Protection

I've learned that our dogs are exceedingly protective of me. It's really sweet. When Tim was gone, the girls staggered themselves around the house at night for maximum guard dog effectiveness. Bella slept on the top back of the couch (imagine an 85 lb. dog sleeping like a cat across the back of the sofa) with her head poked through the front curtains to watch. Katie slept on the landing of the stairs, ready to provide a second line of defense in case of intruders. They usually snooze on the couches. Bella usually sleeps on her back, paws up, as if she were a person. (A person with paws, anyway). It was really precious to see how they altered their habits while Daddy was gone. It made me feel safer. They are both the friendliest dogs ever, and if anybody ever did break in they would probably kiss them to death, but they stepped up and guarded us while we were alone without The Man of the House.

They are still looking out for me, too. Last night I was coming downstairs to turn down the thermostat. I was melting in my sleep! I hit the stairs wrong, half asleep with greasy feet (you know how they say to put lotion on your feet at night & then sleep in cotton socks? I'm convinced the cotton socks are to keep you from falling on your rear if you get up in the middle of the night) and took a tumble. My left arm got wrenched behind me and I rolled down the stairs to the landing. Bella woke with a start, she was immediately on high alert. She let out one quiet bark - "Woof!" as if to say, "Dad!" When there was no response, she barked again - only once, and a little louder, "WOOF!" "DAD!" Both girls ran to my side and started licking my skinned knees and elbows. Tim heard the commotion and came into the hall. I had him go shut the damn thermostat off, then arose on wobbly legs (the girls stood by my side, offering their strong shoulders as support) and headed back up to bed. Katie then decided she would sleep close to me to take care of me, so she spent the rest of the night upstairs with me.

When I awoke this morning, I found out that I hurt myself worse than I thought I did when I was half asleep during the night. I pulled my shoulder, hit my elbow, jammed my wrist, bruised my butt and hit my head. I'm a wreck today. I think it will be a pajama day at home.

Thank God I have the dogs to take care of me!

*swoon* My Hero!

I was on my way upstairs to get Jackson in bed, carrying my bag, Jackson's ba-ba bag (the little cooler bag we put an ice pack in and several milkies for him to have throughout the night), a shopping tote and probably five other things (classic mom/packmule situation) when my bluetooth headset fell out of my bag.

Let's backtrack on the headset. I know, I'm a princess. Blah blah blah. Whatever. Anyway, for Christmas I got a new Jawbone bluetooth headset. It's awesome. I love it. It looks like a cheese grater in my ear. It's fantastic, I highly recommend it. Anyway, it's kind of a pricey headset and I guard it like it's a national treasure. I like nice things, and I also try to take care of them. Especially electronics. My dad was what they call now an "early adopter" and he always had to have the latest and greatest gadgetry. And he would freak out if we used the wrong cleaning spray to dust his new whatever it was off, or if you vacuumed while the TV was on (allegedly it was bad for the TV?) because those expensive electronic toys were like his pets. So you see, my love for new things that light up and make noise is a genetic code in my DNA.

So my headset falls out of my bag (I call it my shark tooth, because it's a bluetooth and the name "jawbone" makes me think of Jaws and he was a shark), Bella sees it and in her peabrain doggie head says, "Ooh a snack!" and promptly takes it through the doggie door to her backyard. At this point I freaking lost it. I am totally feeling massive stress and pressure with this talking in front of church thing. My mom's coming. She's chronically late. Like it's a medical diagnosis for her, Chronicus Tardius. I have to look up the CPT code for ya. Anyways, I am sure that she will be late and then will be mad that we proceeded without her, and then she will get all huffy and yelly and this will look horrible in our new church that we've only been going to for a few months, but we really and truly love it there but I will be SHAMED from every going back after this ugly scene that plays out in my head... And then there's the talking in front of the entire church on stage under the spotlight. Tim sucks at public speaking so the duty has fallen upon me. I used to rock speeches and performances, but they were not nearly as important and ceremonial as my firstborn son's baby dedication in which we will thank God for the honor of having been entrusted with his precious soul and we will pledge before our family and church community to do everything we can to be Godly parents and raise a fine and upstanding Christian man. So the pressure, the pressure...the stress, the strain the pressure and then the dog takes my shark tooth out to the backyard and I. LOSE. IT.

I am all hysterical and weepy and panicky and can't breathe or think or move or do anything but just crumple down into a heap and cry. I'm so pathetic right now. But seriously, first it was the eyeliner and now I'm stressing about memorizing my Bible verses that I want to use for the baby dedication, and worrying about the Chronicus Tardiusness...and I'm like Tweek on South Park....it's TOO MUCH PRESSURE!

Tim comes downstairs and asks me what's wrong and I'm all "I dropped my shark tooth (jagged cry/wail/inhale) and Bella (cry) took it outside (hyperventilate) and it's dark (weep) and I can't (hyperventilate) find it and (wail) it's off (almost scream) so I can't see the light!!!!!!!"

And he grabs his wallet and puts it in his pocket.

And I say, "How is THAT going to help you find it???" He says he's going to Osco to buy a flashlight.

Oh.

Well, that's a good idea.

I slowly start breathing again. And as he heads out the door, I blurt out, "don't forget batteries!" You know, because at this point somehow I have my stuff together more than he does - me the blathering idiot, compared to his collected cool. Ha. He says, "okay".

Five minutes later, he returns and after a fruitful search of the yard he recovered my very mangled shark tooth. The earbud part has been snapped off the part that looks like a cheese grater and I am just so very sad. I really loved my shark tooth.

I sat with it and somehow figured out how to snap the earbud part back into the cheese grater part. I pressed the button, it powered on. I scream, "HOLY CRAP!" from upstairs and Tim comes running...thinking I was having some kind of meltdown again, I suppose. I showed him the blinking light, we made some test calls and voila - just like that - my shark tooth is all better!!!!!

Yay, yippee, hooray!!!! My husband is the most awesome, sweet, mellow and easygoing creature. He is totally the yin to my yang and tonight he was my super rockstar hero.

I told Jackson that if he grows up to be half as wonderful as his father is, I will consider my mothering him to be the success of my life.

Vixen Hunter

My most favoritest eyeliner in the whole world is Revlon Colorstay #205, called "Vixen". This morning, I got to the end of my tube. About a year ago, Coupon Chris scored some BOGO (buy one, get one free) with a coupon that ended up making it BNGT (buy none, get two free - the holy grail of couponing). Chris barely ever wears makeup but she knows I am totally the Queen of Cosmetics so she got me 2 of my favorite eyeliners. They're gone. I wear it almost every day. It's the best color in the world.

Tomorrow is Jackson's baby dedication at church and I was FREAKING OUT about not having my tried and true, trusty perfect eyeliner shade to wear while I stood on stage at church and talked to the hundreds of people.

So we popped in to Target to grab one. They were sold out. I needed some Rescue Remedy. Asking me to go without eyeliner is like asking me to go...naked or something. Tim sees my fright and says, "Meijer is open 24 hours." (It was 10 pm). I breathe a sigh of relief and we go across the street. I'm in the aisle at Meijer, looking at every Revlon Colorstay eyeliner...black, charcoal, brown, blackberry, navy...no Vixen. WHAT??? NO VIXEN????!!!!!111!!! So then I go by number...202, 204, 205...wait. 205 isn't Vixen anymore, 205 is now "Blackberry". Whatever.

If they changed the actual color, my life will be OVER. Okay, that was a little melodramatic but seriously...I've been wearing that same color since it came out, at least for 10 years. It, unlike Beyonce's exboyfriend whose stuff is to the left to the left, is irreplaceable.

Women are amazing...

...of course, you already know this. But here's something you'd never get a dude to do!

Worth a thousand words...

Yet another scandal in government, no big shocker there. What struck me about the article on CNN.com was the photo accompanying it.

His face says either, "I really screwed the pooch on this one." or "I'm sorry I got caught."

His wife's face says, "How could you? I am so broken and betrayed. You slimy greaseball of a man. I can't believe I have to stand by your side for this crap. I deserve better."

My heart is all kinds of sad for her.

An Open Letter, to the Cat in Heat in my backyard.

Dear Cat,

I have 2 dogs, not cats. And they are girls. So they will not come out to jump your bones anytime tonight, or any other night for that matter. Please shut up.

I will let them out so they can scare you from here to Rte. 59 if you don't can it. But seriously dude, people are sleeping or trying to sleep here, and you are making too much stinking noise. I'm sorry you're not getting any hot loving. I can't help you out, so please stop making such a racket in my yard. Thank you.

The deals mamas make

We have struck a deal with a couple who go to the same church as us and are in our local AP group - we're going to trade off babysitting favors for each other so we can both enjoy couples night out every now and again. Their little guy is 9 mos or so and is scooting/crawling. Naturally, I'm concerned about having the floors super clean so he doesn't end up going home looking all yucky.

I call my friend to confirm what time they are dropping the baby off, and express my panic at how I'm struggling to clean while trying to keep Jackson down for his nap. I usually lay down with him and this helps him stay asleep. I said, "Well, I'm freaking out because I want the floor perfectly clean because Isaac is crawling." She says, "Oh, please don't make your floor perfectly clean because then mine has to be perfectly clean when we watch Jackson!"

Ha ha ha. It's a deal. ;)

The Business of Being Born

The Business of Being Born is a new documentary film that was executive produced by Ricki Lake. It explores how birthing trends in America have changed over the years, and how our birth process differs from every other developed nation in the world, with a much higher infant and maternal mortality rate. After experiencing my own intervention-addled labor and eventual emergency cesarean section delivery with Jackson, I was sure I wanted to see the film. I was also sure I wanted to see it without the distraction of Jackson being around. I'm also pretty sure that Tim didn't really want to see an hour and a half of awesome vaginas, so I figured I'd better watch it while he's away. I ended up watching it with Jackson this morning.

I will be honest - there were moments that made me tear up. Pretty much every time a mother pushed out a baby on her own then gloriously lifted her baby up into her arms, a look of blended triumph, amazement and elation on her face...I cried. I cried thinking, "that's what I want." And then I cried more thinking, "I may never get to have that."

In shock, I listened as various doctors and midwives shared the statistics of birthing practices around the world. The US is so backwards when it comes to how we give birth. Then slowly, anger rose in me as they described the multiple interventions that cascade one into another and eventually result in an emergency section. I have been suspecting that I may have been a victim of the system, and hearing this information confirmed it.

I left the experience of the film steeled with a new determination to find a midwifery based practice who will take a VBAC with primary diabetes. I feel that based on the evidence I can produce of my first birth - my perfectly controlled blood sugars all verified by lab work, my perfectly sized baby, unheard of in diabetic mothers - I feel that if I can diminish the fact that I am diabetic since I am so well controlled it is almost a non-issue in my pregnancy, maybe I can sweet talk someone to take me if I also do parallel traditional "high risk" prenatal care. I won't put either me or our next baby (whenever we decide to start trying for next baby, which is not yet) at undue risk. I just want to have the opportunity to give my body the chance to do what it was designed to do. I'm not saying I have to have a natural birth. I just want a chance. Hopefully I can find a practice who is willing to give me that chance.

I also left the film experience reduced to tears, both mourning the loss of the birth that I wanted for Jackson afresh and also rejoicing in the amazing little person he has become despite of it. In the end, I was glad he was here when I watched the movie. I needed to hug him. I signed to him "hug mama" and he ran across the room to me, wrapping me in one of his passionately sweet embraces - he hugs you so hard, he trembles. We call it a "shakey hug". Of course, this made me cry all the more, and being the wonderful and precious, sensitive and loving little guy that he is, he then covered my face with his sweet baby kisses, adding an emphatic "Mwah!" with each slobbery peck to my tear-soaked cheeks. Like I said, he's become an amazing little person.

The Business of Being Born is currently in limited release in theaters; and available for home viewing from Netflix on DVD or streaming on demand.

Magic cleaning solution...

Mom spit can get almost anything off a child's face...


Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

While the Cat's away, the Mouse will...

Redecorate! Found a fab deal on this bedding set, which included a bed skirt, comforter, 2 Euro shams, 2 King shams AND two decorative pillows for $80 at the Bullseye Boutique. Hooray! I am SO in love with the color combo of slate blue and chocolate brown right now!

Reason #6,328,313 why I love cloth diapers

Sweaterbutt pants as a wool cover over a plain old fashioned prefold diaper. (I use a Snappi to close the diaper, no pins for me!) I mean, how cute are these woolies? I made them, or rather repurposed them out of an old wool/angora sweater that I picked up for $2.50 at Goodwill, using this method.

Reason #6,328,312 why I love cloth diapers

Pampers can't touch this in terms of cuteness!