn't get it. I would not relive my 20s.

So many people heard me say,"I can't wait to be 30." I've said it over and over again.  I cannot wait! I was asked a few weeks ago how I felt about it and I've really put some thought into it. I have never been more at ease with my peers. I feel like the closer I have gotten to 30 the more I am fitting in with people my age.  I don't know what it is, but everyone seems calmer, more grounded and easier to get along with. I did not experience that from my young 20 something peers. I've disliked meeting people in that age group. I don't understand them and feel awkward, that's never changed. I feel more at ease with myself.  I am not concerned with body image at all. I am pretty damn happy in my skin.  I don't feel like I have to put on a show or look a certain way.  Judge away judgers! At the end of the day I have a great family to come home to and they don't care.  I am finally feeling like an adult.  I feel like people don't blow off the things I have to say because I am too young to know.

I've got 3 great kids right now.  It's not always easy, but I am really in love with being a mom. I wish I would  have had 3 in my early 20s.  Maybe I would have found my way sooner, but kids come with age, another reason to love 30 so much! They have grounded me big time and I really don't feel so high strung and freaked out. My husband probably helps that too I am sure.  Marriage is also another reason to love 30.  Its maturing and we are entering new places and finding new ideas together. It's fabulous.  And I like not hearing,"You're too young to be married"  Nope, don't hear that anymore!

30 is not old. Its nothing to be ashamed of.  I will never be 29 again, don't want to or need to be. I will proudly be a 30 year old women.  I've got 10 years till 40, and I'll be back writing about the awesomeness that I know will come with it. Until then, my ladies turning 30 with me, love it!! Embrace it and know you are awesome too!

Motherhood Is...

GLAMOROUS!

Ok, maybe not the first word that comes to anybody's mind when you ask them what motherhood is in one word. What's not amazing about not brushing your hair for 3 days, pulling it back and hoping no one has noticed? Or hoping maybe they don't see it hasn't been washed for who knows how long. What's not more appealing than a shirt worn more times than you can remember because grabbing it up off the floor in a mad dash to a screaming kid is the only option? Then forgetting to change it later. 

Then there's the snot, the spit, the food, the baby vomit and stuff you don't really know about that often migrates to your outfit.  How long has that been there?!  Oh well, you'll change it later. Or how about when you leave the house and think,"Oh carrying the baby will cover that up."  

That shirt is a real life story! It's my shirt as a matter of fact.  I spent all of last week battling boogers and grumpies.  Also the regular eruptions of Phoebe's immature digestive system.  Then there on the sleeve, that shiny dark stuff? That's blood.  Not even all of it.  Fiona decided some dishwasher diving off the top of a couple rolling pins would be fun...don't worry she's ok. 

I had no idea I looked like this until my husband looked and asked what had happened to me.  I laughed and said,"Life with kids."  So I took a picture and decided to share the glamour of motherhood.  The extra accessories your kids will leave you with at the end of day.  It's awesome.  

Maybe, glamorous isn't quite the right word, but it makes it easier to laugh at the end of day!