Today...

I was driving this morning to visit my mom. Last hospital go around I found a quick, easy relatively traffic free route. So it was uneventful and some what relaxing. I was listening to Christmas music on the local Christian station, Beth was looking out the window.

So I was thinking-and thinking, and thinking. All I needed was to hold my husbands hand. Quietly and listen to music. It would have made everything all better. Easy to handle. But he was at work. Making it possible for me to drive to the hospital every day. To be close to my family.

Then I started to cry. So I cried in tune to "have yourself a merry little Christmas". All the way there. Then I was fine. Well not really. But I didn't want to cry any more.

So its official. I'm a big sappy suck. Please someone shoot me.

Social Media can teach a lesson or two?

I haven't been posting-I'm a horrible person. Our family has been suffering a few upsets and I've been trying to keep it on the down low. I feel what I'm about to share with you might help.

When I was a teenager I dated a young man-it didn't work out on the main reason I didn't like his mother. It took a boyfriend or couple more to realize that shouldn't effect your decision of a man-but alas at 17 the most emotional choices tend to rule. What I will say about his mother is that she was a good woman who worked very hard as a foster parent. She still continues to this day-which brings us to present day. Dropping DD off at the grade one doors I peer over and there she is with the latest getting ready to join the masses at the same school. I had always made it a point to be friendly-and at least say hello. Its the easiest way to keep on the up and up on the snoopy gossip of people you don't talk to any more but occasionally think about.

So with my biggest smile, and latest Facebook update on hand-right down to the gender of the little peanut. I congratulated her on being a Gramma for the first time.  How wonderful it was going to be to have a new baby boy around! She smiled a very tight smile and said thank you-while tears started falling. They'd had a falling out-hadn't spoken in months, possibly years. I had no idea-I mean who posts that kind of stuff on Facebook? Not a man who tells his ex girl friend and approximately 230 people before telling his own mother-fall out or not. A few months later-I find I'm a Facebook friend short.

I don't know what happened-and frankly I don't care. I didn't send him a message, I just quietly walked away and chewed on the foot in my mouth. But as I sit here waiting for an update from the hospital on my mother. And going through a VERY major surgery my father had with many complications from chemo, to the recovery bus hitting him hard a couple times. I'm more and more convinced I didn't do any thing wrong. I was embarrassed-and completely heart broken for her. Not only did she not have her grown son to share the joys of adult hood with. But she heard about one of the biggest joys on the school play ground.

The curse strikes again. Curse of the Facebook announcement gone awry! I worry about my fights with my mother-at least I can sit here worried about her and call.

All the things I want to do.

Today a man I know had his first book signing. It was exciting, thrilling, and I was so happy to have at one point in time been in close enough contact to share the hallways of high school at lunch hour with him. Its been nearly 10 years since I've walked the hallway of that school-and that school is still the same distance away from me today-as it was 10 years ago.

As I read his little personal message to me-slightly generic but personal enough to quietly remind me he remembers. I'm encased with a jealously that I tend to limit to the wealthy and people who appear to not work. How cool and neat is it to have a book, a story, your imagination published for all of the world to see. From the little I've read its far better written that the brain smut I usually prefer (cue 50 shades reference here).  The care and effort put into this moment, HIS moment is so apparent that one can't help but be happy for him.

As I quickly converse with members of my graduating class, and former classmates I clue in there is only so many times I can introduce my children and state "No I stay at home, I'm not working any more" before I start to bore myself. I try to inject subtle witticisms and self depreciating humour that even to me seems far reaching, and slightly pathetic.

I love my children, and the gifts I've been given, the choices and subtle changes in my life that brought me to a point exactly opposite as I'd imagined.  I love them with all I have. I just sit here and wonder can I have the courage to bring them with me to try something new? The tenacity, ambition, contacts, networking, WORK needed to bring forth the winds of change myself.

Maybe its time to take the children, my husband and grab some crayons and make our own sign. Together, as a family.  Maybe a formers classmates glory and shining moment will help fuel all that I need to do.

Now just to find what I'm good at.


You can purchase his book for Kobo here.
and on Amazon Here

Why I dread dinner time.

I hate making dinner. There I said it. Its not that I'm a horrible cook and everything ends up burnt. Its if I don't get it right I get so angry I can't even look at the food. Or anyone in the house. I'm angry that no one bothered to offer up what they want for supper. Or that no one else offered to make it. Its a fight to get the kids to take a more than a few bites, or not have it end up on the floor. With 5 of us in the house (4 eating dinner). Its never right.

Today for some stupid reason the rice didn't cook all the way through. Made it the same way I do every single time. The sauce for the chicken tasted like nothing. Why bother if your rice crunches and curry tastes like creamy water?  So no I didn't eat dinner. I actually threw the whole thing out.  (After the chicken and veggies were forced down the children's throat).

I don't actually eat out because I'm being lazy all the time-although some days that's what it is. Its because I know the kids won't fight chicken nuggets and fries, and hubby just likes bacon. I didn't have to make an entire meal that someone complained about. Left overs don't rot in the back of the fridge with a promise to take it to work the next day. I hate left overs almost as much as cooking dinner. Seems counter productive doesn't it?

So I said it.  I hate dinner. I hate making dinner, and the full ritual that comes with it.

I. Hate. Dinner.

Superior Momma Syndrome

There was a little boy in my daughters class last year that had questionable habits, and manners. Not to mention just a stinking bad attitude that I wanted no part of or my daughter to pick up. After a few bumps along the way class room rules were put in to keep them separated and my lovely cheeky daughters innocent attitude was intact for another day.

Here comes the most exciting news of our summer-for Keeley that is. This little guy has moved in across from us on the other side of the Condo Complex. Now there is a common green area right in the middle where all the kids like to play-we parents take turns looking out the window and tattling on the children with glee.  The rules are simple, everyone joins in, we all make sure the toys get to the right house at the end of the night, no bugging, the little ones-6 and under-do NOT leave the green space, and respect each others space when necessary. (the 5 year olds don't bug the 10 year old boys playing gun-a-thon on the other side.) Now short of saying no to absolutely no out door play and keeping her away from the other neighborhood kids, I'd decided to let her play with him in a group setting.

He stole her stuffed dog Sonata. With a gleeful "finders keepers" chant, another mom went and knocked on is door to get his mother to police this situation. Tonight coming home from the mall-where its 15 degrees cooler than my house-he was out playing dangerously close to the road. After myself and another mother screech in fear for him to get off the road Keeley very keenly observes to me-"His mom is so neat hes allowed to cross the street with out her AND hes allowed to leave the green space-why can't I momma?"

To my personal embarrassment, my split second blatant judgement surfaced in my answer.

"Because I care about you to much to raise you like nobody loves you."  Ha ha-oops. We all know how honest 5 year olds are. Lets see how long it takes before I have a problem with this child and his mother whom I've never met and have already judged so harshly by her child's actions.

Am I just trying to raise my daughter what as I view as "correctly"? Or letting my own womanly bitch fit be the judge? I just dont' know. But I don't know that in a complex where we can all see each others front doors, this little guy isn't being supervised at 10:15pm.

But now that hes gone in I can now shut this down and go sit inside with my lap top and get to the important work of facebook & pintrest.

Happy Canada Day!

Today was awesome. With our house right on the parade route we have first dibs on seating on our lawn. Front and center. Gramma and Grandpa were there so were some good friends of ours and their kids. Lots of yea haws and happy Canada Day's were shared.

Later we went to our friends house  for a hot dog roast and a few drinks while the kids played like crazy animals raised feral in the back yard. Heres some proof today migh have been TOO epic.

1. Hubby of friend brings home a huge inner tube from a tire for the kids to bounce on and roll down hills. Already a bad decision but hey its Canada day.

2. Few beers in said hubby climbs on top of fence and decides to prove his awesomeness to his kids how he too can bounce on an inner tube. He belly flops ass kisses his head. We're all fairly certin he's died. After a few minutes he gets up and this is the dialouge.

Me: What were you doing? (I'd missed the actual jumping but witnessed the pained groaning)
Him: Being awesome, and showing to my kids what an awesome athletic dad they have.
Me: Do you need me to drive you to urgent care or call an ambulance?
Him: Ask me after a few more beer
He limps off unable to stand up straight groaning everytime he breathes.  Much laughter insues at the pained look on his face.

3. Hubby asks for a muscle relaxant for pain-once again says no to being driven to Urgent Care

4. Muscle relaxant kicks in.

5. Conversational proof its kicked in-I would like to note this was in front of myself, another friend, and her hubby. And Children. Not the girls thank god.

Him: QUICK HONEY, I need you to run upstairs and smell the girls barbies, I peed on one and am not sure which it is.
Her: Are you mentally delayed? What did she give you attitude and you decided to piss on her parade? whats wrong with you?!
Him:  I don't know I was deep in thought and missed the toilet, I think she was blond.
Her: You're not kidding?
Him: NO I'M NOT! I tried to find it but they're all wet, not just the one I peed on. I don't know!!!!!

Happy Canada Day every one, hope you kept it safe and let someone take you for medical attention when you needed to!

All done our first school year

Yesterday Keeley finished kindergarten. I went to pick her up, it was a happy day. I swear the teachers couldn't throw those kids out of there fast enough-and the kids were more than happy to let them. I picked her up, she threw her report card at me, and ran as quickly as she could to play with the children she came to know so very well in the past ten months.

I felt HORRIBLE that I didn't cry her first day of school. I took a few pictures, chatted with other moms over how small all the kids looked with their big back packs, and there they went into school. Ready to face what that first day would bring.  I simply went home and on with my day.

But yesterday, once we were in the van, buckled in. I read her report card-how she'd improved over the year. I don't know if its the lack of sleep, the increasing heat of the summer.  I teared up.  It was embarassing.

It was exciting that first day. Yesterday-it hit home, she isn't a little preschooler starting her journey into a school career thats going to last over a decade. Yesterday she was well into that journey that was going to fly by for all of us. This is the part that really helps her personality show, change, develop. I teared up because I realized, when we are done with all the classes, weekends, teachers, and summer breaks. I'll have a woman-not a five almost six year old with nobby knees and a messy pony tail learning how to write her name and speak another language.

I'm not excited for her to start grade one in September. I'm excited-and nervous to meet her in 12 years. When shes done, and moving on. Shes not my first baby girl today-she my woman in the making. My daughter, I'm so very proud of and blessed to have her with me.

GAHHHHHHHH EBF Rant

I exclusively breast feed my son. There I said it-boy am I glad I have that out in the open now.

Wait theres more. My oldest daughter was exclusively BOTTLE fed, my second-who was sick, was combo fed. So I'm not 100% sure what type of parent I am. I watch the mommy convo boards, and see women attacking each other for how they feed their babies. I've been on both sides and in the middle-yes the all mighty boob is best. But guess what? In this modern world S&^% happens.

But because I'm on baby number 3, and worked REALLY hard to finally get this boob power down my rant is on that. I"m so TIRED of being made to feel like a granola crunching, pot smoking, no hair cut hippy because I nurse my baby. There was a picture (Posted below) that is clearly a joke. The comments I saw on there about how those of us just found it funny are horrible people for not thinking of the dying formula fed children of the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE.

Yes that's right, it was an argument over the zombie apocalypse, and how formula fed babies are the next food for the undead. I was made to feel sorry for some chick who didn't or couldn't breast feed her baby. Yup I have to feel bad, and horrible for the mom who can't produce milk. Or choose not to, or was taught incorrectly on how to nurse their baby. All this while I was trying to enjoy a Internet witticism about zombies. What a day smasher.

So here's my proposal, from now on as long as its only formula and/or Breast milk we don't jump down each other's throats? If its chicken blood, rum, and gravy then we'll talk. But the other two-we'll just leave alone and live in peace. Me with my boobs, and her with her bottles. Because guess what? Both of them have nipples which mean they're sort of the same. Food delivery devices. Yup that what it all is. Just another way to eat. And isn't food good?

You should listen to me because I have super powers.

Sometimes it pays off to have more than one child. I get to witness very cool and fun milestones from different age groups all in one go. Like the end of year Kindergarten concert that I cried like a spaz, while breastfeeding (newborn mile stone) and my 18 month old yelled "NO KEKE NOOOOOOOO" at her sister for the whole thing. See milestone number 3. All the awesomeness in one contained moment of head-achy pain and love.

Other positives you get to see for your self how often in your child's life you'll beg someone "to let you run away." or "Stab yourself in the face in protest."  The little ones remind you of how BADLY you handled it before, while the Big one reminds you-verbally to your face, and with choice adjectives you taught them as toddlers that were funny at the time-how you're STILL a mean parent.

Curse the rules and NOs that come out my mouth that keep you alive. CURSE THEM ALL.

Any way-back to why you should listen to me.

I have all of this real life, in real time experience to draw upon! Example: I now know how to get ink off of my eReader screen with out further damage to the devise.  (Of course only if you don't throw it in anger at the wall for the fact that there's ink all over the screen and you can't read through it. Which turns out CAN be put back together but that's another story for another day.) Also how the latest stain removal product holds up to breast milk, newborn poop, and general gross goobery toddler stains all in one article of clothing. (Wish that was a bad day but alas that's the norm.)

All this happens at once, I'm very clearly smarter because of having more than one child.  We can discuss why my almost 6 year old is engaged, and already rules the school. While I keep an eye on my monkey like toddler who climbs like she has sticky pads all over her body. all this STILL while I'm whipping out the boobage to feed and sustain life.  Really if there was enough water, my breasts could in theory keep my whole family alive long enough for help to arrive. And I could STILL provide even after said theoretical disaster.

So all this really boils down to one cool, kind of amazing thing this slightly squishy body has.

I clearly have powers and am destined to be a super hero. 

Next post Cape Design?

the poopy days...

I had a REALLY bad day a couple weeks ago. Felix had hit his 3 week growth spurt and had nursed CONSTANTLY for just over 24 hours. I was expecting it. But really nothing can prepare you for the sheer exhaustion of the day.  Girly #2 had decided the best place for cereal was the floor and my HAIR. And the dog was trying to sign his death warrant.

 So hubby was generous enough for me to go grab a coffee from Tim Horton's. I needed it-every one else in the house NEEDED me to need it-if only to be nice to them. The drive through line up was REALLY long. So I sucked it up and walked inside. Although the line was long it was going much faster than the drive though.

Now I looked a hot mess as it was. I'm sure my shirt was wet with breast milk. My belly still kinda pouchy from just giving birth. I'm think there were cheerios in my hair from a certain someone not liking cereal any more. Then I noticed it-on my arm, a yellow mark that looked like mustard, or lemon filling. Or just SOMETHING yellow. In my sleep deprived state there was one way only to figure it out-I licked it. While in line at Timmie's, like a weirdo who licks things for fun. I licked it. I would like to admit-it was baby poop. The yummy squishy yellow poop of the new born. I licked it.

I realized my mistake INSTANTLY. Looking up to see if any one noticed me I quickly tried to figure out how to gracefully remove myself from the fecal tasting situation that just occurred. I thought I was in the clear-until I heard the words "Seriously-we've all been there, don't worry about it. I understand." I UNDERSTAND. I doubted this voice at first-until I turned around and saw her school aged child, and TWINS. Then I got it-It was obvious, I was so obvious. We BOTH had newborn babies at home. She UNDERSTOOD. I was okay after that. I ordered my coffee with confidence. Stained shirt, and saved snack in my hair. I had CONFIDENCE that day.

Rock on Sister Momma, Rock on.

Sound Tracking my walks...

Just so we're all aware-I listen to WAY to much music. Since Felix has been born-heck since Elizabeth has been born I haven't had time to chill out and listen to alot of tunes lately. So I've been going for a walk everynight alone with my iPod-rekindling a long dormant relationship that is just as interesting as it was before.  I've downloaded (and paid for) thousands of songs. I go through moods-alternitive rock, pop, a LITTLE bit of country. I've been soundtracking my thought-elaborating, imagining, and enlarging my awesomeness.

As I walk and listen I pretend to be an ass kicking goddess that is 50lbs lighter, and full of sympathy, brilliant reflection. Not to mention music can just in general help you feel better about everything!

Basically I'm just sharing what I felt like listening to today.  So enjoy and any suggestions would be AMAZING.

David Bowie/Queen-Under Pressure

Tired Pony-Get on the Road (awesome alt rock band with Gary Lightbody-lead singer of Snow Patrol, and Zooey Deschanel is heavily featured-Cute Lead in New Girl)

Rhianna/Eminem-Love The way you Lie

Florence and the Machine-Kiss with a Fist (Heck I have ALL thier music on my iPod)

Adams Rib-Melanie Doan (Because a Canadian better have some awesome canadian music)

Fear-Disturbed (What? Sometimes I run not just walk)

In this Moment-The Gun Show (Yup it can be one of those days too)

Flyleaf-Beautiful Bride

Lady Gaga-ummm I MIGHT have everything shes ever came out with.

30 Seconds to Mars-This is War (Jared Leto just to hott to ever let go of...) 

Yeah Yeah Yeahs-Maps

This is such  SMALL sampling of what I listen to. I seriously just hit random and wrote down the first handful-except the spice girls. I'm way cooler than that!

To be physical or not?

****~~~Warning to my mother-its about sex. Don't read it, you don't want to know~~~****


We had our 2 week appointment with the midwifes yesterday. Everything is great! I'm healthy, hes healthy. No stitches to worry about-nothing we're good to go. Which means we're good to go. You can not begin to understand how happy that makes hubby. Never mind the fact that I have a boob parasite that is now my main man. Or that my new nick name is squishy (thank you miss cheeky 5 year old).

I'm not mentally ready. Heck I wasn't ready weeks before he was born. Theres something about being the size of a small car, and needing to get the aiming right-or it goes horribly wrong. We tried, once at about 38 weeks. Baby kicked so hard that the mood was DONE. Gone. Nothing left. It was made worse that when we looked at my belly-it was very clearly a foot sticking out to the side. If that ISN'T sexy I don't know what is?

Its all fun and games until someones head gets crushed because your center of gravity is so off that you fall over like Jenga. Especially on a soft bed. I know we joke about needing helmets-when the time came though I just couldn't follow through.

So now we sit here-weeks between snuggles, and hubby is getting antsy. I just want a nap. and I'm not 100% ready to embrace the post baby body. Maybe next week-but right now I'm just going to hug my little tank, ohhh and ahhh over his baby pudge and hope my husband forgives me.



Felix Michael Neil
May 8/12
Weight: 8lbs 10oz
Length: 21.5"

 Picture courtesy of Pretty as a Pixel photography. Isn't he just perfect in all his large amazingness?

I'd like to note that as of today (the 2 week mark) my gorgeous little tank is over 9lbs.

I had my baby!

I've had such grand plans for this blog :(. Stories on why I choose placenta encapsulation, home birth, what a home visit with my midwife was like. All these wonderful things. And in my waiting for baby to arrive I neglegted the post. I re-folded clothing a dozen times. Washed walls, windows, painted, re-organized. Then I waited, and waited. For 5 whole extra days I waited. My due date came and went-with nothing. Only a twinge of gas that had my hopes so high that I didn't sleep for 2 days in anticipation of the "next contraction".  I had "fake labor" which is apparently common in baby #3. Its apparently a hyper sensitivity to uterine contractions. Basically the fake ones hurt more than the previous babies, so we keep thinking its the real thing...so on that note, I'll share his birth story with you.

I have NO idea what the weather was like the day he was born, I woke up with contractions 3 minutes apart that hurt like hell. It was 5am, because I remember needing to wake up our midwife. My doula (my lovely amazing doula). My mom (my lovely mommy who would in heart beat kill me if I asked her to because of the pain). My midwife came-from south Calgary I might add-just to tell us. I was at 0cms, wasn't even effacing (thining out), and I was a great big whiney baby for the fake labor call. We were told to get some rest take some tylenol, and a gravol to help me sleep. So everyone went home, I cried took a couple of pills, layed down with a heating pad then promptly threw up. Should have known something was going on then.

My mom who was a little late to the party showed up, took one look at me and bossed my husband around to call her back. (Trust me we were thankful). About 15 minutes later they had increased in intensity so badly that I was convinced I had to walk to the hospital for "not dialating". Neils mom was suppose to watch the girls and was a good 45 minute drive away. So we had to call in a friend of ours to watch the girls. She had to bring her son-and our doula who had now sent her husband to work, had to bring her son also. Our lovely midwife came back-she was tired you could tell. (Boy I wonder who woke her up?) 

This is where I'm convinced there was a conspiracy going on. I was in pain-intense pain, I had back labor, and I was convinced I wanted drugs-lots of drugs. Now for people who aren't familiar with my home we live in a town house-why is this important you ask? Stairs-lots and lots of STAIRS.  Stairs are great for getting labor going, and I have a strong suspicion that everyone knew if they got be back up stairs in our bedroom we weren't going any where. They were right. I was checked and in the 45 minutes total she was gone I'd gone from 0cm to nearly 6. I'd like to state thats more than half way to the end. and alot to dialate in under an hour. See I wasn't crazy!

Things moved fairly quickly-the bed was set up, I moaned and groaned my way through a bunch of contractions. Hung out in the shower for a few then all of a sudden I felt him shift and there he was. Ready to come. It had been maybe an hour since our midwife had come back-I wasn't paying attention. Apparently everyone else was. So a handful of pushes later he was here-there was meconium staining again this time. Heck there was a TONNE of meconium.  Seriously my little guy was green tinged when he came out. He was fine, and just as screamy as his sister. (who was also a meconium baby).  Then the back up midwife showed up. So she hung out with us and did paper work.

It was really cool, I had him in the "all fours" position. (Doggy to all you others out there). Way WAY easier to get him out. There was a moment when I went to find a focus point and the room was full. Full of every person who was in the house-including the kids. The funny thing? Keeley didn't stick around to see the birth, it scared her a little. The boys though-man they were in there like dirty shirts. (The boys and Keeley are all the same age). It was sort of-well wonderful. I don't think I would change a thing. Except maybe the pain-and the grossness that is giving birth. Everyone was wonderful and gave us lots of space and time to meet Felix as a family.

This is the super abridged version. I could make it even longer with my thoughts and every feeling I had. But this is the gist of it. Back labor sucks I wish it on NO ONE. Labor hurts in general-but if you're lucky enough to get the birth you want, it makes it all wonderful. I will say this, you need to prepare mentally for what you're going in for. Pain relief, stress relief, methods of coping, and an understanding that its okay if it doesn't go as planned.

To allow her to witness-or not?

Today I hit 34 weeks.  Six weeks until my due date, but really only 3 weeks and they won't stop me if I go into labor...or if I go over 8 weeks. But we'll leave THAT possibility alone. With Baby #3 fast approaching there's been a lot of baby talk. When he gets here this, when he gets here that, we need to do this or that BEFORE hes here.

With all this talk and my upcoming home visit, the talk has turned to a birth plan and who's going to be there with us. There's a couple obvious who's. My darling hubby, my mommy, the midwifes, and our doula.  Maybe my hubby's mom to help with the kids. But I'm uncomfortable with the possibility she'll see the action-and in a full action shot. So we're still discussing that one. And like last time-I've sort of ignored the girls role in the whole thing. Darling E will wonder whats going on but doesn't really understand it. Keke though...this time shes asked if she can be there with us. As this is a home birth really anything goes. If I want her there, everyone will be more than welcoming to have her there with us.

Now I've been a good mommy and shown her a couple birthing videos, she knows where the baby comes out of. Where hes growing. But knowing and witnessing are different things. VASTLY different things. I don't want to traumatize her so badly she'll never have kids of her own. But then again a fully working knowledge of the workings is the best sex-ed there is. Especially with her surrounded by family, and a team of midwives and our doula who shes now known for a couple years.  I want her to believe that the best way to have a baby is with your family, with love and support. Not even in the home, just surrounded by joy and happiness. Even with mommy grunting and groaning in pain. She doesn't want mommy to "have an owie THIS BIG" (that's when she held out her arms as wide as they'd go). And if she doesn't want to stay-because I won't make her. Who's going to take her somewhere else where she'd feel comfortable again? This request brings up a whole new level of logistics.

What should I do? Introduce my ever moldable 5 1/2 year old to how birth REALLY is, or maybe let a slightly flawed sex-ed course cover it vaguely in 3rd or 4th grade while I pretend I know nothing?

The School Sugar Coup!

I get the nut allergy thing-I really truly do. I get the no sesame thing. I just can't handle the absolutely NO SUGAR thing. Maybe its because I"m an addict, maybe I just don't love my children as much as this other ONE PARENT does. I do feel that unless your child is going to die of an allergy, its not fair to shut out 25 other students of party fun.

One mom in my daughters Kindergarten class has raised such a stink over refined sugar, that to save her own sanity the teacher has banned all sugary treats from class room events. (Birthday cupcakes, Christmas, valentines, st. Patty's day parties). Oh-okay fine, what about a meat, cheese, cracker tray thingy? Veggies and Dip? Fruit and Yogurt tray? Plain bread and cheese curds? (see this is me trying to be accommodating and not so judgemental). Nope no processed food of any kind, shes ALLERGIC to sugar. And all those things have hidden sugar in them. Plus other "carcinogens"-I am telling you her kid used this word with the teacher. Huh? who would have guessed, and here I was worried about my electric bill-clearly my priorities are slightly skewed.

In the mean time I've left my scathing comments and thought processes to myself-since for some strange reason I don't make friends easily and thought this can be something I let go. I don't volunteer, and there are days when I'm a few minuets late picking my kid (and my friends kids) from school.  Really who am I to judge a parent to TAKES the time to be involved in her child's education-especially well enough to know all the kids names.

I saw this mom at a birthday party, there she was all snuggled in with her daughter on her couch while 15 kids run around screaming like lunatics, and I"m fairly certain I saw the cat tied up in a pink tutu strapped to a dolly stroller being flung down the stairs with great abandon-my kind of party!!!! Party Mom hurriedly asked me to write down my phone number and my daughters allergies, as shes yelling at the girls treating kitty-doll like a pinata. No allergies, feed her what you want. If she draws on your wall-well I MIGHT clean it ;). I turn around to go to work, then I hear a muttered comment about my lack of concern blah blah blah. I ignore it-I'm biding my time see, there's going to be a moment when she regrets opening her mouth. Well my friends that time is TODAY!!!!!

Leprechaun hunt is on at the school, St. Patrick's day is great for kids-colour recognition, only time its okay to giggle at little people. Well I just MIGHT be showing up during class time with 48 icing filled green short bread cookies. I would feel apprehensive about my bold move-offering candy and sugar filled confections in front of 26 5-6 year olds, and the daggers of death from Miss Crunchy if I hadn't been conspiring with other mothers. Why theres a green Jell-o mold coming today as well, as green veggie only tray with green ranch dip (provided by parsley not dye). Someone mentioned juicing green veggies at home and making a punch? well sounds like a party coup to me! I'll let you know how it goes. Something tells me the teacher MIGHT be involved in this-but I feel a don't ask/don't tell approach to this is best! 

Oh Conflicting parenting styles, how you make me superior and lacking at the same time...

There always seems to be arguments amongst people (over opinionated, over inter-web educated moms mostly) on different parenting styles. The latest bash/love craze seems to be fully attached parenting.  The battle of the crunch vs. smooth.

Attachment parenting in a nut shell-co-sleeping, extended breast feeding-into 3-4 years some cases, baby carrying, baby led weaning, skipping the mush stage of food prep, cloth diapering, in some cases NO diapering (since this is MY blog I'm gonna say it-YUCK!).  From my various blog/article/study Internet over-educating of myself it seems to be really a love it or hate it sort of undertaking. 

What about those of us in between? The semi-attached? The poor sets of parents who just do whats easiest for their squawk addicted babies who want to sleep with us, but still use the crib in a different room on a regular basis. The moms not whipping a boob out for them right before they head into afternoon preschool? Its this weird sort of limbo that makes it very hard to give a convincing argument in either direction.  We look un-committed and "try-hard". Trend following, vogue wave riding parents so to speak.

I never really breast fed my first I "tried" for about 2 days. My second I happily breast fed until I became pregnant with our 3rd at 8 months. I would have happily done it longer if I felt like holding a squirmy kicky, hyper active 8 month old to my sore nauseated tummy. I always thought I'd try it for the "years" category. Until one faithful day dropping my oldest off at kindergarten. I saw it-the attached mom I did NOT want to be.  She had her four year son in a sling-already made me judge her in a completely unnecessary way. Chatting with her just a little bit, then I noticed, little dude wasn't sick, or sleeping he was hanging out nursing. Just a little boob for snack-then he lifted his head, covered her chest himself and loudly declared "I'm done mommy!"  I was officially VERY uncomfortable.  Didn't help that I had full boob view for about 30 seconds...Too much naked of that one person I did not want to see. Nope, I'm obviously not very attachment that way.

I think I'll just keep doing what I"m doing. Pretending to be "attached" with my co-bedding only until a few months old, then its crib time for babe.  My 12 months (hoping) of breast feeding then they can go hang out at the dinner table.  I'm still in the middle hanging out here, pretending to be crunchy-when in fact I'm just not really all that much.

Holy Crap I waited 5 months...I'm horrible

As it turns out I'm an avid blog READER-not writer so much. Although there is new study to show that moms-stay at home, work at home, single, teen, married, christian, one eyed and any other kind of mom you can think of-benefit from blogging. They tend to have less depression rates over all, be more attuned to their children, and function better when they spend a few minuets a day/week blogging. So I'm going to be more vigilant about sharing my love and knowledge with the web abroad.

Here's whats going on in the mommy lane-I'm almost 32 weeks pregnant with a son!. Yay! baby time is almost here. The time has come to make a decision on all things birth related really I have any where from 5 weeks-10 weeks until baby boo gets here. Time to sort out the stuff and get going.

We have decided to do a couple things different this third time around, all kinds of crunchy granola things that make people question my intelligence. We will be encapsulating our placenta.  Its when the freshly birthed placenta is saved, dried with herbs, ground into a powder, and then taken in pill form. It suppose to support milk production, prevent post partumn depression,  re balance hormone levels faster and do all kinds of good things to my body. Or it might do nothing at all-either way seems like a fun interesting thing to try.

We've gone with a midwife again-can't remember if I've mentioned that. Up until this point the appointments are identical as the ones you'd receive with your family doc, or OB. Its now that the differences are REALLY starting to show. Birth plans, placenta encapsulation, birthing in a field while a western wind blows-we will all be naked of course. More on that later. (Well not really just getting ready to do it at home again.)  There are birth plans to make up, kits to put together, doulas to have nifty private appointments with. Really much different. I will share more next time. Don't want to over-load on my awesome birth plan-ness!

Thanks pretty people!