quiet chaos

the ancient oil tank in our basement sprung a leak, and the resulting fumes found us scrambling to pack up diapers, food, and clothes and camp out in one of camp's retreat cottages for a few nights.

"we're going on an ADVENTURE!"  was dylan's gleeful mantra.  she was a trooper and enjoyed trying out a new big girl bed.  we swaddled james into a little bundle on the floor, and jim and i squeezed into a cozy twin bed for two nights.

all things considered, it wasn't a bad way to spend two snowy days.  we didn't have to pay for a hotel or be confined to one room, and it was nice to get a break from tv and computers and have more time to read and rest.

we are happy to be back at home now.  well, the three of us are are home; jim is back on the road for a conference.  we got enough snow that they cancelled church while jim was packing up to go away.  again.

the fumes were worrisome, mostly because no one seemed to be able to determine the toxicity.  we soaked up the oil and some of the smell with saw dust and soda ash, but you can't really do much about the oil that has soaked into a concrete foundation.

i called the non-emergency police line to ask about hazmat, and they didn't even return my phone call.  i called the fire department, and they sent two volunteers to check things out, but they didn't have any advice about air quality.  the oil company couldn't be reached, and the guys who installed the new tank didn't know anything either.

we aired out the house while we were gone, and i don't smell anything right now, but i'm still not thrilled.  i plan to get a few more houseplants, because supposedly they can purify the air a bit, but i don't know they they can do anything about petroleum fumes.

anyone have any wisdom for me?

the fallacy of colorblindness

i see color.  we all do.

why then, is it so common among white people to pretend that we don't?  to insist that equality is sameness or that talking about differences is wrong?

have you every been talking with someone who is describing another person, and suddenly their voice inexplicably falls to a whisper, and they say "black" like they weren't supposed to notice?

according to the popular melting pot, colorblind worldview, everyone is the same and recognizing differences is somehow inherently racist.

but we're not all the same, are we?  we are equally deserving of rights and respect, of course--but it's foolish to presume or pretend that we all share the same perspective, experience, or access.

refusing to acknowledge color is a luxury enjoyed exclusively by people who've never been on the receiving end of personal or systemic racism.

when white people insist that all people are the same and color doesn't matter, we're choosing to ignore racial inequalities (that we may benefit from) and the unearned privileges that we take for granted and others lack.  we ignore minority stories in favor our our own imagined narrative.

if we want to move forward from past and present injustice, we can't pretend our way out.  white people need to be willing to have hard conversations about race and actually listen to perspectives of people of color.

a few years ago, i remember asking a white acquaintance who was internationally adopting a black child how she could help her child get a sense of a racial and cultural identity they did not share.  she essentially said that it would be a non-issue, since her child's primary identity was as a child of God.

how could a child's race and the obvious fact that she looked different than her family and most of her community not be an issue?

kristen, over at rage against the minivan, is mother to two white and two black children, and she has an interesting post about race, parenting, and pre-schoolers that is worth reading:  "our colorblind era of denial is not serving our children well," she says.

how do you teach your kids to be inclusive and to appreciate differences?  how do we all begin to have the kinds of conversations about race that allow us to be vulnerable, awkward, and real?  if we live in homogeneous [segregated?] communities, how can we begin to dissolve the prejudices in ourselves--and prevent passing them down to our children?

food, shelter, and what was that last one?

after dropping dylan off at the neighbors, i was feeling pretty pleased with myself that i was going to be on time for james' well-child exam.

having only one kid meant i could trade the bulky diaper bag for my smaller purse.  it was a little warmer today, so i planned to carry him in his sling, forgoing the bulky carseat that i hate lugging around.

with james on my chest and my purse over my shoulder, i felt downright light walking into the doctor's office.

a little too light as it turned out.

i got into the office and began undressing him.  the nurse began the barrage of questions that make a mama feel alternately good (yes, he's grasping, yes, he's sleeping in his own bed, yes, he sits up assisted); guity (no, i don't know infant cpr); and a little defensive (of course my husband's rifle is locked.)

then i made an unpleasant discovery: 

james' diaper had exploded up his back and through his outfit and blanket, and i'd neglected to bring a change of clothes in the little purse i was so glad to be carrying moments before.

awesome.

the nurse found a baby hospital gown to wrap james in after his exam.  it didn't seem like the warmest thing to wear out of the office, so i had to leave james with her while i ran to get the carseat.

i then strapped my bare-legged, barefoot baby into his carseat wearing nothing but the tie-on gown and a knit apple hat.  at least james' carseat had a wooly blanket to zipper around him like a little sleeping bag.

i'm fairly certain i got a big "unprepared" for today's exam.

at least two out of three of my child's basic needs were met today.  it would be a fantastic batting average.  i wonder if the nurse made a note of that in her question database...


(linked to keeping it real)

in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

a little anniversary crept by yesterday, so quietly i almost didn't realize it.

i've been writing "so much shouting, so much laughter" for two years.

when i started, i didn't know a thing about blogging.  i didn't even read any blogs, except for an occasionally updated one by a former pastor.

i didn't know anything about html or widgets or seach engine optimization. (not that i know much about that now.)

i just knew that i needed to write.

one night, i came home from a weekend away, and started a blog.  just like that.  if i had to do it all over again, i probably would have imagined a shorter title, but i'm not changing it now.  it's a line from an ani difranco song.

i had a baby who wasn't quite three months old.  i needed a place where i was a mom, but not only a mom.

because i was still so many other things.

a woman.

a thinker.

a christian.

a writer.

i wanted a place where i could articulate my passions and wrestle through life and faith.  and i wanted to share about my family with loved ones who are too far away. 

this place began as a journal of this moment in time.  Lord knows i was never going to scrapbook;)

a felicitous and unforeseen benefit of blogging has been connecting with other women:  misty, michelle, penny, dorothy, tami, kelly, kelli, jenney, becky, heather, and more than i'm sure i'm forgetting.

if you had told me two years ago that blogging would create relationships with strangers in other parts of the country and across the world, i would have told you that was insane.

what kind of creeper becomes "friends" with people online?

um, apparently me, and i'm grateful for the connections, especially during a season of life that can be achingly isolating.

being home all day with tiny people is lonely.  and wonderful.  but lonely, nonetheless.

this space has made the distance seem narrower.

thank you, friends, for journeying along this pilgrim's way these past two years.  i'm so grateful for your company.

"He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy." (Job 8:21)

snowpocalypse

7 days of school

1 play date

2 lunches

1 MOPS meeting

1 shrove tuesday pancake dinner

1 ash wednesday service

1 steering team meeting

All Cancelled

it started snowing on friday february 5

AND.IT.NEVER.STOPPED

for the love

i don't remember the last time i exercised

i just keep baking

and eating

i went to aldi's today

and got bloodwork done at the hospital

and i almost peed my pants i was so happy to be out of the house

i know it's lame to complain about the weather

i mean, it IS winter and all

i'm thankful to have a warm house

and a bed

and two sweet kids to cuddle up with

but i am SO looking forward to spring

buyer beware

i bought a little bird oil to use on dylan's skin.

bird oil, you ask?

about that...

dylan has a patch of eczema on the back of her knee, and dry winter heat has not been kind to it (no matter how much we run that humidifier.)  what was once a tiny patch is taking over her little knee pit, and she keeps scratching it raw.  i've tried jojoba oil, aquaphor, vaseline, apricot oil, and shea butter, and while some things provide temporary relief, nothing was truly cutting it.

so, while browsing online, i came across a product called "eczema oil."  it's ingredients were kukui nut oil, emu oil, and jojoba oil.

sounded great! 

jim was there when i opened the package.

"emu oil?  like the bird?"

"nooooo...emu is a plant or something.  right?"

a little google search revealed that emu oil is, in fact, from australian emu birds.  and it's it's known to be really healing and anti-inflammatory.

the verdict?  it's awesome.  her knee looks great, and both kids' chapped winter cheeks seems to like it too.

yep, i'm putting bird oil on their little faces.

and i like it.

good thing we're not vegan;)

(this post is linked to works for me wednesday.)

on birth and babies

there is an interesting post over at crunchy domestic goddess this week on the way natural childbirth is portrayed in the media.  she also links and reacts to a video of a scheduled cesarean that the today show aired live last week, and it's worth checking out, too.

giving birth is an accomplishment and a miracle, whether medicated or natural, at home or in the hospital, with a doctor or a midwife.  there is no one "right" way to give birth.  i do think, however, that women are culturally conditioned to fear natural childbirth--and we don't need to be.  we're afraid we won't be able to do something our bodies were created to do, and we may not consider the risks of certain interventions.

"birth story" details to follow.  so you know.

i'd wanted to have dylan naturally.  maternal drugs get to the baby through the placenta, and even if they are considered safe, i knew that they can interfere with a baby's interest in breastfeeding, and i didn't want to create any barriers.

my contractions began intensely and at five minutes apart right off the bat.  after a sleepless night at home, we went to the hospital a 8 AM, only to discover that i was barely dialated.  they weren't even sure they wanted to admit me.  i labored there for hours with jim and our doula, who helped me to relax as best i could.  i walked the halls (thankful to not be hooked to an IV), labored on a birth ball, and tried all sorts of positions.  my contractions grew closer and more intense, but they still weren't progressing my labor.

around 3 pm, after 13 hours of active labor, i was still at only 1 cm, and i had a epidural in order to rest and gather strength.  i labored without pain for a few hours and my cervix finally dialated, but when it was time to push, i didn't have all my sensation back, and my body just didn't know what to do.  i must have heard "just one more push!" dozens of times, and each time i grew more discouraged.  finally, my midwife performed the episiotomy i had not wanted, so that they could get dylan out--at 8:50 PM.

i was so exhausted (and i think partially traumatized) that i barely remember those first few minutes after dylan was born.  thankfully, i came out of my "baby daze" and was able to hold and nurse her soon after birth, but it was a long and painful recovery that in many ways was harder than labor and delivery.

james was born naturally, and it was such a different birth experience. with him, my contractions never got to five minutes apart (the magic number that is supposed to signal a trip to the hospital.)  contractions came and went.  by dinner they were coming more regularly, and by 8 PM, they were really intense.  we watched glee, i focused on my breathing, we went to bed.  i tried to rest but couldn't.   my contractions were fierce, and sometimes they'd be spaced at five minutes, but then i'd have a bit of a longer respite.

at midnight, even though they weren't completely regular, my contractions were painful enough that i no longer wanted to labor at home.  this was my second baby, it was a 40 minute drive, and i did NOT want to have a baby in the car!  we woke up a friend to come stay with dylan and left for the hospital at 1 AM.

we called the hospital to say we were coming in and later learned that they did not call my midwife--who lived an hour away!--until after i arrived.  we checked into a room at 2 AM.  i was seven centimeter dialated and progressing rapidly.  this baby was ready, but my midwife didn't arrive until after 3:30.  she didn't even get her lab coat on before telling me to push!

pushing was short and productive, and she put our sweet boy into my arms immediately (at about 4 AM).  i held and nursed james for over an hour in the early morning stillness before they even weighed him or cut the cord.  we enjoyed the loveliest, quietest family time together, and i cherish those memories.  i didn't need an episiotomy, and my recovery was remarkably easier.

my natural birth and recovery were significantly easier than my medicated one.  we read books about the bradley method and used strategies we learned there to manage pain--and it made a huge difference.  having a doula for a first birth (whose focus is entirely on the mother's care) is something i wish for every new mom aiming for a natural childbirth.  i also really appreciated our midwives, who really listened and offered wonderful care.  with our insurance we didn't pay anything for prenatal care or our natural hospital birth--a blessing that cannot be understated in these days of bankrupting health care bills. 

any thoughts you want to share about your birth experiences?  do you think the way childbirth is portrayed on tv or in the movies affects the choices women make?  did anyone see that c-section piece on the today show?  what did you think?

sweet as pie

this is the dear face that greets me happily every morning.  what a treasure.