Long Time Gone

My blogging hobby was put on the back burner recently to work on some things at home, mainly the kiddos and the house that was needing some major attention.  I love blogging but Midge is at an age where he is incredibly active and my blogging "mojo" is interrupted quite often.  So today we are having an unexpected thunderstorm and I am trying to have a relaxing day because not only is the weather lazy but Midge is on a sleeping strike and refuses to nap and is up off and on during the night.  To boot I am on call for 3 births in the next two weeks.  I didn't plan it that way, but one of my moms is far past her due date and the other two are looking like they may go early.  Thank God for back up doulas!

Happy Wednesday!

Just Call Me Wendy, CD(DONA)!

It's official...I am a certified birth doula through DONA International!  Woo-hoo! 

That's it...just wanted to share the news.

School Fundraisers Stink!

I love my kids' school.  I think the teachers are wonderful.  I do my best to volunteer my time and efforts to help the school as much as I can.  However there is one beef I have about public schools...fundraiser packets. 

Usually the fundraiser is presented to the children in an assembly to pump them up to sell things.  Of course they show the kids that they can win a radio, money, or obscure things like a disco ball or pens that double as compasses if they sell X amount of items.  The kids get excited and bring the packet home to me and ask me to help them sell 42 items so they can get a plastic disco ball light up thingie that looks like it was intended for a preschool rave.  I try to explain that to sell 42 items is a hard thing to do because people don't always need the things that are being sold and all of their friends have parents who are trying to sell the same stuff so the market for their product is pretty saturated.  It's not that I am trying to be discouraging, but I hate to see them get frustrated because the assembly pepped them up for a goal that isn't really reasonable in the first place.  So I buy something I don't really want or need to make them feel better and let them call their grandma with a sales pitch.  The neighbor lady buys some candy and that is about all we get.  They earn a plastic bracelet and feel jealous that Tommy's dad was able to take his catalog to work and sell over 100 items so Tommy gets awarded with a radio in front of the whole school, setting the other kids up for a heaping dose of jealousy and resentment towards me for not being more proactive in selling the random stuff nobody really needs. 

While I am on the rant, have you ever tried to explain to a six year old who doesn't seem to live in the same reality as you do that having 42 items doesn't mean you count the number of cars or that you have to sell 42 of your own toys or that you just own 42 items and therefore you get a prize?  It is enough to make you want to hit the bar before noon.  I tried to explain to him that he has to sell 42 items out of the catalog because he replies "I did!" and I keep trying to tell him he didn't and he insists that he did.  I try about 8 different ways to explain it and he is still walking around talking about the disco ball he will earn.  I give up and pray he forgets about the stupid ball. 

I wish that fundraisers sold things people need, not keychains or cookie dough (don't even get me started on the "Healthy Kids Cookbook" that featured fruit on top of a frosted sugar cookie).  Maybe I'd get excited if they sold natural items that I would actually use.  Reusable gift wrap anyone??

It Was Legendary

**Warning: Graphic description of puke mess...not for weak stomachs.**

Once again the stomach flu found it's way into our house.  It started with Midge and hit me and then went to Bear.  Last night we were dying eggs with the dye from boiled fruits, veggies, and spices.  After we were done Bear went to the couch and watched tv.  He seemed happy but said his tummy hurt.  While I was cleaning up the dye mess he went to the bathroom and came out and told me he had thrown up.  He was so matter of fact and relaxed about it that I didn't think he was telling the truth.  As I went towards the bathroom he told me "I thought I was done so I closed the lid and I threw up on top of the toilet."  When I walked into the bathroom I saw the most heinous of all vomit messes I had ever seen so I walked right back out, grabbing Bear's toothbrush on the way out, and shut the door.  I handed Bear his toothbrush and instructed him to brush his teeth in my bathroom.  With my sleeve over my nose I assessed the damage and decided I needed a plan.  Stephen walked in and asked why the house stunk like BO.  I showed him the bathroom and he looked dumbfounded.  "Really?  On top of the lid?" he marveled. 

Part of being a mom is not making a huge deal over things like puke and potty accidents but this legendary mess was going to take some dramatic measures.  I brought 10 towels, paper towels, cleaner, Lysol, a laundry basket lined with a trash bag and put on gloves and tied two towels over my nose and mouth.  I'm sure I was rebreathing a bunch of CO2 but I didn't care. 

It was everywhere...on top of the toilet, on the seat, in the toilet spattered from end to end of the bowl, down the sides of the toilet bowl, on the toilet brush, on the step stool, on the shower curtain, on the toilet plunger, in the trash can, on the side of the trash can, pooled behind the toilet, on the throw rug, in front of the toilet, on the side of the tub, on the side of the cabinets, and splashed up on the walls and plumbing behind the toilet.  Truly a legendary puke.  It took me about 20 minutes to clean and sterilize.  And I made it through without a single gag.  Yay mommy!

After things were back together I put my sickie to bed.  I knew I could lecture him about the proper way to puke into the toilet but instead I gave my big boy lots of love and told him I hoped he felt better soon.  As I tucked him in I thought about all the things I've done over the years for my kids that are gross, heartbreaking, painful, or that required a great sacrifice on my part.  I find that I don't regret or resent any of my choices or my children for the things I do for them by necessity or by my own free will.  I love my babies more than I can put into words and I would gladly clean up a thousand puke messes if it meant I could still be there to tuck them in at night.

Captain Crunchy vs The Junk Food Kid

The crunchier I have become the more I find that I have had to learn tactful and delicate responses to people who don't live as I do. I don't think of myself as a judgemental or critical person, but there are many times that I have to think before I speak when respond to the comments or actions of others.

This last month has been especially hard. Stephen and I took Midge to Iowa to visit family and I found myself smack dab in the land of processed foods. The first thing I learned was that the term "juice" didn't mean 100% organic juice but Kool-aid. What I call "soda" was "pop" to everyone else and it flowed freely not only to the adults but the children. So immediately I thought "Okay, I need to pick my battles but I also need to figure out how to communicate my feelings on junk food." So I allowed my son to have a sugary artifically colored nutritionally void drink and McDonalds chicken nuggets and fries. In conversation I mentioned that I try to keep a healthy diet at home but on vacation I would let things slide a bit. It was a vague hint but one I hoped would be picked up on. Fortunately our hostess filled the fridge with raw veggies and strawberries and I was sure to make a fuss over them. It was tough because we were staying with the sweetest, most gracious relatives and I didn't want to seem snooty, yet their definition of "the good stuff" was my very definition of "the bad stuff." So to be funny I made a joke or two about needing my "rabbit food" and even teased "I don't know how you all poop!" when I noticed their meals had no vegetables or fruits. I helped with dinners and clean up to show my appreciation but inside there was a loud voice that screamed "That drink has HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP and RED DYE 40!!" When a family member snuck Midge a sippy cup full of soda pop I gave my husband a look that said "DO SOMETHING!" He let him have a few sips and then switched cups out to one with diluted apple juice. And I noticed a huge change in Midge. He went from calm and sweet to grumpy and he was always asking for more junk food. He was more agressive and I could see him riding sugar highs and falling deep into sugar lows. By the end of the trip he was falling apart. Once we got him home and on healthy foods he went back to being his normal self.

I just hope to get the family out this way sometime. It may be a bit of a culture shock, but I guarantee you they will be pooping a whole lot more on a nutritionally dense diet! ;)

It's My Favorite Time Of Year

It's like a sweet surprise every spring.  The orange groves around my house start popping out orange blossoms and their intoxicating perfume fills the air.  I look forward to the tiny white flowers every year.  As a kid I grew up surrounded by orange groves and the smell of orange blossoms fills my childhood memories.  I recall one day lying on my bed writing a love letter (back before email).  It was my senior year of high school and things were perfect in my life.  It was a beautiful 80 degrees outside and the sun was beginning to set.  My windows were open and the sprinklers were on outside.  A cool breeze over me and it was filled with the perfume of sweet orange blossoms.  It was the best feeling.

Now I try to bring them inside with me whenever I see them.  They never last long but I put them in my hair so I can smell them all day.  One night before my husband and I were married I pulled back my covers to find he had picked a bunch of orange blossoms and scattered them in my sheets.  I slept so well that night.

They are more than a flower to me...they return me memories and provide reassurance that I am home.  I will never grow tired of taking time to smell my favorite flower, even if it's only for a month or two out of the year.

Uter-us! Not Uter-you!

With the recent negative media surrounding "Octomom" and her decision to have a large family without the means to support them I feel the need to speak up for the moms who have decided to have more than the standard two and a half children who actually take the time to love and support them so they grow up to be well-adjusted adults.




















I have three children, so already I have heard my fair share of negative attitudes regarding my procreation plans, especially since my first two were a girl and a boy and there is an unwritten law about stopping once you get one of each. While I don't necessarily feel the need to justify my choices I feel the need to let the general public know that just because someone has a full minivan doesn't give anyone the right to vomit opinions on the soccer mom inside.

Believe it or not, there are families out there who have more than two children who actually do quite well. They are self-supporting and their children are well behaved with few exceptions. They aren't careless abour their birth control nor do they feel the need to draw their self esteem from their children. While their children might not have the most expensive clothing or have to share rooms or sacrifice some things for their siblings and that is teaching them to live for people other than themselves. The older ones may help the younger ones but it's part of living in a community of people. Most parents understand that whether you have two or ten children that your love is never limited and you will have enough love to go around. Motherly love is truly something designed to be infinite.

I have often considered having "just one more" to finish my brood. I have already heard my fair share of negativity when I have shared this feeling with others and I am honestly already done with it. I work hard to make sure my children feel loved, happy, and that they are well-adjusted. When we go out in public we get compliments on their behavior all the time. All three children excel in one area or another and all three love each other to pieces. My husband and I have worked hard to build up a business that can support a larger family and our finances are not anyone else's concerns but ours.

What I chose to do with my uterus isn't anyone's business but mine. I know I speak for other moms like me when I say that people who decide that their opinion needs to be spewed all over the front of my mom jeans are in for an unpleasant comeback. I'm a fantastic mother and my children love me to death. If I feel I can handle having a fourth child then I can. If that's not for you...great! My reproductive rights are my own and I will exercise them responsibly. If you don't like it bite your tongue and swallow your opinion down hard. It will taste a little bitter but in the long run it will be better for your health, trust me!