Reflections on living with a stamina disability

For background, if you haven't read it already, you should read the wonderful "Spoon Theory" that is out there on the internets, written by a woman with Lupus. I'll be referencing it a lot though this post.

This is my first-ever post using the Blogger app on my Android, so if it's glitchy please let me know. If I know people are reading this then maybe I might possibly be encouraged to use more spoons on posting here a bit more often. Or not. My spoon supply is very limited.

Christine, author of Spoon Theory, does a very good job of explaining the stamina issues that come with chronic pain. I. Really wish more healthy people who care about those of us who are disabled would read that post, and review it frequently if needed. Recently I have had community members I care about deeply making demands on spoons that I just do not have to give them. At the moment, I am in the middle of a semester from hell in my graduate program. I barely see my eldest child because he is in full time school during the day, getting out after 3pm, and I have to leave for class by 5:30 three nights a week, to be out past his bedtime. In that scant 2 hours, I need to recover from taking my other son to and from his half-day pre-k and picking them both up (my youngest stays with my caregiver while I stay out of the house between dropping off and picking up my 2nd son -  dropoff is at 12:30 and then I am back in the line for pickup no later than 2:30 even though he doesn't get out until 2:55ish because otherwise I'm too far back in the line to have any hope of getting to my eldest near the time he's dismissed). I have been sleeping poorly due to the stress of school, kids' school issues, husband's school issues, community issues, and general health issues that hit me like clockwork this time of year (quite litterally, I generally feel like a two story tall clocktower may have fallen on me overnight most mornings starting around Autumn Equinox and letting up if I'm lucky sometime before Spring Equinox - this would be why I've been so drawn to the Persephone myth for so long, this has been my reality since some time in elementary school).

I keep trying to explain to people that I need to reserve my stamina, my spoons, for my studies and my children. I haven't been able to work on my novel much for over a month because of other life stuff interfering and taking the little time I have for THAT beloved activity away from me, which means I'm not recharging very well either.

To help people understand, here are a list of things that take one "spoon" worth of energy from me:
§ Going up a flight of stairs OR down two flights of stairs (in other words, I can go downstairs, realized I forgot something, go back up to get it, then back down and I'll have used two spoons)
§ brushing my hair (it's a holding my arms over my head thing - braiding it takes about half a spoon, putting it in a bun maybe a third of a spoon)... This is why I keep my hair long. If I keep it braided, I don't have to brush it as much as I do when it's short. The texture of my hair is such that it tangles very easily when it's loose (which means if you see me wearing my hair down, it's a sign that I think the event is worthy of several spoons above and beyond actually attending).
§ walking approximately 100ft.
§ getting in and out of a vehicle, especially without down-time between (long drives with cruise control on are much less demanding on me than running several errands in a row).
§ sitting in an unpadded chair for an hour (i.e. in class, at a restaurant, pew, my own dinner table...).
§ because I am also dyslexic - reading certain types of text, especially "footed" fonts and certain text sizes, or with columns or tables or other visual tracking distractions - costs about a spoon per hour. The same is not true of reading when I can adjust the font and keep the visual distractions around the text to a miniumum, which is why I am so fond of ebooks on my portable devices - that is a way to recharge and recover spoon for me.
§ washing my hair. I'm not able to do this independantly at this time because my knees, pelvis, and shoulders are all too unstable. I need to sit on a shower chair, which I can't always get into the tub on my own (that will cost me a spoon alone). If I have to stand in the shower, it will be more like 5 spoons and I will likely need several hours to recover to be able to do anything that requires me to be more upright than sitting in a recliner (in otherwords - this turns into Facebook or recharge reading time, or very grumpy Ahmie from being annoyed that she's not getting ANYTHING accomplished time). It also is dependant on temperature control - if one of my kids opens the bathroom door and hits me with a gust of cold air mid-shower, that will cost an extra unexpected spoon (I can't lock the bathroom door because it is very old, just a slide lock, which would prevent someone from being able to come in and help me if I needed assistance getting out or if I were to fall). Not being able to shower at will without having to put a lot of thought into it is something I do kinda resent about my disability.
§ washing a sink full of dishes (though I actually generally enjoy washing dishes, the standing and arm movements are painful).
§ vacuuming, if the floor is already clear of toys and such
§ Standing still on a hard surface, or in shoes, for more than a few minutes (this one generally hits me later and is why I use my scooter at church so much - by the time I realize how long I've been standing while engaged in a good conversation, I've spent almost all my spoons for the day and need a nap).
§ since my right knee went out in June, driving where I need to switch from accelorator to brake pedal frequently such as downtown driving or rush hour costs me about a spoon every 10minutes.
§ cuddling with my kids in a way that keeps me from changing positions for more than about 10min. I always try to keep several spoons reserved for them anyway, or invite them to snuggle me while I'm laying in bed (which recharges spoons instead of costing them, but my day doesn't generally allow me to have enough downtime to fill their snuggle needs that way exclusively, especially with being out past their bedtimes three nights per week)

There are a lot of other little unexpected things that quickly deplete my resources in ways that surprise others (even my husband of 12 years). Personally, I prefer to focus on ways that I gain spoons instead. A few of those are:
§ crocheting... For some reason the movements involved are something I can sustain for extended periods of time, and it's so good for my mental health to have a physical SOMETHING that comes out of it.
§ writing via computer (handwriting is something I avoid as much as possible, it is not worth the spoons with as illegible as my handwriting is). This is anything from participating in an online community via Facebook or email lists, to writing fiction or even non-fiction (but only if the non-fiction doesn't involve having to move around a lot to search out references in physically printed materials - the movements of that drain me quickly). Feeling like I understand others, and that I am understood, is invigorating to me.
§ getting a chance to practice compassion for others instead of always being on the receiving end. This is what I love about my church community so much - I feel called to practice unconditional compassion there... I do wish sometimes that certain members wouldn't make it such a challenge to follow the line of compassion without being taken advantage of and potentially abused...
§ receiving feedback that something I've done has made a positive difference in someone else's life - this of course is made more likely by the above behaviors, but sometimes it comes entirely out of the blue and that random feeling of being valued is so good at recharging me that I try to make sure I give others honest positive feedback as often as I can.  I don't do empty compliments, but if I can give a kind, personal word and brighten someone's day just a little I know how big an impact that has on me personally so I try to do it for others when I'm not too wrapped up in how many spoons I still have compared to how many I would need to get through the rest of what I want to accomplish that day.
§ sleep, of course... Though the restlessness of sleep with chronic pain makes that one a little hit-or-miss... Sometimes a nap will help me recover a few spoons and make it through the rest of the day before bed, sometimes I'm down for the count. I can't generally predict which it will be when I lay down.  And some mornings it takes me close to an hour to really have my body cooperating with the whole getting-out-of-bed-without-falling-on-the-floor concept.
§ caffeine... But this one is dangerous. I love coffee but I can only have caffeine certain times of the day, or I will have even more problems sleeping at night.  On average, it takes about 7 hours for a cup of coffee to wear off enough for me to sleep. Coffee feeds my muse, if I drink it too close to when I need to be asleep, I will feel a near compulsive urge to write as my brain starts getting close to dreaming. I've tried writing in bed to solve that, but that does bad things to my back.
§ problem-solving, but only if the problem is REALLY resolved. Tengram puzzles, troubleshooting a problem (personal, technological, physical, etc - doesn't matter) through to resolution, that kind of stuff leaves me feeling energized. Feeling like stuff is still at loose ends after repeated efforts to solve the problem would be exactly the opposite though, so I am wary of using this one.
§ watching my children play... Unfortunately it doesn't recharge me as fast as some physical environments deplete me, so it's a careful balance too...

I hope this gives some insight into what my life is like... And maybe a little inkling into what life is like for others who have stamina-limiting disabilities (yes, my friends with mental health issues, I mean you too!). If you care to share your own drains and recharges, or ones that you've noted about me that I haven't listed here even, please do. A more full understanding of the world around us is what I'm aiming for here, after all. It recharges me. :)

Symbolic Interactionism (original poem)

meant to post this yesterday when I wrote it but was battling migraines (and still am, I've been hiding in a dark room for the last 6 hours and am too wired up from the caffeine that helps with the migraine pain to have any hope of getting to sleep anytime soon), then more crap hit the fan today that added a few lines to this from a totally different direction. I share this response to the forces that keep trying to hold me down, in hopes that others who feel that they're being held down and back might find it and find strength to push back through my words.

Whoever you are, you are not what others present you to be. You are more than the sum total of their opinions of you. Find your inner core reality, find something to LOVE about yourself, and stand upon that foundation when they try to knock you down. Then go look for that inner core reality worth loving in those around you, help them find it and stand with them. This is the way to real strength, from what I've lived.

Here's the poem:

Symbolic Interactionism

"You're so stubborn" you declared
as if not knowing where
I came from - this dissolution
of dissatisfaction
is not a symptom of mule-headedness.
I cannot confess
upon my knees,
nor begging will you see
for the scraps you've ever thrown my way.
I have put away those days
where I longed for you
and not some substitute
teacher, role model worth
the intentionality of my birth.
Decades of my always being the one
to bring the olive branch home
only to have you turn it into a switch
- the scars still itch
when I forget my self
and allow ghosts to dwell
within my heart crying "if only..."
but that path got too lonely
and I left it long ago
when I decided to blaze my own -
who cares if bridges burn
if they lead nowhere? So I learned
to release my hate, sadness, and resentment.
Now all you are to me is a disappointment,
a distraction from other priorities
that have taken over my loyalties.
Looking my way, you see
what you always wished to be
but you were unwilling to do the work
so resent my reminder of your worth.
I stopped crying for you a lifetime ago,
yet there is one more thing you should know.
When you called me stubborn, you were wrong.
I'm not JUST stubborn, I am strong,
beautiful, intelligent and kind.
And you can no longer claim what's mine.

(started 201110261401 added to 201110272338 - those are date/time marks for the curious YYYYMMDDHHMM)

Dear grumpy old male customer at Best Buy

I don't know what it was about me that made you feel entitled to interfere in my interaction with my four year old child while he was trying to figure out a game on an iPad. Perhaps it was simply because I'm female and you feel entitled to criticize anything any female does. Perhaps it was my attire (jean shorts, a Toy Story t-shirt, and sandals) that had you make assumptions about my social class, education level, church-going habits (we had attended a service on bullying at our church just a few hours before this, ironically), or marital status (tho the simple gold band around my left ring finger should have been a giveaway there). Perhaps it was my disability since I had positioned my mobility scooter in such a way as to shielding my child who was seated on the floor from becoming a tripping hazard - maybe you even assumed he wasn't mine since I am not able-bodied.

Whatever your "logic" was for stepping in to criticize my child and me for his sitting on the floor playing a game on the iPad, it was flawed. The fact that you were clearly a bully used to getting your way when you go to boss someone around was revealed in your refusal to back off and mind your own business after my REPEATED requests that you do so. That you then felt the desire to call in other authority figures - first suggesting the manager of the store, then even the POLICE, over a simple matter of a four year old playing with a floor model iPad in a place of public accommodation, revealed you to be not just an asshat, but a proud wearer of a scrotal necktie. The store staff was NOT thrilled with having to intervene and TELL you to mind your own business and look at a (GASP) different iPad, seeing as there were THREE on display. Your little stalker behavior of coming across the parking lot as we were loading my scooter and children into the minivan (yes, I saw you coming, and yes, the cell phone in my hand had 911 dialed with my thumb under the "call" button) was a total dumbass move and you're lucky I had the restraint not to throw the van into reverse and run your ass over, since it had taken quite a bit of restraint earlier in the store to keep from running your feet over with my scooter or braining you with my cane (though it seems like the tissue in that cranium might have been soft enough to not be much effected by the level of blow my limited arm strength is capable of delivering, so it wouldn't have really been worth the paperwork involved).

You should also count yourself lucky that I didn't video your ass and post you on YouTube, you twit. I refrained from even taking a picture of you to post here on my blog & Facebook feed.

Instead, you sarcastically wished us a nice day and I wished you a good life. Elsewhere. Preferably measured in air miles. And hopefully you'll think twice (or, heck, maybe even think FIRST) before harassing anyone who matches any of my demographic characteristics again. Because if you keep it up, sir, SOMEONE is gonna open a can of whoopass on you that your old brittle bones won't be liking. And of you invade someone's space the way you did mine, they well might be able to justify doing such to a jury, depending on who witnesses it.

Just sayin'.

Sincerely,

The DragonMama

On my 7th World Breastfeeding Week as a lactivist

I type this with my 14mo asleep across my lap, nuzzled up to my breast while his father snuggles the older two into unconsciousness. I'm exhausted but felt the need to post something, this may be rambling nonsense so preemptive apologies if it gets too tangenty.

It's been a wild seven years since my first, first week of August(aka World Breastfeeding Week) as a breastfeeding mother in 2004. Back then, my state didn't recognize the legal right of my baby to eat wherever he was when he happened to be hungry and I could have been asked to leave a store for feeding him. Now, I still might get hassled for it but at least there's a law in place (thanks in very small part to Liam and I going down to our state capital to testify for the legislation). Teeth to it would be nice sometimes.

We just got back from an exhausting trip to NYC (whose state law does, incidentally, have "teeth" - there's at least a stated fine for harassing people for breastfeeding) where we stayed with my bro-in-law, visited with my mom-in-law's friends (NOT my idea of a great time after driving 500 miles in 11 hours with 3 young children, to have to then drive MORE to sit around a table for more than an hour while people socialized in a language I can't understand... but... whatever. I got to see the Harry Potter exhibition with my kids before it leaves the continent so I can't complain TOO much, right?). The baby H.A.T.E.S. his carseat, and is only somewhat mullified by playing music (when I want to be listening to audiobooks, of course). I had just got a new cell phone (my first Android, because my 2.5yr old Blackberry was dying), and had a new stereo installed in the van so I could do hands-free calling, and wound up streaming music from my phone through the stereo via bluetooth since it was easier to switch back to the audiobook if Little Bear allowed me to. Luckily my kids don't insist on listening to "kids music" (Liam's favorite song is by Dave Stewart from the Eurythmics, Del's current favorite song is by Alanis Morrissette, and Col tends to want Take to the Sky by Tori Amos, which is a b-side from Little Earthquakes and my "theme song"). I wasn't even sure what was ON my cell phone's memory card, I'd just copied everything over from the Blackberry since I used some of them as ringtones. Turned out to have some stuff that made me sentimental, and brought out a little of the militant lactivist/DragonMama in me, possibly to the chagrin of some of the other people in the restaurants we dined in bwahahahaha (no you obnoxious Jersey Shore types, I'm NOT interested in your parenting advice as your inappropriately dressed teens act like total cretins in public, thankyouverymuch).

The music pulls me back to my younger, more-steamroller-than-diplomat days (err... yes... I *have* gotten better about it, believe it or not). I find that I've needed to find a balance point between the assertive no-I'm-going-to-do-what's-right-up-yours-if-you're-gonna-try-to-oppress-me attitude (tho yeah, that still comes out... pretty much daily, to be honest) and the let's-see-if-we-can-find-a-win-win-compromise-that-doesn't-make-me-want-to-vomit-from-compromising-my-integrity end that I fear I may have to cultivate if I ever want to be a college professor. Motherhood has really helped me learn to SEEK that balance point more, even if I still tip to the former quite often.

I had Tori's From the Choirgirl Hotel album playing today while running errands. The album was written after the musician had a miscarriage. I don't think I've listened to it beginning-to-end since becoming a mother myself. I almost started crying during Playboy Mommy. It hit me hard when I first heard it, years before Liam was conceived, but now it reminds me of how very blessed I am to have had uneventful pregnancies and healthy children (especially since we had a friend's 4 year old daughter in the van with us - the friend is newly pregnant again currently, had miscarried a very wanted child shortly before I conceived Col then got pregnant again, the new baby will be less than 2 years younger than that baby). It made me think of the bonds motherhood has formed between me and other women, both child-bearers and not, and how much it has made my maternal line mean to me.

This has also been on my mind today because my mother forwarded to me an article written about my grand-uncle (maternal grandmother's brother, my grandmother is the only one of her siblings to ever marry, her siblings were like additional grandparents to me), which deeply touched me that my uncle's work has survived to be appreciated more than two decades after his death. I wonder what kind of ripples my own life's work will have. If long after I'm gone someone has such kind words to say about me that my descendants can come across, that will tell them that my life was well-lived. I wish I knew more about Uncle Norvin, I hope that my descendants will know more about me (and that I'll live long enough to know more about them... he was only in his mid-60s when he died, I was in kindergarten).

The milk of human kindness flows in many ways, but our babies deserve it first from their mother's breasts. How, in this scary economy, can we make that possible for more women? I am blessed to have had the privilege to breastfeed my children full-term (biologically - other mammals do not wean their young before they have enough teeth to eat a full adult diet... ponder that the next time you hear someone say "that baby is too old to be breastfed". If they're still young enough to have jars of baby food marketed to them, they're still young enough to be fed the way they were born expecting to be nourished). How can we be more kind in a meaningful manner, with mothers who have so many barriers to the way they might want to live? How can we make it possible for the cashier at the grocery store (who mentioned that she is hoping to have another child while commenting on the coolness of the baby carrier - a traditional Chinese style one - we had with us) to breastfeed her own for as long as she might like to, without making her feel like we have no understanding of the complexities of her life that just BEGIN with the chaos of her work schedule? Meaningful, PAID parental leave when a child is born would be part of it, but making breastfeeding mothers feel welcome and accepted in public places instead of abiding the mentality of the few that breastfeeding should only be done at home, behind closed doors - that'd be a start, I think. We've got such a long way to go. I hope that we get there before I'm a memory like my uncle.

Done

Woman, I am done with you..
Your twisted life and misaligned stars,
cloud of doom following wherever you are,
inescapable chaos of your own creation,
drama and pity and tribulation
ongoing despite every intervention,
accusing others of your own guilty facts,
twisting past kindnesses into salacious acts.
Any agreement with you is like a demonic pact!
An assistant becomes someone to throw bricks at.
Someone helps you ten times, you trump by helping once -
to continue on like this I'd be a dunce.
My milk of human kindness that was down to the last ounce
spilled on the ground when you called me a fraud.
Now like so many others, your perminent departure I would applaud!
Woman, I am DONE with you.

I loathe cell phone shopping... bring on the bathing suits

I am extremely finicky about my cell phone for several reasons, as folks who spend any time with me in face-to-face interactions tend to find out. OK, I'm extremely finicky about anything I spend more than about $10 on, especially if it comes with recurring expenses, truth be told.

I'm also rather annoyed that AT&T is buying T-Mobile. I've liked T-Mobile, we've been with them (well, with the company they were before they were T-Mobile and then with them) for seven years, since we moved back to Cleveland. They've given great customer service, the cell reception has been pretty much flawless unless I'm in an area where NO ONE gets cell service (and I often get it even where others don't, somehow), and their pricing structure has been quite good. I have not heard such glowing reviews from friends who have had AT&T, plus AT&T does lots of not-so-great things politically that I really don't want my household's money going toward, so I've been looking at alternatives.

And now we run into the problem. The problem isn't so much that other companies are charging too much for their service. Really, none of them has a plan that fits the way we use phones in our family well. We are heavy on the text, light on data - my mother is the only one of the five of us on the plan right now who even has data service - and VERY light on the phone conversations except for my mom and mother-in-law. We could seriously get by with all 5 of us on a plan with 1000 minutes shared as long as there were free nights and weekends. Toss in with Sprint that free nights start at 7 (I think that's what the girl just told me at the store?) and you can call any mobile number in the USA, any carrier, for free and we could actually probably get by with about 500min between all of us, and that's with my mom using her cell phone as her primary phone number. But they don't offer a plan with less than 1500 minutes that has data, don't have non-smartphone that meets my needs (and only one of the smartphones even really does and I didn't really like the way it felt in my hand), and the cheapest family plan would cost us nearly double what our current Tmo bill is.

URG!!!

Considering going pay-as-you-go with Boost or Virgin, but then I still am stuck with the phone-not-meeting-my-needs problem, though I think we would at least save money monthly, possibly. My father-in-law really doesn't need a phone with monthly minutes at all, one that we have to pay for every minute would be fine since it's just for emergencies and Boost lets you do that for 10 cents/minute from what I saw on their website. My mother-in-law only needs voice since she isn't English-literate enough to text if people WERE using proper English instead of txtspk (seriously, she calls us EVERY TIME we send her out to get toilet paper to spell out the name of the brand and make sure she's getting the right one.. Q-U-I-L-T-E-D N-O-R-T-H-E-R-N). My mom is addicted to her iPhone and likely isn't following us if we leave Tmo anyway from the last I heard (tho the Sprint girl said they're getting iPhones this fall so who knows).

So why am I having such a problem with phones? Ahhhh... here comes the REAL rant.

There are no effing mom-phones! I can get mom JEANS, mom UNDIES, mom BRAS... mom MOCHAS in won't-burn-the-kid-if-you-spill-it-on-them temperatures... holy crap the new 2011 Honda Odyssey seems like it may actually have been designed by an entire TEAM of mom-engineers, it's like the wet dream of any mom with 3 or more kids, I swear I had a little momgasm crawling aroud that thing in the fall when my 2007 Odyssey was in for a recall repair. LOTS of other aspects of the commercial world that CLEARLY have a little thought into at least SOME of the options that demonstrate "a mom of small children had some say in how this product came out". KUDOS to all of them. Cell phone manufactuerers? As far as I'm concerned, across the board FAIL at the moment and for the last several years.

Why? What would a mom phone have that is lacking in pretty much every single phone on the market right now?

A.) Don't make us sacrifice the goddamn QWERTY keyboard layout to get single-button-push speeddial. I do NOT mean push-button-to-speak voice recognition speed dial. How well do you think THAT works when you've got a toddler shouting for a fruit roll-up and the baby crying in the background? Yeah. Wonderful. I need to call my husband and ask him, in the space between the baby's shrieks, to please pick up an extra pack of bandaids on the way home. With the vast majority of phones on the market right now, to do that I either sacrifice QWERTY to have just the basic numeric keypad or I have to tap a crapload of times on a screen or slide-out keyboard to get to his entry in my addressbook (assuming that I have no yet had the braincells to rub together to think to put him at the top of the addressbook by putting a number before his name... why he won't be FIRST in the addressbook appears below). I sent fewer than 10 text messages in the NINE YEARS I had a cell phone before I got a QWERTY phone. I have been a touch typist since I was 16, my brain does not think ABCs when I'm trying to spell out a message, particularly when sleep deprived and covered in various forms of goo from my offspring.

B.) WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I HAVE A QWERTY FLIP PHONE?!? There have been, as far as I am aware, essentially THREE flip phones made in the last SEVEN YEARS that have QWERTY keypads: the LG Lotus (there were a couple different versions of this, I forget how many), the Blackberry Flip, and (currently the only one on the market and I *think* still being manufactured) the Blackberry Style. Why am I so obsessed with a flip form-factor? Multitude of reasons.

1. I close it and I know I hung up on the asshole that I currently want to strangle while I bite my tongue HARD to keep from dropping repeated f-bombs in front of the little featherless parrots flocking around me at every waking moment. The primary screen and keyboard are also protected as I throw the phone in a full-out Momtrum when those moments are REALLY bad. On my more calm, rational, sane days, the flip action protects the phone's main screen & keyboard from damage from being in my pocket, or used as a teething toy when I don't get it out of the baby's reach fast enough (or he just outright picks my pocket without my noticing it - his brothers act as distraction decoys quite well).
   
2. The pacifier in my pocket does not randomly decide to make a social call on whoever happens to have a name that starts with A in my address book (and as someone with an A name and the 2nd letter being earlier than most other A names so I wind up at the top of most of my friends' address books, pocket/butt dialing is rather a big pet peeve of mine). Sure, I COULD key-lock the phone, if I remember... or I could set it to automatically key-lock really quickly (which then annoys the shit out of me when I'm trying to use the phone amidst the distractions of aforementioned small children and take too long to dial the next number in the phone number I'm trying to read off a paper/computer screen and have to do key-unlock THREE TIMES in the process of trying to make ONE GODDAMN PHONE CALL - yes, this was my life before I switched to flip phones, and I made the switch when my eldest was barely a month old). For anyone reading this, regardless of phone type, a suggestion a friend gave me and I BEG of anyone with me in their phonebook to make: make the first entry in your address book named 1111 and enter your own cell phone number into it. At least then if you pocket-dial (or let your kid play with your phone - I don't let my little gnawers TOUCH mine but I have friends that apparently have better replacement plans on their phones who let their toddlers play with the devices, which results in my getting a lot of preschoolers breathing deeply in my ear) you're just annoying yourself with long somewhat intimidating sounding voicemail messages from your pocket contents. Keep the lint fairies happy and they won't threaten you with a shiv, that's my experience.
   
3. More mundanely, the sound quality on flip phones had generally been better than other phones, particularly for those of us who can't go around constantly wearing devices that are simultaneously electronic choking hazards AND diminishing our ability to track the suspicious little sounds of our kids causing chaos around us. I have to hold my phone to my ear when I'm using it, or use speakerphone (which I do when I'm driving, it's also why I have a different ring tone for pretty much every single person who calls me on a regular basis. If my general ring tone rings while I'm driving, it doesn't get answered. If I know who is calling, it depends on traffic conditions and how much that individual has annoyed me in the last week). I've tried at least half a dozen different bluetooth options, not a single one functions well enough for me to wear for an entire day while with my kids.

C.) Why the hell is it, when any phone even comes CLOSE to meeting mom-needs, it gets slapped with the crappiest camera of the entire line the manufacturer is putting out? Come ON! A mom-phone needs more than 1.3 effing megapixels. Don't be a jerk, cough up the 5-ers. I'm so damn tired of carrying around a separate camera. Since my iPod Touch is only a 2G, I have three electronic devices for a day out -cell phone, iPod in case the kids get bored or [insert sound of choir of angels] all three of them fall asleep at the same time in the car so I can get a little pleasure-reading in via the Kindle app, and the point-and-shoot camera. I'm actually waiting to see what the iPod Touch 5G has to offer in the way of a camera, if it's halfway decent (my husband has a 4G and I'd like better than that camera, thankyouverymuch) I will actually spend money on an Apple product for myself for the very first time in my life (and I've been a full-on techie sometimes employed in the field since 1993, no n00b here).

D.) I've never seen this one, but if some engineering folks at a cell phone manufacturer (or even just programmers) happen to read this and the above criteria were satisfied... an ability to LET my kids play with the phone when doing so will prevent them from sounding like a pack of rabid banshees while we wait in line at the post office that also locks them from all the other features of the phone would be WONDERFUL. I have an iPod Touch (which I got for free for opening a bank account last summer - I'm really not a fan of Apple after being a computer repair tech in the 1990s when they were proprietary-EVERYTHING and the bane of my existence... and I still pretty much hold the opinion that Macs are great computers only for people who can't be bothered to learn to actually learn to use and maintain a REAL computer... that's not a disrespectful thing, I understand that others live lives that keep them too busy to learn to defrag and such, and out-sourcing basic tasks via surrendering to having many fewer options in hardware and software with the tradeoff of that being that they've gone through more rigerous testing, that's totally our call. Me? I find going into the innards of my machine and cannibalizing it a very gratifying experience and I know how to set up software to run the maintainance tasks on a schedule without my having to think about it. And I prefer to be able to access a shitload more software, including more shareware and open-source stuff, and would install a Hackentosh if for some bizarre reason I needed to. Instead I triple-boot my main desktop with Ubuntu, Win7, and WinXP... it's usually logged in on Win7 since that's what we've got the most software for more family members running under). I would love an iPod preschooler-friendly app (or even *gasp* baby-friendly one... yes, I let the 13mo play with the Tesla Toy app on my iPod) that requires touching the screen in a specific sequence to get back out of the app. Pretty Please? Available on Android too? And can I get an Android phone that meets all of the above demands...er... requests?

Some manufacturer make this phone and you will not be able to keep them in stock. Don't be assholes and keep it locked to a single cell carrier or we may hunt you down to do many unpleasant deeds. It can even be the ugliest phone ever made, since we're generally all about the plastic protective covers anyway (pretty sure that's the only reason I've NOT had to replace my phone every six months or so, I'm OBSESSED with keeping the protective cover and screen protector on my devices). Don't even bother making them in multiple pretty colors. Glow-in-the-dark keys? Yeah, that'd be PRIME, since we use the phone to call the doctor at 3am and don't want to wake the baby by turning on a light to see the keys. Nice bright screen that works well as a flashlight - also a plus, similar reasons (our cell phones become flashlights for finding the baby in the dark nearly every night, particularly since the blackout curtains went up). Oh, and water-resistant... yeah... and durable to being teethed on, without little pieces that are likely to come off quickly and go down a baby's gullet.

Is all this REALLY too much to ask? Surely you can do it, for us, the loving moms of the world? You know, those people who tend to be the ones who make sure the cell phone bill actually gets paid in a timely manner?

Any other moms have features that would be in their dream mom-phone? And no, I don't think dads have quite the same criteria in phones, from what I've seen. I'm totally cool with getting clued in on what FATHERS would love to see in phone design too. All you iPhone fanatics who value form over function - uhh... go shove a sock in some orifice and twiddle your touch screens. I heard enough of your ranting about teh uuuuhgly of the Blackberry Style when it came out.

First Birth (original poem by Ahmie Yeung)

I thought I had posted this ages ago but a search of my blog is not pulling it up anywhere. I had also meant to share it on the anniversary of my eldest's birth 3 weeks ago, then got distracted while looking for it on my hard drive. Today isn't any particularly special day - my 2nd son's birthday is in a week and I'm posting this now so I don't forget then. Just went looking for something else to do while my computer works on uploading wedding pictures I took for my friends on Saturday (almost typed "yesterday" then looked at the clock and realized it's after 1am so it's Monday now). The numbers at the end are my time stamp for when I finished it - year.month.day.hour.minute (approx). Hopefully it's readable, it's posted as an image because the formatting doesn't translate to web otherwise and the alternating of straight against the margin then undulating in a somewhat random pattern was the way I experienced my labor (I never fell into a regular pattern... not in 3 unmedicated, intervention-free births. Just not the way I roll ;) ).


Copyright is mine, yada yada yada... don't be an ass, ask first before reposting and don't try to claim it as your own.

Birthyversary thoughts & ponderings

This is long and rambly and was composed on my BlackBerry when I should have been sleeping and had taken quite a bit of cough syrup so... Here's some salt grains for ya.

525,600 minutes ago I was tossing and turning in bed, pondering what it would take to get the postdates baby I was carrying past my highly annoyed psoas muscle and out into the world. Apparently what it took was tipping into the astrological sign of Gemini and little bear reaching a full 9lbs (my heaviest of my 3 sons at birth by more than half a pound). Less than 6 hours later (less than 3 of which even my own self or husband recognized as 'go time' labor-labor - I was in denial that I was in transition until the baby crowned, and he was fully out half a contraction later) I was holding this beautiful, challenging, wonderful, continuing-to-do-things-in-his-own-time enormous little sucker to my breast, in awe that yes, I really DID manage to pull that hat trick again without any real assistance required, gimpiness not holding my body back in the least from this primal function. And I also found that we've gone 3 for 3 - all boys.

Each pregnancy people have asked what gender I am hoping for. I say with complete sincerity what I hope for is a healthy child - physically, mentally, spiritually, every way knowing that this child is perfect and loved however they are. I honestly mean that. And I joke sometimes that, being raised Unitarian Universalist in a very liberal town, what nature didn't give me some day a surgeon might and I truly honestly am fine with that idea if that is the path one (or more) of my children is destined for. I love them each uniquely, totally, and unconditionally. I would not trade any one of them for anything in the universe (though goodness and people who read what I write regularly know that I am totally open to loaning the older two out for extended periods some days, but Bear stays near until he's weaned and that's not gonna be any time soon from the looks of things).

All of that is deeply and utterly true. But I won't lie and say that I do not long for daughters also.

When Liam was born, before we were even transferred to the recovery room, I informed Garvin that I wanted 5 children. That is still part of my body knowledge. I was still in that trippy birthy semi-psychic feeling state and it rang true to the core of my being then and does to this day. I hadn't really had a strong set feeling on how many children I wanted before then, but the number has always been more than 3 - over the years from childhood until that moment, it ranged from as high as 8 to as low as 4. I don't know that we will wind up with 5 children (heck I don't know that we'll wind up with 4, we're not trying for a while yet and Garvin's not really talked into #4, but he wasn't really talked into any of the other 3 until I was pregnant so I take that with a huge grain of salt). I do know that, if we don't have 5, a part of me will always feel like there is someone missing, or several someones.

I am hoping to have another child around my 36th birthday or shortly thereafter (Decemberish 2012), from my calculations I can finish my master's degree by then at the latest (likely can finish it by August 2012 I think), then switch into PhD mode the following August with baby already likely well established on supplemental solids while being able to be away from me for a couple hours while I attend or teach a class (which was the big problem returning to school this past August. Bear and my breasts were NOT able to be separated without leakage and angst on both our parts for the duration of my classes' required face time before he was about 5 months old. He was 3 months old the day the semester began. Problematic.). And possibly baby 5 might happen after the PhD (or when it's close to bring done - gotta say, I wouldn't be totally against defending my dissertation in a similar manner to the way the creator of Hathor the Cow Goddess did, if I am remembering the story origin properly).

So does the gender of the next one(s) matter to me? I cannot lie. I pray with every ounce of my being that I have at least one biological daughter.

It is nothing against males, it is nothing against my sons. It is not a desire to have a little living doll to dress up (I suspect if I DO manage to have a daughter, her eldest 2 brothers and paternal grandparents as well as several other individuals will completely fill that niche, hope she doesn't mind too much). It's not a desire to play dolls/dressup/paint nails/etc with a little girl (I do that with my sons plenty already).

What it is, is lineage and biology and longing to experience from the other side what I experienced while my own mother was present as I birthed my 2nd child (the only of the 3 she made it to). As he was emerging from my body I had this mental image of still being connected to my mother's womb via my own umbilical cord and placenta, with her still connected to her mother the same way, and back and back and back into history, each birthing in different ways and different settings and all connected and sharing in that experience of continuing life. I was (and still am) profoundly aware at that moment that the cell that had grown to be the baby I was birthing had already been within me when I was in my own mother's womb. When we, as women, are pregnant with daughters, we are three potential generations at once. When we carry our wonderful sons, it is just him and mom - the cells that could potentially become our grandchildren won't form for well over a decade (hopefully more than TWO decades, thankyouverymuch I don't feel any need to be a cronologically young grandmother, I will still be plenty mentally youthful for grandkids that don't start arriving until I'm at least getting close to 50 or even 60. No rush, kids). It is wonderful to be just mom and son. But it somehow doesn't feel as much as though my sons are MY lineage the way daughters would be. This is partialy patriarchal leftover bs, yes, but in some way I do feel that my sons belong more to my husband's family tree than my own. Part of that may have nothing to do with their gender (my husband has his family tree documented for 29 generations, including our sons. I can only name 3 of my great-grandparents, 4 if I look up the name of the maternal line great grandfather whose name is totally slipping my mind, and I do not know with any surety even what nationality the maternal line pair were. Other side were German immigrants and I know little else about them other than that and their names. My family didn't do so good a job of making sure my generation got our stories and history, my father immigrated as an infant and his parents never seemed to want to talk about their time before coming here when I asked them, seeming very uncomfortable whenever they did answer some of my questions). I cannot really find my definition of self in my family history, so maybe that is why I am so obsessed with finding it in my family legacy. I have joked that I might be a changeling, for the little I seem to resemble my biological family in aptitudes, interests, passions, etc (I do resemble my father's side pretty strongly physically, as does my middle son, so I'm fairly confident there was no human mix-up at the hospital). I am also very comfortable with long term goals (heh. I informed Garvin sometime in our first year of marriage or so - 2000 or earlier - that we would be having our first child in spring 2004 and I picked birth years for the next 3 while I was pregnant with that one). That is what birthing a daughter is about to me - that potential to be a part of the long chain of wombs, going backwards and forwards in an inestimatable spiral, mother to daughter to mother. The thought of being the definite end of my specific line wounds me.

If I never have a daughter, I will mourn that lost legacy chain even as I love every subatomic particle of my sons. I hope that my sons will understand that. I never loved them any less for their gender, just differently, just as I love them differently for their individual quirks and moods and favorite colors (really, Del, you didn't HAVE to test that devotion by picking pink as your favorite, did you? ;) ). I will love any grandchildren I am blessed with, via any methods, just as fiercely. Liam's temperment and personality is so similar to my own that we share something deeper than I may with a daughter. I suspect that in adulthood he will be able to predict me (and me him) better than anyone else on the planet. Del startles me with his physical resemblance to my own childhood pictures and poses and delights me daily with that. He is a wonderful natural mimic and such a sensitive soul (ok sometimes, often, WAY over sensitive for my comfortable grip on sanity) that I know he will be an amazing human being as he matures. Col is still a tight little bud of a personflower but the spark of cheeky independence in his eyes combined with a loving sweet possessiveness he and I share, for lack of a better way of phrasing it - he is somehow the most 'mine' of the three, the most mamababy still. Liam was everyone's baby, he loved me best but not by much. Del had a stronger orientation toward Liam and Daddy as a baby, he only really wanted to be with me to nurse, otherwise if Daddy was around he wanted Daddy to hold him or to be on the floor playing with his brother. Col definitely lays claim to ME as his primary person, and that is our special thing at this point, and it fills me with joy even though it can be annoyingly inconvenient at times. I adore my children and I will adore any grandchildren I am someday blessed with through these sons, whether by birth or adoption or whatever. I am passionately in love with my family and what my family will become over course of my life. They are my greatest treasures and the absolute best part of me is that I am their mother.

But yes. I do hope for a daughter. My elder two sons both ask about having a baby sister at random times. They adore their baby brother (their most frequent disagreement in the evenings is over who gets to spent extra time with the baby) so hopefully if they read this some day they will have already understood what my sleep deprived medicated rambling here is trying to say, but just in case does cause them pain I ask that they forgive their very human mother. If they do have a sister, I promise I won't love her MORE simply because she bears a uterus, just differently as I love all my children's unique traits and the past & future adventures we will share. And I will be no less supportive of the women who bear me any grandchildren, through my sons or daughters (hopefully those women won't think I am too overbearing to be around at those precious times, but if my presence is not an asset I vow to step back and let them do as they must, regardless of if they are my own child or not).

Just please, universe. Don't make me be the one to break the chain. If my daughter(s) don't themselves become mothers I can accept that if it is their choice (or mourn with them if it is not by choice). All this may not be as big a deal to them. Who knows. It is to me though, enough that it is keeping me from sleep past 2 in the morning on my baby's first birthday. In honor of the blessing of three times birthing so wonderfully, I felt the need to share this part of my inner self. It is my prayer that I will someday get to celebrate my chain continuing in like celebration. That is all.

Facebook says this is offensive

I think it is a demonstration of utilitarian artistry.

The chain mail was made by a friend of mine at my request, and apparently my 6 week old having a meal during a wedding is offensive. (baby Col's ubercool newborn chain mail vest was made by the same couple, as far as I know they're not taking orders being busy with their OWN wedding planning)

Methinks someone is just jealous that they're not cool enough to have a chain mail nursing bra & newborn layette, or the guts to wear AND use one. Wanker.






I'm also pretty sure I know who the WOMAN who reported the image is. A breeder who spends more time complaining than being a role model worthy of the title "mother", who told me to go fuck myself for standing up for a friend of mine when she went off on her.

Guess what?

Don't fuck with the lactivist in the chain mail nursing bra.

Or her friends.



Or Doctor Who fangirls.

Welcome to your last year of binary dates

Yes, I'm totally embracing my nerdhood in this post. Not exactly "New Year's Resolution" worthy as I've been embracing my nerdhood in various ways for a while (years, if not decades - depending on your perspective and what parts of me you've come to know). One "New Year's Resolution" I'm making is to try to post here more often (this is being posted on my blog, which cross-posts to my Facebook profile, for those of you confused since I am very active on Facebook).

Last Veteran's Day (November 11, for you ingrates who don't bother to spare a thought about those brave folks who defend your liberties on one of the few days set aside for them in our American calendar) it occurred to me that Veteran's Day 2011 will be a very cool date to write out (11/11/11)... it then occurred to me that this past Vet's Day (11/11/10) was the last binary day of 2010 (when all days in the short form of the date are either 1s or 0s). Then the thoughts just totally did a pile-on and I realized that 2011 is likely the last year I'll be able to write dates in a binary format a few times for the rest of my life as I don't really expect to see the year 2100 (possible, but living to be 123 seems rather unlikely. I would turn 124 at the end of 2100).

So all this pondering made me feel like I should do something to more than just say "huh, that's somewhat cool and interesting" every time I notice that the date is binary this year. I've decided that I will take a moment to send wishes of pure contentment to those who see things in a more binary way than I typically do (you could say I'm a bit more hexadecimal than binary I guess... see, the nerdiness just keeps on coming aren't you glad you continued reading???). Not just people I disagree with or don't particularly like (yes, I'm giving YOU a hairy eyeball, Speaker Boehner), but also friends of mine with mental health conditions that can seem rather binary at times (bipolar comes to mind immediately, and there are some aspects of OCD that can be kinda binary too). So if that happens to fit you, if there's something binary about a label applied to you (even if you don't feel at all binary yourself!), I hope you'll feel a little psychic hug from me whenever you write the date and it's all 1s and 0s.... and also if you look at a digital clock on one of those days and notice that IT is only displaying 1s and/or 0s ("or" being appropriate in this case since some folks have digital military clocks that actually display 00:00 once every 24 hours) - maybe consider noticing that the clock is displaying that way on a binary day could feel like a friendly little psychic kiss on the forehead AND hug from me since it's an extra special little quirk of a moment.

So why am I wishing contentment instead of happiness? There is reason for this distinction. I think our society is actually a bit messed up in its seeing the "pursuit of happiness" as a be-all-end-all thing... Happiness is nebulous, undefinable, and fleeting. As a species, anything that seems for a a moment to make us "happy" we seem all too quick to habituate to and be taking for granted in the blink of an eye. Happiness has become a commodity to be sold, almost as much as in the episode of Doctor Who during David Tennant's tenure when he took Martha Jones to New(to the Nth) New York and street vendors were trying to sell him "Happy Happy". Happiness has become linked to that which is disposable in our society - we are a culture of Happy Meals and the associated Made in China plastic crap. I wouldn't consider it a blessing to wish happiness like that on someone, particularly someone who already has an abundance of everything that SHOULD, theoretically, bring happiness - wealth above 90% of other individuals in the world, alleged freedom and equality under the law, and at least one person who gives a crap about their continued existence (me).

For those who have so much, I wish contentment. I wish them, for moments on a regularly occurring basis, to see all that they've got going for them and be content with it instead of constantly trying to acquire more and better and living in a constant state of low-level fear of losing any of what they have. I wish for them to realize how even a small portion of what they have could sustain those less fortunate - here in the U.S. and abroad - for a significant amount of time. I wish for them to take a moment to calculate what percentage of the necessary monthly expenses their pleasure discretionary expense of the moment might cover for a family less fortunate (for reference, the average monthly rent around my home is about $600 for a 2 bedroom unit with bathroom, kitchen, living, and dining rooms. Heating bills in the winter can run between $50 and $200 per month to keep such a home at 68 degrees while occupied, depending on how often someone is home and how well insulated the place is and how old its windows are, so someone who finds themselves confined to the house due to poor health in a poorly insulated place with old windows is really financially screwed unless they can qualify and obtain financial assistance... guess what? That's kinda us, only we don't qualify because my husband makes "too much" money while I'm home with the kids - "too much" in this case being a few hundred dollars a month above our recurring expenses [mortgage, payment for the family van & vehicle insurance, utilities, student loans, food, etc - not luxuries]).

Even with all this, I am content. Even with my physical disabilities that make that van a necessity not a luxury (without it, I would barely be able to leave the house, I can't physically get in and out of the 1991 Honda Civic my husband uses as a commuter car). Yes, there are other things and adventures I'd to have, pleasurable activities I'd like to do that I am prevented from doing because of lack of resources (financial, health, stamina, etc), but my ability to experience the pristine moments real happiness that flit through my life on a regular basis as I hobble from one splashy puddle to another of contentment is not in any way inhibited. Even when I do it in a mobility scooter on days (too frequent recently) when my legs aren't being cooperative.

That recognition, of how good we all really have it, is what I wish for everyone else.

May you be so blessed... and pass it on. Happy New Year.