Happy Birthday Eeny!

My baby turned 5 today. :) We took him to see Wall*E, which was thorougly enjoyable, with the short at the beginning so funny I laughed until I cried.

He got a Millennium Falcon, with which he is thrilled, and tomorrow is the party with his school friends. :)

I've been a nursing mama for a whole 5 years today. Eeny weaned at age 3. Hanky is still nursing, and Pollywog is, too. I'm rather proud of that accomplishment. 5 straight years is a moment in the grand scheme of things, but it's my 5 years, and I'm happy with it.

He walks!

...sort of.

We were at my parents' yesterday, and at bedtime, when my dad was reading a story to the boys, Pollywog got distracted and walked right over to him and looked over his shoulder. It was only three steps, but he did it by himself!

Oooooh, I want!

Win the Essential Babywearing Stash from Along for the Ride (one Beco Butterfly, one Hotsling baby pouch, one BabyHawk Mei Tai, one Zolowear Ring Sling, and one Gypsy Mama Wrap)

That's it.

Son needed *me* at that point, more than he needed his father. It was a very real, very pressing need to him. And as he has started to mature and follow the natural progression of separating from the mother/child dyad, Daddy has been come more and more important to Son. And as Son grows into childhood, teenager-dom, and adulthood, DH will play a far more central role in helping Son develop his sense of growing into a man than I ever will. DH provides a relationship to Son that I cannot, and that will become a central focus and a central importance at one point to Son.
-R





And that's it. That's why I want (a) daughter(s).

When my sons grow up, they will join the ranks of men, not the ranks of women. I have not replaced myself in the world with strong, kind, compassionate, intelligent women. I have seen to the eventual replacement of my husband with three strong, compassionate, and intelligent men, but there will be no women of my own to gather with in the kitchen over Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, or birthing room discussions of how that most recent labor compared to the generations of women behind us that now happens in my conversations with my mother and sister.

Oh sure, there will almost certainly be daughters-in-law, but they aren't mine. They will belong to their families. They will not have been grown in my womb, nurtured at my breast, or sustained by my body. They will not have my husband's stunning green eyes, my nose, or his grin.

Saddest of all, there will be no network of women. The mother-daughter teas, slumber parties, and shopping for a prom dress, the first bra, the first period, the way the house erupts in a cacaphony of hormones when the women hit just that time in their cycles, the soothing of the teenage broken heart with ice cream, brownies, and movies will not be. There is such a rich and close culture among women--the way we're there for each other when things suck, that simply doesn't translate among men.

And while I'm afraid this sounds like I want a girl to be let into the club (which isn't the case), I must say it anyway. Without a daughter, who will my knowledge go to? My sons will learn some, but they can never make the decisions that their partner must. They'll learn how to support, but will never empathize. They will not teach their daughters in turn, as they won't know, and won't have felt for themselves. And truthfully, that knowledge saddens me.

I madly, completely, head over heels, hopelessly love my sons. I always will. I would not trade them for all the girls in the world! They are my breaths of fresh air, my amusement on a warm summer evening, my exuberance in winter, and my snuggles on a cool autumn night.

My desire for children who share my gender does not negate the above sentences for one second. My children are precious to me. I'd like some more precious ones.

I just needed to get my feelings out.

That is all.

Wheeeeee!

I'm going to be an Auntie again! I'm very happy. My actual sister can't be prevailed upon to reproduce as of yet, so it's up to a dear friend to provide me with little people to spoil who aren't my own. ;)

In other news, Rooster is on day 5 of EPO for his eczema. It makes a difference as long as he's treated topically. I'm still trying to figure out what's best for him, as this thing has gone on long enough. I'll be finding out if the homeopath here in town is reimbursable through our FSA.


Oh, and I love my summer client. :)

That is all.

Wow.

http://www.ksn.com/news/local/18915504.html

I went to high school with David.

This is incredibly sad. :(

Wellllll let's update this thing a little.

Very long time no post. Eeny will turn 5 in July. Rooster just turned 3. And the newest addition to our family, Pollywog, turned 1 year old this past week.

The baby bug has bitten, and bitten hard. Bleh. We're still in the same house, DarthHusband is doing the same job, and aside from a stronger and healthier marriage, things are still very same-y. :)

I work as an office administrator for a church, and the boys come with me. It's nice to have the flexibility to do that, but I'm ready for summer, when DH will take the boys while I work.

I don't remember suppositories being meds used when I was growing up. On the other hand, maybe I blocked the memory. Eeny was prescribed some over the weekend for some impressive vomiting. He seems to be done with that now, thank God, since he wasn't able to eat anything for 2.5 days. He's keeping crackers down now.

The Rooster was running a fever of 102, the second highest ever for him, poor thing. Motrin helped, and he actually slept all night. They both did, which totally weirded us out, as we rarely make it through a night without one of them needing something.


There are only two good things about having sick kids. 1) They're cuddly and will let you snuggle them all day. Darn that attachment parenting for making them so freaking independent. ;) 2) They're so tired from not being able to keep anything down that they can't move out of the way of the camera.

Therefore, I present to you a photograph of my children, being sick and watching Finding Nemo for the 97835908357th time:

[IMG]http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c114/theladyeowynofrohan/SickbabiesandNemo8-136.jpg[/IMG]

They have a doctor's appointment in the morning. Eeny said, "I'm gonna see Doctor ____, and then I feel better."

For a three year old, he's got a remarkably good grasp on cause and effect. For instance, making the sounds of water splashing on tile causes Mommy to yell, "Water stays in the tub!!!" from the room where she's dressing the baby. It's apparently "funny."

Further note: responding with, "I'm just spilling it," does not have the desired effect of keeping Mommy the heck away from the bathroom in order to avoid seeing the half inch of water all over the bathroom floor. It also does not stop her from turning purple and working very hard to (successfully) maintain her temper while lecturing said three year old on the appropriateness of water on the floor outside the tub in a house she'd like to sell eventually. On the other hand, it's not like there haven't been enough puky sheets and towels in this house. What's a few that are wet with actual water instead?

I'm getting my packets together for my doula service. It's going well so far. I have a potential client who wanted to talk more in a month or so. That was last month. I should drop her an e-card, but I don't want to be pushy.

The Rooster has fallen asleep on the floor behind me. It'll be a busy week. One of my clients and dear friends is finding out the sex of her baby this week, and I'm on tenterhooks until she does. I wanna know. :)

More introspection

Before the battery on the Lappy dies. Anyway, I think I'm understanding myself more. The CPS incident (see the entries from November and December of 04) hurt me so much because I am an extrovert. I'm a very extroverted extrovert, too. Simply put, I need people to be okay. I need people around me, sharing my joy and my triumphs. I need people to understand me and just let me know I'm normal (at least, the more I learn, the more I think I am). We will probably never know who made the call. That part is really difficult for me. I don't know who (among those I knew at the time) I can trust. To an extrovert, not being able to trust is to choke the life out of a relationship. To have that necessary for emotional okay-ness thing taken from you is devastating.

I have also noticed that I take nearly any blanket statement made and try to apply it to myself. I try so hard that I've often taken statements that don't apply to me at all and made them about me. This, I think, is the root cause of my anxiety. I doubt I'm okay, because I hear I'm not. It even calls into question my salvation. There are so many different ways of looking at it and how one is supposed to go about obtaining and hanging onto it, that I've convinced myself I didn't really get it done right in the first place. Emotional truth: I haven't done exactly the right thing to be saved. Reality: I've prayed the sinner's prayer. God is real and is in my life and I do what I can, tentatively on my part. I'm so nervous sometimes. I don't know God well. In some ways, it feels presumptuous to even try. I'm scared of Him. Scared he's going to squash me like a bug or sacrifice me like a pawn in a chess game. Every time I think about any of the negative earthly consequences of following Him, I get so focused on the negative consequences, that I get very afraid of them. My flesh (and often my spirit, too) doesn't want any pain or bad things to happen. There's no guarantee that they will, but my negative side refuses to believe that. I've somehow made myself think that because I feel that way, I'm somehow less saved than someone who's all in. I am all in. In my head, I'm all in. It's my emotions that won't shut up long enough to let me know it. It's like there's a buzzing in my head and a lens focused on exactly what I'm afraid of. I'd type more of it out, and even all of it out, but it would trigger a massive panic attack, and I just can't handle it right now.

At this moment, the only thing I can focus on (besides sending this to my dad, which I will do), is the here and now, for me and my family. I can't concentrate on other places, because it's too much for me to think about and me to worry about. The Lord will take care of it--it's all His anyway....

So for now, I'll finish reading my email, then snuggle my sweet baby boy (who put himself to sleep tonight) then I'll sleep and go talk to my dad in the morning. Baby steps.