the christian left

I’m considering delivering my new baby at The Farm in Summertown, TN.  It’s a hippie commune well-known for philanthropic works and reinventing the womanly art of midwifery.

I have known since the moment I delivered our boy that I would never again have an epidural.  I felt my epidural site for a year after his birth, and I felt the birth.  By the time we all realized that the epidural wasn’t going to take,  it was too close to delivery to do anything about it.  My legs were useless, completely numb, and the birth was nowhere as bad as I could have imagined.  Sure, there was discomfort, especially as my doctor was forcing the baby into a true vertex position and unwinding the cord from his neck one of the times it was wrapped.  That part felt like it lasted three hours, but it couldn’t have been more than 45 minutes.  From start to finish, the labor was 5.5 hours.  I received my epidural before I experienced any pain, and then when the discomfort started, it was just transition.  I had the terrible shakes, cold, nausea, and then quickly I was able to work on getting the baby out.  So I did.  And I remember the tremendous relief from my body as he passed through it.  I also remember how amazing he looked even before they cleaned him up because I was holding him then.  I nursed him after they checked his breathing and wiped him down.  They left him with us for a good two hours before B went with him to get a bath and I ate.  I don’t have a negative birth experience — it all went how I asked for it to go.  But because I went through that, I know I can get back to the basics and do it on my own.

That’s where the Farm may come in.  If not them, then possibly a hospital, but it’s to be our experience.  Discomfort and all.  I want to feel it.

I can also choose midwives at Vandy, or in Franklin, or simply use my OB who will let me do as I please.  For now the options are open, but I’m really curious about becoming  a hippie for a few weeks.

Two years ago today, I was in labor with the boy.  Then he decided he wanted to tear his way into the world, so he did.  It’s gone  by pretty fast, but it’s been good to have a boy around.  We’re  making a special trip to the train store, and I’ll include some party pics later (by party I mean we’re having pizza and cake with our family tonight) if anything sweet happens.

In the new baby news, I haven’t gained  any weight yet at nearly 13 weeks, so I consider that a triumph.  Sickness has mostly left me, but I have a flare up now and again.  The baby’s heartbeat sounds really good, and it’s in the right spot.  I don’t really have a belly yet, but I’ll probably start doing some belly pics at some point to mark the progress.  I’m fearful that when the belly does kick in, it’ll be like a torpedo hanging out of my midsection all at once.  I guess I’ll wrap a few towels around  it and head out since I’m planning on ridding myself of most of my maternity wear.  Especially since it’s all wintery stuff.  I’ll try to concoct some shirts out of cold packs so I can keep my cool.  At least I will have  to find some tank tops and shorts.   That house really fat bellies.

Anymore the kids are sick and the belly buddy is getting to me.  Fatigue, sickness, you name it, they cramp my style.  I am unmotivated to work out, I’m depressed about my surroundings (like how they’re messy and cluttery), you name it, it needs some help.  Anyhow, I’ve decided to tackle at least one big thing a week.  Friday it was our closet.  Yesterday, it was our taxes.  Tomorrow, hopefully, it will be taking things to Goodwill.  See, after I did our taxes and spent the real amount of time that it takes to do the deductions, I was made aware of the beauty of giving to Goodwill.  I have 3.5 boxes full of winter time maternity clothes that I will not need with this new baby.  Provided that everything goes well and looks good with this baby (I have an appointment on Thursday) I will unload these clothes.  Realistically, when will I need them again?  If EVER, it would be way down the road.  And I’ll want new things.  So they’ve gotta go.  So I can make room for the shorts and tank tops you wear when you’re pregnant in August.  None of which I already own.  Pregnancy 3, and a brand new round of dumping tons of money on new clothes.  So it goes.

I have begun to worry a tad that I am at 12 weeks and don’t have a belly.  All of the chicks on my pregnancy forums are talking about outgrowing their clothes and needing Bella bands and maternity clothes, you name it.  Their belly pictures are cute and sort of rotund.  Mine is none of the above.  Possibly this is good — to spare me from yet another month of being large and uncomfortable.  But it’s scary to think that the main indicator I have at this point to know for sure the baby is growing is to see ME growing as well.  I’m sure I will, in time.  Right now, I just feel fat and dumpy and sick and unattractive.  And angry that I’m just going to get fatter.  But happy about the baby, to be sure.

So I cleaned out our closet.  B helped to go through his things, but I dug deep.  I’m sick of living with so much.  I feel like I’m turning into my mom who keeps it all — she couldn’t wait for us to leave so she could spill over her clothes into our closets when my brother and I both went away to college.  Ridiculous.  She and her sisters complain that my grandmother would “get rid of” things that were perfectly good and they still liked.  BUT WHEN YOU HAVE SIX KIDS you get rid of stuff.  Because stuff doesn’t define you.

I cleaned the baseboards, added a rug, dusted down all the organizers and ruthlessly got rid of clothes.  It was time.  I also made room for the handful of maternity items I just *might* get some use from this go round.  At least they’ll work until April.  Should I need them before then…

Here’s what it looks like now.

and…

and here’s what we are getting rid of…

It’s sad, really, to think I let it go that far.  And to look at the closet and know I could still get rid of about 30% of my things and still live a wonderful and fulfilled life.  Someone to convince me that it’s quality over quantity.

Next:  counters and new blinds.

I fired up the hot box tonight and whipped up some of this.

Lower-fat banana bread from the Veganomicon. And it was delicious. So much so that I had two nice slices…

I’m not sure if the kitchen is permanently up and running, but for tonight, it sure was. Enjoy.

So, I didn’t vote today because I voted early. But in case you were hoping to vote on something else today than a lesser of two evils, here’s a quick question.

What kind of counters should we get?

Choice 1 — Corian/solid surface (More expensive, but nicer-looking, maybe add a little value to the kitchen?)

Choice 2 — plain laminate (Cheaper, and I’d get to get the sink I was hoping to get and maybe a little nicer disposal.)

Help please!

OK, I scheduled the  laminate estimate.  That’s what we’re going to do.  Nobody can truly tell me the difference between solid surface and laminate other than the looks.  So, I’m going with the standard plus a single basin stainless steel sink. 

I’m not sure why I still love the weekends so much…  I don’t work professionally anymore, so weekends aren’t the superspecial time to spend with my kids that I never otherwise get.  In fact, since the kids don’t understand “sleeping in” there isn’t even that bonus to the weekend.  But for some reason, weekends are still special, and hopefully they always will be.  I guess I allow myself to kick back a little more than during the  week — I do less housework usually, and I eat more indulgently.  Of course, I allow myself to indulge a tad much.  I do dread Sunday mornings because they are a hassle, but it’s a good hassle.

So, today, I healed some personal wounds with muffins.  Sometimes if it ain’t broke, then you just don’t need to fix it.  I haven’t been up to par in the kitchen lately — usually soups that are less than noteworthy or straight up vegetable plates.  Uninteresting stuff.  People  get in funks from time to time and I am estimating I will slip out of it soon enough, but soon often feels like an eternity away.  Creativity has taken a hiatus, and new recipes aren’t as fascinating as they usually are.  I dragged my normally exhausted, reluctant, Saturday-morning-self to the table to enjoy warm muffins, yogurt, and some hot tea.

And  it was good.

I don’t even mind that we’re going to have six more weeks of winter.  Maybe some of that won’t be 67-8 degrees for the high the way Monday and Tuesday are supposed to be.  I just want a snow day.  SNOW DAY I SAY.  It’s been about five years since we had a REAL snow, you know, one that didn’t melt by 10:00 am.