Wrapping Up? (It Gets Better Part 4)

I closed Part 3 by telling you "how badly my mom was doing began to really hit me," complete with that link. If you haven't read it yet, you can click over and do that now -- it's essentially Part 4 of this story, and this post labeled Part 4 should be Part 5. Not confusing at all!

But I didn't say in that link how the trip down to California to say goodbye to my mom went, because it hadn't happened yet.

I absolutely love this picture. Somehow, amazingly, it shows joy and laughter as I sit by my mom, who's dying, and by my baby, who by the grace of God is whole and healthy even though her organs are in weird places.

Mundane, Sacred Invitations

I haven't finished telling you my PPD story, but I'm going to share this mental health tool anyway. This isn't the first tool I wanted to write about, this isn't how I'd outlined and planned it out, but God seems to be inviting me to share it now, so here it is.


I struggle with figuring out what realistic expectations are for myself, and goals that will push me without being delusional, goals that are relevant and appropriate to my life stage and responsibilities.

But I enjoy goal setting, and systems, and tracking things. I love playing around with it all, even though I'm not great at buckling down and actually getting stuff done.

Idealism is... sorta my middle name. To me, there are whole layers of realism. I can work real hard and cut things and make my schedule realistic... and then I realize it still isn't, I need to peel yet another layer off that onion.

So it was revolutionary to me when I was talking with a sister about this and she told me she's stopped asking what other people would consider a realistic expectation, to ask what God expects of her.

Begin Again Part 2

Begin Again: The Brave Practice of Releasing Hurt and Receiving Rest by Leeana Tankersley
Read: 4/7/18-4/24/18

Last week I started to tell how I found this book, and about my grief with my mother in the late stages of dementia.

I left off with listening to The Next Right Thing podcast, the episode Be a Beginner.

I'd just been told, by multiple people, that I didn't know how to do this, how to proceed, because I'd never done it before.

So this week, if you're in your own grief, anxiety, or transition, I invite you in with these words from the transcript:

"If you are newly engaged or newly pregnant or if you are a new step-parent or just moved into a new house, you are grateful for the new role that you have and maybe excited about the future. But there’s a lot you don’t yet know and there isn’t a handbook to teach you.

An Ordinary and Holy Tuesday

Someone, probably many someones, though I don't know who, have said not to compare others' outsides to your insides. And that's part of the trouble with social media -- it can make this more difficult. So, lest you see me at my best and think I have it all together... ( O_o )

This is Joy, if you can't tell. Ha.

Things I Learned This Spring

Cooper Mountain Nature Park

Linking up with Emily Freeman to share what I've learned this spring.

I'm learning, apparently, to ban perfectionism by keeping things short. (I mean, less than 2000 words is short, right?!) This is the furthest thing from an exhaustive list of what I've learned recently. I could probably write every day for a month on what I've been learning! And I'll tell myself that I will write that series, so I don't feel as bad about leaving things out. It's a useful and pretty lie, it is.

Here are two. Two things I've learned. Well, two categories. Two category iceberg tips.

1. The Enneagram. Mostly when I'd heard about the Enneagram, up until this spring, I'd kind of been like, meh, I like the personality systems I already have, thanks. Don't need another one. I'd heard that Myers-Briggs highlights strengths whereas the Enneagram focuses on motivations, but when you include cognitive steps in your Myers-Briggs you can start to get a bit deeper than just behavior and preferences, too. So meh.

Ribs and Sleep and My Heart

Went to physical therapy Monday. I mentioned to my therapist that I was trying to pay more attention to exactly which ribs hurt, which were painful to the touch, as it can be hard to tell without investigating -- sometimes I can even press in one place and the pain response is somewhere else. And I think maybe when I have a really bad Episode there could be multiple ribs involved.

She said that yes, right then my two upper ribs and three lower ribs on the right side were all involved -- out/frozen/seized up, whatever.

The, um, "best" part? Even at my worst on Monday, it wasn't all that bad. Maybe medium bad, certainly not an Episode. With almost half my ribs on one side out. So... yeah. Certainly seems possible that it could be ALL OF THEM when I have a Rib Episode, and/or they're farther out. Fits with the way the pain moves around when it's Bad according to the different positions I try.

EDS problems.*

Sadness. And Mothers.

Trigger warning: Sadness. And mothers. Clearly.


I learned this summer, three weeks ago, that my mother is now in late-stage Alzheimer's, and has probably about twelve months to live.


Womp womp.

I learned other things this summer too, things I want to share with you, but I couldn't put this one in the same post as all the bright and happy things. I just couldn't. They can exist on the same blog, and in the same heart, but not in the same post, not today. (Link to the bright and happy things forthcoming, if you'd like to read them. Watch this space. If you don't see a link on Facebook or wherever when that goes live.)

(Also there are other wonderful, funny, cheery, and deep posts over at the linkup on Emily Freeman's blog, here! And there's still some time to join in, if you want!)

Readathon Today

I've had a baby. Plus the book with my miscarriage essay is coming out on December 1st. But this isn't about those things. Not yet. Today, I'm writing because today is Dewey's 24-Hour Readathon, and as there aren't any minimum requirements for participation, I've decided to do it.

I'm not having someone watch my kids, and I'm not going to stay up crazy late reading, nothing like that. But I've been doing a lot of chilling and relaxing as I'm still not quite three weeks postpartum, I get tired easily, and resting continues to be a good thing for healing; so I'm just going to shift other free time activities over to reading. Reading while nursing, on its own, should net me a good chunk of time. Of course there will be interruptions, so I'm using Toggl to track my time, rather than attempting to read for whole hour increments and tracking those.

What's Saving My Life Right Now

Modern Mrs. Darcy says this idea comes from Barbara Brown Taylor's memoir Leaving Church, that "most of us can easily articulate what’s killing us, but few of us pay attention to what’s giving us life."

A lot of this is in common with what I'm learning right now, or learned last year. I didn't make it into the what we learned in January linkup this month though (ah, to write faster!), so it shouldn't be too terribly redundant for you.

Okay, I didn't quite make it for this linkup either, but whatever.


1. Big goals.

I'd heard before that you shouldn't have too many goals going at once, but I'd always resisted reducing mine. Winnowing and those sorts of decisions are hard for INFPs. I remember reading from Michael Hyatt that your brain can only keep so many goals in mind at once, and I was like, "That's what writing them down is for!" But. He was right. Goals are about change, and there's only so much energy and focus and willpower to go around. Better to make the decisions on the front end.

Beauty in Winter

2014 was a big year for learning things. Sad and tragic things, fun things, productive things, beautiful things, all kinds of things! As Gracie sometimes says, "Ah the wings!"

(All the things.)

I would love it if I'd already written blog posts for many of these, which I could just link to with a little summary, but 2014 has also been a hard year, and the words and stories are slow to come. They're coming, now, but I can't push them all out before this linkup. (Speaking of things learned.) So I'll write what I can and maybe add some links later, to future posts.

(Because what an epic long blog post with lots of links really really needs is even MOAR links, to other huge long blog posts. Yup.)

1. Reminders of grace are all around.

Practicalities of Living Life in a Hard Season, Part Two: High Sensitivity

Part One was the beginning of my issues and my problem, with just a taste of solution.

Then there's this more recent link from Modern Mrs. Darcy, "Self-care for the highly sensitive parent."  Oh yes. Yes, yes.

Or how about I just live at Multnomah Falls?
That should work, right??

Add being highly sensitive into the stressful mix I described in the last post. That's great. Just what I needed. Tell me again why I'm supposed to be myself, with my own particular strengths and weaknesses, instead of being someone else? Someone else's strengths sound so much better... heh. Um.

Almost two months after I wrote most of these words, I sit at my computer editing, and remember words I highlighted earlier today in A Million Little Ways by Emily P. Freeman.

"A few weeks ago, I cried while reading a food blog. It wasn't because I was so hungry or

Practicalities of Living Life in a Hard Season, Part One

Note: I wrote most of the material in this post and series at the beginning of November. Comments on time frames reflect that, I didn't go to the trouble to update them all. "Last Wednesday" means the Wednesday before the day I wrote this in November, not actually last Wednesday. The "Merry Christmas" part is current, but not the rest.

Okay. That is all. Carry on.




Merry Christmas! This may not be the best time ever for a new six-part or however-many-parts series, but I've been working on this one for a while now (see above), and am feeling particularly inspired at the moment to finish it up and put it out there, so. *shrug* Eh, it's okay if you're busy with your family right now. I'll link back to it again later.

(And if you're not busy, or you're feeling particularly sad or lonely or let-down or frustrated or all of the above right now and that's why you're online, welcome! This is for you. Hugs. I wish I had easy answers for you, instead of my story. But I hope it helps a little.)

Unwrapping My Friday

This starts with someone else's post. Your mission, should you choose to accept it: Go read "One Thing My Soul Is Begging Me to Do." It's worth it, I promise. And then click over and read the link mentioned at the end, her piece at (in)courage. Got that? Okay, you're ready.


What does unwrapping my day today look like? It isn't Tuesday today, but most of my days these days are very ordinary, even the special ones, and I want to start this practice right this minute. Trying to remember the little ordinary moments from three days ago won't do, I want this day, now.

Happy Work

A few little things I wrote yesterday, almost put up on Facebook and/or Twitter as three individual statuses/tweets, but then decided I would like here, together.



Working on editing, and man. It is work, but this work makes me happy. ^_^

The Toddler Negotiator

A little thing I wrote down last year, on November 17, 2013:

Where does a one-year-old come up with this?

John's computer is surrounded by "bribes" from Gracie. She brings a favorite toy over to him and offers it in exchange for some computer time.

November Lessons

Back at the beginning of July I participated in a linkup with "Fifteen Things I Learned in June." It is, of course, kind of a regular thing. A monthly linkup. And I'm participating again! Finally! Here's the linkup at Chatting at the Sky, "Let's Share What We Learned in November."

From the serious to the silly, here's a taste of my November:

1) I need to limit my choices, duh! Sorry, it might be more "duh" to me than to you... it's a personality thing. I'm easily overwhelmed by decisions and things. My reminder/flash of revelation came courtesy of Modern Mrs. Darcy (also a strong INFP, yay!), in this post, "Concrete changes I've made because of MBTI and enneagram insights."

The question, now, is just how to go about limiting my choices... I can get so exhausted by decisions and I have so many options I want to keep open, even deciding how to limit the choices is difficult! There are so many things I want to do! How do I build routines that take that into account? Routines to change up the routines? I feel like I need a template for a template for a template. Yes, I know I'm ridiculous.

Related, but not quite the same:

2) Better to progress than to not act because you're trying to make the perfect choice. I guess I already knew this, but I attempted to take it to heart this month. I think. If I'm remembering right. Hey, I'm including it in November, okay? It's my post and I'll include this if I want to. So there.

Um. I mean, I've heard in a few places recently, like the book Quiet, that our society values action over careful decision too highly, and those of us who sit around contemplating really have something unique to offer, and often make better decisions.

Sure, but I've got it bad, and I can take forever just on daily minutiae. This is to help me dial back. (Er, dial back on the pondering, not the acting.)

3) I have a tendency to either run from myself (With books! Facebook! Twitter! Blogs! TV!) or attempt to control every last thing about myself (Plans! Schedules! Goals! Rules!). I swing back and forth between the two.

(Yes, even though I'm an INFP I have a bit of J in me, too -- I do like schedules and rules and things. At least... in theory. I love the idea of them. Carrying them out not so much. But oh, how I can dream!)

When my desires turn to addictions turn to digging myself into scary holes, I become so terrified of myself I try to plan and box myself into perfection. (Spoiler: doesn't work.) Two different kinds of running, really, and two different types of lying to myself.

I don't want to do that anymore. I want to be present, here, now. I want to show up and face my life. All the clichés! They're cliché for a reason. There are some things I should try to plan for (see above, about limiting my choices), but I don't want to plan all the things because I'm afraid of any desire or emotion poking out.

Hot baths always seem to reside in the middle, at least. Even though baths are so wonderful that they turn into something I "should" do, which normally brings the danger of the controlling-myself-to-death type of running, I can't seem to lie to myself in a hot bath. Though, I'll admit, I can compose overly optimistic future plans while soaking, even if I'm not actively running away from myself yet...

Great birthday. Thanks, Beth!

4) The Hyperbole and a Half book is SO. Awesome. It's like, one million awesome. Seriously. I think it might be the funniest book I've ever read. Plus there are serious bits that are also awesome. "Depression Part One" and "Depression Part Two" of course, though I already knew about those from her blog. And "This Is Why I'll Never Be an Adult." Classic. But also new ones (I think?) like "Motivation," and "Identity" Parts One and Two. I think. I can't double check right now because I've loaned the book out, but in some ways they struck me as sort of different takes on the issues surrounding "This Is Why I'll Never Be an Adult." As you might notice with #3, I can relate. Though again, different take. (And hers is better.) Similarities. They have them.

Also this song:



It came out in December, but that's okay, because I'm not counting it as something I learned. I'm just saying it relates to the other stuff. That's all. Don't judge.

5) I absolutely love Joss Whedon's version of Much Ado About Nothing. As it turns out, I had seen the play before, but it'd been quite a while. This was a magical way to be reintroduced to it. I've watched it just twice now, once with subtitles (because baby distractions); and it was even better the second time, with the subtitles (because Shakespeare). Oh, and watching it with the enthusiastic audience of a sister also helped. I DO love sharing things. Which makes the subtitles doubly helpful, as they probably helped Melanie's understanding too, thus the enthusiasm. Next I want to watch the commentary. I love the music, I pretty much love everything about it. Oh, and Amy Acker is brilliant. Many of the actors are, really, but Amy Acker, especially the "That I were a man" speech... *swoons*

Also great present. Thanks, John!

Technically, I watched this for the first time at the end of October, but I watched it a second time in November, so it counts. Because I didn't really learn how very much I loved it until the second time. Yeah.

Oh, and found this review of it later, while writing this post. Yup. In agreement.

6) I can actually publish blog posts on three days in a row! Woo! At least if I try to just make them short little posts. Of course, I might then only post up one more thing in the entire remaining month... Oops.

7) Taking a little partial break from the internet and such? Feels So. Good. Not checking one's phone, not reading blogs as much... I mean, I love blogs and such, I do. And I want to keep up with ALL THE BLOGS, which is impossible, and even when we talk about what I really mean, just keeping up with all the ones I like, it's still hard, because there's a LOT out there that I like. And I have a little girl, and etc. etc. But I am not quite exactly like some other textroverts I know -- unless I have some space away from the internet, it gets where I can't hear myself think anymore. There are too many voices in my head.

8) Baby (or maybe I should call her Toddler, now?) seems to like cats more than kittens. Huh. I guess it makes sense -- they're almost as big as she is. If I could see tigers up close, with no fear they'd hurt me, I guess I'd like that better, too.

9) Nirvana has an Android app now! "Enthusiastic cheer!"

10) Oh, how quickly a toddler can gain speed and comfort when she really starts to walk. Girl's getting fast. Also: Awwww! Kawaii desu yo!

Obligatory baby picture. Sorry it's not better. Did I mention she's fast?

11) We have a truly insane amount of onesies and rompers.

Board books for a sense of scale?

That isn't even all of them. There's a smaller stack of long-sleeved onesies behind that stack. There are more in the laundry hamper, and presumably more in the garage. Haven't finished going through all the boxes I'd packed away for when she'd be older, yet. She's older, now.

12) Stayed away from my baby for a whole entire night for the first time ever. It was... uncomfortable, still, as far as needing to pump a lot and it not being enough, but, ooh, it was worth it. Could have been better, as circumstances made it impossible for me to go to bed very early that night, but still. I woke up a few times, smiled, and went peacefully back to sleep. Bliss. Thanks for the birthday present, John!

Er, what I learned was that it's surprisingly uncomfortable still, but still awesome. I guess. I mean, I suspected as much, mostly. But hey, now I know!

13) WOW, is my girl introverted and sensitive. I mean, I knew that already, too, but it's rarely demonstrated with such high contrast as it was last Saturday.

My sister stayed the night, and Gracie hasn't seen her often, as she lives in Oregon. That morning as soon as Gracie woke up her emotions were all over the place, from joyful squeals to despairing cries. I thought at first she was on edge because of the stranger in the house, but no. In the middle of her crying we went out to the living room, she saw my sister on the couch, and... instant silence and calm neutrality while she observed the stranger. The edginess was just from being around the crowds of my extended family celebration for Thanksgiving on Friday. Recovery. She needs it.

14) Learned some things about intersectionality and what feminism looks like for people of color. I think I want to learn a lot more before I talk about it much here, though. Maybe I'll post a few links, soonish.

15) I'm better at Dutch Blitz (can also be played with regular playing cards under the name of Nertz, among many other names) than I used to be, many many Thanksgivings ago. Also, two-player is fun, provided game play is adjusted properly. If each person plays with two decks instead of one, you try to get rid of 20 cards instead of 10, with the assistance of five stacks instead of three.. yeah, it's fun. Also makes three-player seem pretty easy, as those five stacks make it feel like there's a ton of stuff to keep track of.

16) Not only is Toddler growing well now, as in the "Fifteen Things I Learned in June" post, but she even jumped up to the next growth curve, she's not on the very bottom line anymore! Woo!

"DST is eeeevil," or: Mixed Feelings

I'm finally going to participate in RambleRamble's weekly linkup. I've meant to, many times, but never quite made it before.

The prompt: "Need to get something off your chest? How about sharing a good rant with us?"

My snarky post would definitely qualify as ranty, but I'm not going to get that one ready by midnight tonight, so a different post and rant it is. I'm sorry if some of the sentences here don't make sense or don't scan easily. I wrote this kinda quickly (for me). I mean, I composed parts of it mentally in the wee hours of the night last night, and mostly wrote it down (and edited, and added the pics and links) during my daughter's naps today. I'm not sure if I caught and clarified all the confusing bits. I tried.


Unfortunately, this rant is going to be watered down a little bit by the mixed feelings. Not that I have mixed feelings about Daylight Saving Time itself, the concept of it. Far from it. Pure evil. But... Well, I'll explain later, after the rant.

Let's start out with a couple little quotes from Facebook. This is what I've already said about Daylight Saving Time ending. In comments on a status.

"As a fellow new (-ish) parent, I'm terrified of what this means for the time change this year. I mean, fall is supposed to be the good one! The magical extra hour of sleep! But I'm sure that as soon as 4:30 rolls around my girl's gonna be like, "Mama, Mama! I'm so happy, Mama! Aren't you? Isn't life great? Let's plaaay!!!" (Roughly. She doesn't actually talk yet.)

Somehow, I'd always heard from parents that Daylight's Saving Time especially sucks when you have kids, but it seems like I only heard about how hard it is to get them to go to bed when it's still light outside, not how hard it is to get them to SLEEP IN JUST ONCE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD.

Weekends are when I get more sleep deprived. Because even after almost a year, I can't seem to get it through my head that I can't stay up later on Friday night. Oh, and the tireder I am, the more I make stupid decisions... like staying up late. It's like an infinite loop of tired and dumb.

Phew. Apparently I had a few things I wanted to get off my chest on this topic. >_>"

Later I said,

"Seems I spoke too soon.

Best. Jinx. Ever."

And,

"She'll sometimes sleep longer if we let her cuddle in bed with us. And there's no light anywhere.

Of course, other times she just climbs all over us, scratches our faces..."

I saw one person on Facebook defend Daylight Saving Time on the grounds that children were walking to school in the dark. Please, think of the children!

Um? Wait, when were they walking in the dark? In the winter? Fall is when DST ends, sooo... yeah, no time change would not affect that a whit.

Even if it did, um... maybe we should start school later in the day? Just a thought? I mean, I know there can be some logistical issues, but if the alternative is Daylight Freakin' Saving Time, seems like a good idea to me.

That's the other thing. Why are we trying to save light in the summer? It's summer! There's plenty of light! What, because there's so much of it, so we're trying to stockpile it for the winter? Sorry, I don't think it works that way.

This is probably a good place to link to The Actual Pastor's very nicely ranty post on Daylight Saving Time: "The Real Reason We Observe Daylight Saving Time: to Kill Parents." It is bitter and lovely.

Yep, once upon a time, at least the evil of the time change in the spring was sort of kind of counterbalanced by the joy and magic of the extra hour of sleep in the fall.

But now? Now that I'm a parent? There is no magical extra hour of sleep, there is only pain and anger. I see Daylight Saving Time's true face now. There is nothing good in it, it is rotten to the core. It should die a terrible, painful death, be burned to ash, and have its ashes scattered to the four winds so that no one might ever reassemble the pieces and resurrect the practice.


And yet, for all that (and I do believe that), I can't end on that note. Last year my daughter was born on the day of the extra hour, and I can't think of it without being reminded of her.

It's kind of hard to maintain the rage of being woken up at 4:30 in the morning because of the most retarded, useless practice ever... when you remember that at that time last year you were also up, because you were in the middle of giving birth to your child.

To be mad about not getting that extra hour of sleep you expected (and maybe to actually lose sleep because you foolishly went to bed planning for it, even though you knew it was not to be), when last year you hadn't slept soundly, for... well, for weeks actually, to a certain extent... but especially not since you checked into the hospital approximately 36 hours earlier.

To be angry that the good chunks of sleep you did get were so short, when last year the epidural gave you some really nice good chunks of sleep too, at least when you weren't literally shivering uncontrollably from a reaction to it, just trying with all your might to keep your teeth from chattering. Or until you were woken by alarms at your baby's heart rate, and a lowering of the pitocin. Or woken by nurses giving you antibiotics for an infection. Still, you think back to the beginning of labor, and ah, that epidural gave some good sleep!

Daylight Saving Time last year. About an hour and a half before Gracie's birth.

It's hard to measure pain sometimes, it's so subjective. Even more so, memories of pain. But there are objective data points, here and there. At first I remember how I was handling it, how I thought I could've kept on going, if I hadn't learned I had to keep going for so long, that I was only dilated 1 cm.

Then I remember. I remember when the labor started, how I could laugh with people in the room, and check Facebook. How that quickly changed, how soon I could only watch a bit of very mild TV for distraction -- had to be a calm nature channel, nothing stressful or demanding to my brain, my attention.

The contractions. The pain always lingered, so to speak, after the needle on the graph stopped showing the contraction. It took a little while to come back down to normal.

Soon I could only watch the TV as a distraction between the contractions. But soon after that there wasn't really any "in between." Maybe there was officially, but the pain never went away. Between having had Braxton Hicks contractions that would last five minutes or more, sometimes, and as little as a minute apart (or less), possibly because of an irritable uterus that wouldn't completely relax for twenty mintues at a stretch at times, and then add in a low level of pitocin to start up actual labor? Things became not happy.


Not that, you know, labor is normally happy. But I've heard inductions can be worse than "regular" labor, and I'm pretty sure I've heard there are supposed to be breaks between contractions, at least until close to the end. Unlike some of the stories from women with an irritable uterus.

I used to get really bad menstrual cramps. Bad enough to throw up, once, and very close to that many, many other times, as I realized after the vomiting incident. Labor... was kind of, sort of, a little like that? You know, besides being a ton worse. But with cramps, moving around, tossing and turning from side to side, will help a little bit, for a moment. With contractions (real honest-to-God ones, not the Braxton Hicks), it's like if you move even a fraction of an inch, you'll be impaling yourself further on the metal pole that's rammed down your center. All you can do is breathe and count, and then you can't even do that, all you can do is exist until it's over.

That's my experience, anyway.

Sorry, I don't know when this became a rant about childbirth. This is not the next part of the pregnancy complications and birth story I've been meaning to tell. But, it's written, I guess I'll go ahead, out of order or not. And I'll remind you that expressing the difficulty of something does NOT mean the person talking thinks it was a mistake, or not worthwhile. Momastery's "2011 Lesson #2: Don't Carpe Diem" is relevant here. None of this diminishes my love for my baby, not even a tiny little bit. Similarly, talking about how hard parenting is, or how I miss long stretches of sleep? Yeah, the appropriate response is not, "Well you shouldn't have decided to have a kid, then." Just in case you were wondering.

Some people say you forget the pain when the child is born, to which I give a very mature and dignified, WTF??!

I mean, I know the Bible has a verse about how a woman forgets her pain for the joy that a child has entered the world (John 16:21), but I'm pretty sure it was being poetic, and speaking very generally. I've heard women talk about this as though they literally forgot. That that's why they would have another child, because they actually don't remember what it was like. And I'm not just talking, "Oh wow, I forgot it was this bad," but like, forgot. the. whole. thing. Seriously? I mean, I was skeptical before I had my daughter. My brain, as far as I know, just doesn't work like that. I didn't think childbirth would damage it in such a way that that would change. It didn't. Childbirth was... memorable.

So, anyway, since I DO remember all that, it's hard to be very mad about Daylight Saving Time, somehow. Well, other than Daylight Saving Time never being an important or necessary part of bringing a child into the world. That little detail.

I almost wish it was easier to stay mad. Like I'm the jerk invalidating my own emotions, saying, "You think that's bad? Wait 'til..." Bleh. Well, here's a compromise with myself. I can be mad about lost sleep the other 364 days of the year. I can sure as heck be frustrated that, with a few exceptions, I haven't had more than four or five hours of sleep at a time in over a year now, or even as much as four at a time in I don't know how long now, maybe weeks? That ohmyGOODNESS I really need to night wean this child.

But I love her, and a day that reminds me of her birth can't be all bad, despite itself. Even if the concept of DST is pure and unadulterated evil.

Around 8 hours after her birth.

Silliness is a grave business.

If you read the last couple posts, you might have noticed that today is my daughter's first birthday. My eldest and only (thus far).



I can think of lots of different things to say, but in the end, most of them fail me. She is truly a gift of grace; from the beginning of the pregnancy, when she brought light to a dark time for our family; to her safe birth amidst all kinds of risks and dangers; to the amazing person that she is now.

This is actually the next day, technically.

Even when she was a newborn, that was always something that surprised me, how little I felt like I had "a baby" or like I had become "a mother" in a generic sense -- I had her, Gracie (codename).

She was and is a very particular baby.

Sherlock Ducky the party hat.

She knows that silliness is a grave business.

Happy birthday, my love!

Writing and Mommy and Kitty Humor. And Such. Links!

Today is the anniversary of the start of the process to induce labor for Gracie's birth. Went in to the hospital for my regular non-stress test, it went fine, left. Got the call as we left the parking lot that the long-awaited test results for Cholestasis were in, and were positive, time to induce.

I have never before in all my life been so happy to receive news that a test showed a problem. I already knew I had it, pretty much, it was just a matter of proving it to the doctors. Finally!

We turned around at the first stoplight, back to the hospital around 4:00 p.m. All checked in and drugs started around 8:00 p.m. Happy upcoming birthday, Gracie!

"Still smiling!" I know. I'm not in labor yet, very aware. That's why I'm here, to induce, because not being in labor is a problem.

Now. I've been putting in extra hours at work, which always stresses me out. Not for the extra hours themselves, necessarily, but for the situations where you're backed up badly enough that extra hours are desperately needed. And... working on the snarky post is fun, but also depressing, maddening, draining, possibly soul-destroying... I haven't done much on it in a couple weeks. Not much left to do, I don't think, so I may finish it up soon, but for now, here!

Have some quick little fun links! (And a few longer ones.)

Query Quagmire:

"Very little is expected of you..."
"Query Quagmire: The Book."
"On second thought..."

Shit My Students Write:

"Trying to concept"
What the...? O_o I feel like I should put up some kind of a content warning on this one, but, um. I don't even... huh. Um... content warning for sex ed from imaginary land??

"Let them burn cake!"

Maureen Johnson:

"This makes me happier..."
Awww! So many cute things! Stealthy creation of public cute!

"JOHN GREEN FANFIC PREVIEW"
Um, wow. I must get my hands on this.

"The day John Green realized Benedict Cumberbatch was hiding in his house was the day his collection of Nicholas Sparks novels spontaneously fell off the bookcase in his office. This surprised him. What surprised him more was that there was a face, shelf high, now clearly visible in the spot where the books had been.

It was the face of Benedict Cumberbatch.

'Who are you?' Cumberbatch said, Cumberbatchly.

'I’m John Green,' said John Green.

'Clearly an alias. Let’s see who you are really.' Benedict Cumberbatch touched his hands together in prayer formation, and touched them lightly to his lips..."

It gets more awesome. Like this, for example.

"BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH IS IN YOUR HOUSE? said Hank. YOU MEAN, LIKE, SHERLOCK?

'I mean exactly that,' John said. 'And I think? He thinks? He’s Sherlock Holmes?'"

terribleminds: "Please Ban My Books"

"Buy my books. All of them.

And then ban the crap out of them.

I eagerly await you doing the right thing.

I eagerly await all the banhammers and burnination.

*stares*

*waits*

*noisily sips Earl Grey tea*"

Momastery:

"Momaquery"
Oh wow. I won't quote much from this one because it'd be most of the post. Hey, it's short, okay? But here's the question:

"Q: Dear G: How do I keep my tween from idolizing Miley Cyrus?

Kay. I actually know this one."

The answer is truly frightening and hilarious.

"I'm Not Sassy, I'm Suzanne"
This one isn't so much a quick little funny link, it is a longer funny. It's worth it.

"I know they say money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy ACTUAL SUMMER CAMP and after a week I was unable to detect any difference."

...

"And then, when the kids got home and started fighting, Craig and I would look at each other and smile and take a deep breath together and say, 'No problem. Totally not going to freak out. I am So Zen. So Zen.' This was our mantra all summer: 'Totally not freaking out. So Zen.'

One day, as summer came to a close (which it does every year because Jesus loves us), Amma threw one of her tantrums that we lovingly refer to as 'Amma-geddon.' Every once in a while, something goes terribly wrong in Amma’s life (like,Tish breathes too loudly) and Amma throws a tantrum that makes me feel like maybe a demon is actually being exorcised from her body. And when this happens, we place her in her room to go ahead and work it out. We live in Florida, but during these tantrums my parents in Virginia often call to ask how Amma’s doing. Because they can hear her. On this particular day, I let Amma yell in her room for a few minutes, and then I put on my riot gear, opened her door and said, 'Honey, as soon as you calm down, I can start your time-out timer, and you’ll be able to join us again. You just need to stop freaking out first.'

And Amma yelled back at me-  'I AM TOTALLY NOT FREAKING OUT. I AM SUZANNE!!! IIIIIII AMMMMMM SUUUUUUZAAAAAAAAAAANNNE!'

Suzanne. That’s what she thought we were saying all summer. I am Suzanne."

"6 Reasons Social Media Is Dangerous for Me"

"Since I’m a recovering bulimic, I have to keep a close eye on my relationship with food. Lately, I’ve been struggling with food a bit. More accurately, I’ve been ambushing food. Struggle suggests resistance and the problem with food is that it never puts up much of a fight. It just sits there and lets me eat it all which is quite passive aggressive of food. It’s not totally food’s fault though. Food really just gets used by me as a way to numb myself when I get anxious. When I start to overeat, I’m really looking for peace, but since I’m not sure how to get that, I’ll take second best. Second best, for me, is a carb and sugar induced coma. Comatose on the couch = not feeling much. So, mission accomplished. We overeat because it works. Not in the long run, of course. but the long run is really just for enlightened people.

My overachieving therapist insists that in fact, the long run is for EVERYONE. Since she can’t help food be more assertive (since it doesn’t have insurance), she said I should start keeping 'danger food' out of my house. In order to identify my 'danger foods,' she asked what my go-to foods are when I’m anxious or lonely or sad. Cereal, I said. Once I start with the cereal, it’s really all over. If there’s a little milk left in the bottom I can’t WASTE it because I’m really responsible so I have to keep refilling and refilling the bowl until I’m almost dead. And so my therapist said- great – let’s start by keeping cereal out of the house –especially when you’re feeling vulnerable. Okay, I said. So…always? And she said yes, we’ll start with always."

There are times when I feel like Momastery is cheesy and I start out by rolling my eyes... and then she goes and writes stuff like this. Fine, be that way, I love you and I never want you to leave and will you be my friend?

The rest of the post is good, too. And I relate to it. I have to be careful around social media as well. I have some boundaries... sort of... but I have a long ways to go. I'm not very good with this sort of thing, in general. It's like how I keep not getting enough sleep because when I'm tired I make bad decisions, like staying up late.

Cat Jump Fail

Finally, let's close with a cat video. It's a bit old now, but needs to be shared. Because this video has made my life objectively better. Because every time I hear this song on the radio now, I giggle.

The Weight of the Words

I've been thinking. ("'A dangerous pastime.' 'I know.'")

Thinking about a lot of things, and a lot of things about certain things... as I go through my RSS reader one post after another after another relates to what I want to say, and what I want to say gets so big, and I can't contain it or express it.

But I can try. One word at a time, one post at a time.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my link roundups going forward. It was a nice idea to throw them together each week with no thought to theme, but then one week there were too many heavy topics that were too different from each other, and I don't know what it would have been like to read, but just quick scans through the posts were giving me emotional whiplash, as the writer envisioning my roundup.

So maybe as I go through the weeks I'll post up one link here, one there, another couple over there...

Then again, maybe I won't. Being a mother is hard (I have links about that!), and it's more important that I go to bed relatively early each night and make it to work on time in the morning than it is that I write ALL THE THINGS. Or even a few of them.

Even little posts with only one or two links take time.

But I can do what I can do. One word at a time, one post at a time.

Earlier this month, I wrote a draft which included a slightly rougher version of this:

*                              *                                *

Just looking through my daily notes to begin to prepare to write the next part of my pregnancy story brings up so much emotion. (9-25-12 Up @ 6 for medicine, back to bed)

Only three bottles? Surely I have more souvenirs somewhere...
The pink and blue belts are for a contraction monitor and a fetal monitor. When you're a regular guest at the hospital for non-stress tests, they give you a set of your very own to bring to each appointment.

The one-year anniversaries of The Beginning are past. September 15 and 16.

It's easy to feel guilty that I haven't told these stories yet. There are so many voices I've heard in my head at different times -- "You're always promising series and not following through." "I know this is important to you, but by now, who's going to care anymore?" "You might as well not bother, you're going to forget things." "How could you take so long? You are going to forget things, and these memories were important!"

...and so on. You get the idea.

Then a doula friend on Facebook linked to "Birth through the lens of time" at Birth Kalamazoo.

Here's part of what I commented when I first read it:

"'Instead, women were most affected by whether they had felt powerful or powerless. Were they treated with kindness and respect or callousness and disregard?' Yes. This explains why my 'birth story' starts with complications weeks before the actual birth (as it continued after birth for the woman in the article and many others), and why it feels so important to tell on my blog. Also, perhaps, why I haven't really blogged it yet, eight months later, just some intro to it -- because it does feel so important, I want to get it right, and perfectionism is the enemy of creation.

I think there were many times I was treated with respect, but powerless? Oh yes. When you're pretty sure you have a condition that threatens the life of your baby if it isn't treated, and which is more and more dangerous the closer you come to 40 weeks, but they can't take the more serious step of inducing labor until a test comes back, which can take up to a week, and then through some mistake it isn't run at all but no one can say sorry or explain exactly what happened because they want to protect themselves from lawsuits, and they still have to run the test and wait again because if they induce and you don't have the condition after all you might sue...

Felt powerless? Yes, for sure. Powerless and furious."

I was quickly validated, other women telling of how long it had taken to write their birth stories or things related to their birth stories.

Well, that's a relief.

Then I said:

"That makes a lot of sense. I had thought at first it was just me being slow, as I often am. Glad (sort of) I'm not alone! I was a little bit worried that as I waited I would forget details, so it was good to read about the women in the birth study remembering accurately decades later. I mean, there are some details I think I'd have trouble remembering exactly now, but that's (mostly) because I was a little bit fuzzy on them from the beginning. It can be hard to remember the exact sequence of external events when there's so much going on, and it's been days, and you're just trying to sleep, or concentrating on not shaking, or not throwing up, or whatever."

And once again, I find myself writing more intro into why I'm telling these stories than, well, actually telling them. Heh. And again, maybe that's why. The preamble has grown into a post of its own, though once again, even when I get into the meat of things, it's hardly even the beginning of the beginning of the story.


*                              *                                *

Yes. Even when I stop posting links and explaining why this has taken me so long to post, and why it seems important to share with you -- even when I start telling the actual story, still I will ramble. I have rambled, in the drafts I've begun. It seems it's all I can do to get this story out (though it's beyond me NOT to tell it), and I have nothing left for complicated editing, nothing left to resist the flow of words that try to put off the inevitable by talking about tangents.

So I'm sorry for that, and yet I'm not. I think I won't try to resist, anymore. I see a link that makes me say, "Yes! That's why it's hard and important!" I'll post it... yet another one... before going on with the story. I'll beat that dead horse into the ground, for as long as I need to, however long it takes.

Um. That is not the most poetical of images. You didn't see that.

And I will publish long, long blog posts, too. Screw what I'm "supposed" to do.

*                              *                                *

Here. Here is a link that feels beautiful, important, honest, and holy, from Elena at "I think, therefore iambic pentameter." She writes gorgeous poems, many of which I want to share with you, but this one is prose that feels like a poem. She published it last week; I read it yesterday, and began writing this. Its mood has shaped this post of mine a little, I think; I hope so and am glad if it has.

"Songs in the Dorian Mode" is about abortion, but it's also about motherhood. Why would that ever be a surprise? Since I became a mother (and before) I've seen other Christian mothers say things to the effect of, "Now that I'm a mother, I can't imagine how anyone could take their baby's life. It seems even more horrific than I used to think!"

Well... yes. True. But.

I'd never before seen any other pro-life mothers say the thing I've thought, the "Yes, but it's also easier to imagine how anyone could, because I never knew before how hard a pregnancy can be, even an 'easy' one." Even as a woman doing a passable simulation of a responsible adult, with a supportive husband and other family close by, ready and willing to help. Even when wanting this baby with all of my soul.

Does it stain us to admit that? Dear Lord, I don't think so.

And sometimes all you hear are the dismissive comments, the "You think you're tired now? Just wait until the baby comes, haha!"

Not even talking about labor and delivery, yet. Calling a baby in the womb an "inconvenience" is much like calling a toddler an "inconvenience" -- sad and awful, but also one of the biggest understatements in the history of ever.

Don't minimize the child, but don't minimize the sacrifice, either.

Another one of Elena's posts is applicable here, a heartbreaking poem called Rachel.

To think, as Pamela Ribon said, "...every single one of us is here because someone went through this for us. Why don’t we all know what happens to people when they get pregnant?" So many know so little. I include myself in that, at least until it was my turn.

I'll never hear my birth story from my own mother, now. Short of... some kind of miracle, I suppose. She's too far gone to understand the question.

Elena says it far, far better than I just did. With so much compassion, so much empathy and pain and understanding. She does not minimize anyone; not the baby, not the mother.

And she bares her own soul, her own scars, until all I can say is "This," cliché or no.

I would quote from her post, but I don't know where to stop, so I'll just say, go read. Thank you.

Thank you, Elena.