disclaimer or something

A mummy-hand holding, (former) biker gang affiliating, hippie influenced semi crunchy granola mom's ramblings and reminisings on an off-kilter life

Wednesday, July 31, 2013


Here I am, stuck at home 'cause when "civilization" (you know, Target, Trader Joes, ethnic restaurants) is almost an hour away, and you have a tantruming toddler and a newborn, you can't go anywhere. It's not like I can stop in the middle of a winding mountain road to just breastfeed one and soothe the other, but  I digress...

I was tryng to come up with what to blog about to pass the time and I started to reach into my past. I began to think about my mistakes (as in past boyfriends and all the accompanying drama) and though, "jackpot, blog material". But then I realized that stuff is much to personal, emotional, and overall crappy to be sharing with the world. Just my thinking about thinking about it made me feel remorseful  and murky and likap e, why did I do all that? What the heck was wrong with me?

But then I looked over at my toddler who refuses to nap and is working my last, sleep deprived nerve. i glanced over at my napping newborn thinking, "why do you nap all day and fuss all night?!?!" And yet, even with this exasperation of motherhood, I feel blessed.

Why question why things happen? Why beat yourself up over the past? Don't. Know that somehow all that past played into the present and the present is awesome. You got here. You are loved. You give love. Life is beautiful, even that toddler kicking you is beautiful because he is love and joy. Even the crying newborn is love and joy. So are you.

Sometimes things happen or don't happen for a reason, a reason you may never know, but you just have to accept it.

 Sometimes you have to lose yourself to find yourself.

Sunday, July 28, 2013

People of Walmart, Beware

I have a sick fascination with people watching, so websites like People of Walmart and Awkward Family Photos tickle my perverse fancy. The only thing is, I am filled with trepidation when opening these websites, holding my breath thinking, "Oh dear God please don't let one of my family members be on here".

Today, my paranoid fears have been validated and oddly, I couldn't have been prouder. Not only did I ponder upon a family member, but almost an entire side of my family, including myself. And I couldn't be more elated. We're hillbilly famous, y'all! People are thinking "thank God that isn't my family" and perfect strangers across the world are LOLing about my special family. Awesome!

My awkward family
So without further ado, http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/contests/awkward-vacation-photo-contest/cruise-control-3/

And yep, "defeated preteen cousin who hates family photos" is me folks. Cause that's how I roll. Walmart, beware, my family is coming to a store near you.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

You Give Yourself Away

The song With or Without You has a profound resonance with my soul; it is a song I dedicate to my youngest son who at this very moment is but four days old.

If you are familiar with the song, you might wonder how it could possibly be a song to dedicate to a beloved newborn, and how it relates to my soul. So take the journey with me if you please.

I was in labor, nearing transition-a very painful place when unmedicated. To help soothe me, my husband put on Pandora, to a Dido mix (my zen music) and I tried to focus in on the music. My contractions strengthened quickly. I could tell I was ready to push and the nurses did not believe me so they left to help other patients.

me and my second son, brand-new
U2 came on and I remember the sunlight filtering in, my husband and I talking about how we loved the song, and I began to hum the tune and...I was hit with a contraction so immense that the contraction seismograph went off the chart, literally, knocking the baby heart monitor off (meaning fetal distress) and sending in a crowd of nurses at breakneck speed. Well, this part I do not recall, as I nearly lost consciousness and hollered a devilish roar as I bore down to push. The song continued to play but I could hear nothing but my screams.

A few minutes later, I gave birth to a beautiful boy. With or Without You represents a very immensely painful moment, but a miraculous life-changing moment I will never forget, a blessed moment...words cannot describe it accurately, but it resonates with my soul and makes me break down in tears of joy at even the first few chords. It means so much to me.

For my full birth story visit http://disorderlywanderlustblog.blogspot.com/2013/07/and-then-there-were-two.html

Saturday, July 13, 2013

And then there were two

Two little boys I can now call my own. In addition to son # 1 aged two, I have a brand new boy.

I had either Braxton hicks "practice contractions" or very early labor beginning at midnight, a dull ache like a menstral cycle. Around 3 I decided to time them, they weren't exactly painful just nagging and happened every 5-10 minutes. By 5 I got up to take a bath and it offered no relief, but I was able to put my cooled canned pickles away, feed the pets, function normally. Then I woke the family and we headed near the hospital (an hour away) around 7.

My son went to grandmas and my pains hasn't increased so we went to Starbucks and I got a yogurt which I devoured, and a few sips of Chai. I'd need the caffeine, having not slept one bit.

And then, we walked and walked and walked. Around Target where my pains got enough to slow me down during one. Then up to the bookstore and back. Then around downtown and into a bakery where I ate a dry gluten free cookie, my pains a bit worse but still not stopping me. I might slow my pace or straighten my lips that was it. Then around Walmart twice, where things got consistent, 5 minutes, and then around the grocery store, and finally the hospital.

By about 11 I was in triage with a nurse from my town and somehow we went to school together yet knew no same people....until...her mom! Her mom is my son's speech teacher! Anyways I was 5cm 80% effaced -2 station and let into labor and delivery. My pains were worse now but the kind you can meditate through.

At about 12:30 the doctor broke my water and shortly after, I was 8cm and +1 station.

At about 1, 1:30 the pains got bad. I was in transition and I began to moan in pain, with contractions 3 minutes apart and lessening. I tried yoga breathing, envisioning the pain going through me and out my feet. My husband, once a competitive weight lifter, gave my feet resistance and he said my adrenaline for e was up to 500 pounds or more!

Things got quicker and worse and around 2 I was in the worst pain ever...so far. I called for a nurse and I was not quite ready to push, baby hadn't turned and I still had some...whatever, in his way, so I was put on my side. Very shortly after, I phoned the nurse, I'm ready to push I can tell but not feel it. They come, blow it off., and leave. Suddenly I get this pain I cannot even get words for, like everything was being ripped apart, smashed, stabbed, shoved back in at once. Like I was imploding and exploding the universe. I began to holler and growl and nurses of every kind ran in and I somehow was able to say I am pushing! The doctor was not there so they said no you cannot push wait for him. I grunted out that something was gonna get pushed, then I let out a banshee cry like I was possessed, the pain got even worse and....I pooped. I told them I was going to push and something would come out. See it could have been baby but they said no, and what happens instead?

They patted my face as I seriously began to go to some other planet, look at us, they said, don't push, center, focus in something, breathe. They repeat this mantra as I sadly poop even more, mumbling sorry when I could, screaming
a hellish guttural roar when I couldn't.

I somehow see the clock and 2: 25 to 2:30 etch into my mind ( my glasses off, my best vision is 20/400 so the time was etched yet fuzzy). I see the doctor arrive in a moment where I am here on Earth, and I begin flailing my legs for the stirrups yet to be there, I became some deranged giant squid of lore. Finally they say push and also hold here, foot here, hand here, push, pull, breathe, no screaming, look at us, center, focus...I am lost in the sea of chaos, body parts moving everywhere, hands grabbing me, a blur of faces so pinning around me like a pay psycho circus. I can't differentiate myself from the doctor, nurses, my husband. I'm no longer human. I hear "you can do this" from one nurse and I push some more. Time stops and reverses and I hear a deafening ungodly roar come from me but not in my own volition. I feel shoulders bigger than mine "down there" and hundreds of glassy razor sharp jagged points. I'm giving birth to a 6 foot tall, six foot wide thing made only of corners! I push some more and that hellish roar returns and I am stuck on repeat, mind over body, body over mind, me somewhere else. Then I hear "one more push" right as I want to give up, right as the worst pain ever hits me. I hear "open your eyes and push. I see a yellow and blue head and torso twisting out and I can feel everything and pop! Swoosh! A baby is placed on my belly, a teeny boy so small I think he can fit in my hand. It feels unreal.

At 2:35 he made his way into the world, my arms, my heart.

The silly thing, since numbers fascinate me (even if I loathe and fear math) is with my oldest son, I was in triage at, you guesses it, between 10:30 and 11:00 and transition around noon and I have birth to him a 2:44, 38 weeks and 6 days pregnant. This time around, 38 weeks, 6 days pregnant. A whopping 9 minutes difference in active labor, down to the day. My husband says I am like a turkey timer! The doctors and nurses were all impressed by my speediness and actually, minus those last moments of poop and otherworldly screams, how well I did.

I did it. 100% natural. The worst and best hours of my life. And now I am a proud mama to two gorgeous guys!

Friday, July 12, 2013

Real or false who knows

I had Braxton hicks practice contractions aka BH since midnight and its 8am. But maybe since 3 am it's been real but early labor as its crampy, more crampy than period cramps more like really bad food poisoning cramps. Every 5-10 minutes.

So I'm sitting outside Starbucks near the hospital waiting it out as I f***ing hate hospitals and dread a 24 hour stay plus what up to 24 hours labor if I go in.

I dread being told its a false alarm.

So I'm waiting it out for a bit.

I'm very tired from not sleeping.

My son is at my MIL's and I worry for how he's gonna do but I can't worry you know? Gotta worry about myself right now.

So annoyed by this sorta-labor. With my son it was intense, more painful than what I have now, every 5 mins like clockwork, and my water broke an hour before the contractions so it was freaking obvious.

This time around its so...vague and annoying.

Monday, July 8, 2013

The Waiting Game

I'm waiting, waiting, waiting..... for baby #2 to arrive. I don't recall being quite as "c'mon! I'm waiting" impatient with my first child, but then again I was finishing my MA degree, a semester as an administrator in a school, and the rush of the holidays were upon us so I didn't have time to get impatient. Now I'm jobless, not in school, no holiday rush...all there is is time. Time to get imnpatient. And everyone keeps asking, "when ya' having that baby?" Like I have a freaking clue. Or, "how are you feeling? Any different today?" as if I would feel different before labor. I mean, with my son I felt completely normal, did dishes, decided to take a bath to waste time before the library opened and.... my water broke. Then contractions began an hour later. I'd had conversations that morning with family asking that same questions, "do you think today is the day? Do you feel any different?" I'm not the type of pregnant woman who is turned into an invalid in pregnancy and my heart goes out to those with tough pregnancies. I'm pretty much symptom-less. Although now at 38 weeks I get lower back pains, period-type cramps, stabbing cervix pain but its not debilitating. I can't bend down very well cause I have a baby in the way. So sure I'm not vacuuming the staircase or lifting 50 pounds or running around or anything. But my point here is I'm doing fine given the circumstances BUT I'm done being pregnant. I'm interpreting every tiny twinge or feeling in my body and then over interpreting it as labor, because with my son once contractions began- and they were STRONG- I was ready to push two hours later. I keep thinking, did I just not notice anything beforehand? I'm scared of being a mom again. The sleepless nights. Fear of SIDS. Adjusting to a newborn and learning about them as they learn about the world, shot into the world as a helpless being. I know I will love both kiddos, I know that, but sharing my love is incomprehensible as of now. I'm worried about my son, my pride and joy, who never leaves my side, feeling abandoned, less loved. Jealous. I fear the hospital as I feel like a number and someone to just give unneccesary (crap how do I spell that?) interventions to. I hate the idea of a 24 hour post labor stay in a skinny uncomfy bed with a paper pillow and bright lights, constant interruptions, disinfectant smell, jello diet, and lacking anything remotely comforting. I dread being away from my oldest son for that long, he's never been without mommy that long and I know he will just have a 24 hour tantrum for whoever is suckered into watching him. And I feel for him emotion-wise. I want to be done being pregnant but am not looking forward to a PTSD style sleep deprivation world. I want to be done but fear a middle of the night labor. Giving birth in the car. Being sent home for "not being in labor". Having a 24 hour long labor. Having complications and thus a c section which beyond scares me. Having an unhealthy child stuck in NICU, my own personal hell. I just....am tired of waiting and being nervous and I just want it all resolved, happy, rainbows and sunshine.

Friday, July 5, 2013

It can't be that bad...it can

Two days ago my husband made some buckwheat pancakes. I can't eat wheat and they contained wheat flour, and I'm not much of a pancake eater but buckwheat pancakes omg...they smelled so good. So good, in fact, that I ate half of one. Then yesterday the cheese wontons looked like pillows of fluffy tummy hugging clouds of heaven. I had three. I thought, it can't be that bad. It can't. Oh. Oh it can. I will spare gruesome details....kinda. It looks like a murder scene in the toilet. Add that and cramping in my colon to a baby who has dropped and is pressing on my lady bits and I am just full of joy. Everything down there hurts. Stupid buckwheat pancake. Stupid pillow-dream-fluff wontons. I hate you. Why must you be so cruel to little ol' me?

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

the best invention

Climate control, hands down, is the best invention. Okay okay sure certain medical procedures and stuff actually take the cake but climate control (as in air conditioning and heating) does not get much limelight and it should.

We just "survived" a heat wave. Here I go sounding like, wah, my first-world problems, but air conditioning rocks my socks. It was 95 here a few days ago. Sure it wasn't very humid but 95?!?! Where I live, very few homes or businesses have a/c so 95 is hot. I went to my grandma's 94th birthday party (awesome huh, 94!) And OMG. It was 95 indoors and out with no breeze. Add in that I am 9 months pregnant and it is beyond unbearable.

The best part of my day was getting home and basking in the glory that was our "splurge" purchase, central air. Oh how I love thee. I then got to thinking how did people survive without a/c? I mean, places like Phoenix, Palm Springs, Las Vegas had inhabitants before air conditioning. Places like Riyadh, New Delhi, Cairo still exist, with millions of inhabitsnts, without much a/c. How do they do it? Sure, you "adjust". You build buildings that shield the heat. You take naps in the heat of the day. But maybe it is my first eorld snobbery but "adjust"? Umm, no.

Maybe I am justifying my snobbery. Maybe I really did serve my penance but know what? I am grateful for a/c and consider it a necessity for my well being. See, I grew up without it. Sure, where I lived never got above 85 but my room....it broiled. It was an attic without insulation so it would broil and be 95-100 degrees by late afternoon and stay that way until about 3am all summer. I could barely move, think, or sleep. I just...sweltered. Then, my parents refused to use the a/c in their cars no matter what car it was ,and they loved road trips. In August. In the daytime. Through the Mojave Desert. Then, yep there is a then, in college my dorm was not air conditioned. In the desert Southwest.

I feel like I served my sentence and can bask in the glory of a/c, fully justifiably. I still do wonder how people do it...live where it is so hot. Maybe I am just a heat wimp. But again, I praise the a/c. Which got me to thinking about cold. People lived in Chicago, Calgary, Moscow before real heating.... huddled around a fireplace, stoking a fire all night, barely keeping it above freezing. That sounds like misery. While I prefer a little cold to heat (you can always put on another layer, you can only remove so many), imagine living where it is -40c or f. Imagine that with just a little fireplace. Having to worry about firewood for your actual survival. How miserable.

So thus ends my pointless ramble of praising climate control. I'm going to go be shameless and put my a/c down to 64 for bedtime because aaaah I like it that