The Day two marathon of the doula/labor assistant training is over.

I GOT TO PALPATE BABIES IN TUMMIES!!!!!  I got find the fundus, the little back… couldn’t tell the difference between a head and a butt, but I suppose that might get easier.  (the mommies were volunteers and were nicely compensated with a gift certificate or something – so  we had permission.  I didn’t just knock over some pregnant lady at the gas station and grab her belly.)  I am learning so much and putting together so much information in my head that I had but hadn’t connected.   We talked about all the pro’s and con’s of different interventions, how to get the right information for the mother, how to help HER make choices about her care instead of being pushed about.

Its interesting that Swistle and Linda over at Purple is a Fruit were talking about birth choices today as well.  I’ve come to realize my anger over how my son’s birth went and how much I wasn’t told, how much information I didn’t have at my disposal.   I’ve also realized how hard it is to let other people make their own choices in regards to their birth because I am so anti c-section.  Its mean to say to someone who regrets their choices in birth that “Well, you should be happy- you have a healthy baby!”.  Sure, you have a healthy baby, and you are grateful for that, but you may feel like you didn’t get to make the choices you needed to, even if it meant making the one for the c-section, because you didn’t have the information.

That being said, if you are happy with the way your birth went, then I am happy about it.  It doesn’t have to be same choice I would make.  Making the choices actively and with information is very important, as well as knowing the possible after effects.

I am blathering on and on.  I completely deluged the other adult who is still in my home with info tonight because I was so excited with I am learning.

I’m gonna be a doula!  I’m gonna be a doula!  Let’s go have some babies!


Wow. You’re still there.

Well. Howdy!

Even though I don’t understand RSS or use it, I suppose its the only reason I got three (THREE) comments yesterday after not blogging for several months.

So, now we start the serious transition.  We’ve told our son that Daddy is getting another house.  He asked why and I said because Daddy and I want our own spaces and Daddy said because we have money.  The first is true, if evasive.  The second is possibly true since, in true back-homelandia style, there are usually large amounts of cash squirreled away in the damnedest places.

We’ve got to figure out dumb things like child support and living schedules.  As I am not employed as of yet (I really don’t feel like changing this – I’ve grown accustomed to going to bed at 2 a.m. and getting up at 8:30 – that’s like 3 or 4 hours of PERSONAL time every single day), I will probably be doing the bulk of things.  And until someone else gets with the program.

I really hate the fact that my son will have to learn things about his father as he grows up that will disappoint him.  That he’s a big talker, but a slow mover.

I don’t want to be single.  I want company, companionship and love.  I’ve got a biological clock on top of it that’s beating like a drum.  I don’t know how I am going to find someone else.  I don’t date.  I don’t want to find someone else that I like before getting married and then dislike later.


There’s no good segue out of that conversation.  Hamza turned four this month.  Alhamdulillah.  He’s 40 inches tall, 30 lbs, and is a mimic.  He repeats everything.  Some days I want to strangle him.  Obviously, I haven’t.

We’ve been swimming this summer.  A lot.  I bought a really nice, modest swimsuit from Splashgear.   Tres cute.  Hamza decided he LOVES swimming since we bought a 50 cent inflatable tube from the Dollar Store.  He is no longer my little octopus sucking up to me in the water.


I am attending a Doula training seminar hosted by ALACE (Association of Labor Assistants and Childbirth Educators) this weekend.  I’ve been excited about this for a while — the chance to see babies born!  The chance to help people have the birth they want to have.  If I had had a doula, I think my own birth experience would be tons different.

Enough for tonight.  I’ve got to work myself back into this slowly.  I am going to go read a book and relax for a while.

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Have you seen this?

I laughed outloud when I saw this — and I was watching the uber-serious Planet Earth series…

quiet sunday

I wish I were better company for myself as I often find myself without the company of anyone but a 3 year old and two cats, none of whom carry on good conversations.  The kiddo is trying hard, but he has so much to say, it all gets stuck in his throat at one time.  The cats … well, they purr and whine for food.  Sort of like the kid.  That’s disturbing.

Its been two years today since my Mom died and I miss her like its yesterday.  I thought grief and missing your loved ones was supposed to get easier and not harder, but its been getting harder.  I can’t believe in my mind that’s been so long since I had a conversation with her and it tears me up still.  I still talk to her all the time in my head.  I wonder if she felt like this about her own mother.  I never asked because I was only 11 when my grandmother died and it never occurred to me to ask.  I suppose it never would have unless I had lost someone else important to me first.

Interview Meme

B from Underwater Light tagged me for an interview meme.  I like these… and your questions were really good!  Here goes…

1. Now that you’ve been a SAHM for several months, what do you think about your experiences?

You would ask me that wouldn’t you. I can’t say its been the optimal experience considering all the things that are going on in regards to my marriage. HOWEVER– as a general whole, I’ve never felt my stress level this low and I don’t feel pulled in too many directions. Before, it do this for work, do this for Hamza, do this for family, do this for husband…. and everything had a deadline and I was tired all the time and jittery in a way I didn’t even recognize until I wasn’t anymore. That being said, entertaining a 3 year old is far more difficult that finishing a mail campaign or planning a banquet. People followed my instructions then, more or less. Hamza just says no. And then we butt heads. Literally. Nowadays, I love my mommy friends more. I love that spending a day hanging out with a good friend is a very productive day for us because its socialization and good play time for my son. I love the library. I love reading tons more than I used to. I love not using my alarm clock often. I love that I don’t feel pressured to put an entire day of parenting into 5 hours between work and bedtime.

2. What is the best book you’ve read lately and why should I read it?

I am going to give you two. Lucky you.

First one: Life of Pi. It has a cool picture on the cover, for starters. Second, its an incredible story that is supposedly true.

Second: This is really earthy-crunchy, but I loved it. And it has a hokey name. Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, by Ina May Gaskin. She is a self taught midwife from The Farm (Wiki it if you must – I did, as the extents of my granola nature are my birkenstocks and my need to handwash stuff just for fun). Half of the birth is birth stories from mothers who gave birth mostly outside the predominant medical model using midwives from The Farm. The other half is serious reading about childbirth, the process and what midwives do. One conclusion I am came to out of reading this is that the medical structure and society at large in the US looks at childbirth as an emergency where so many things can go wrong versus the viewpoint that childbirth is a natural process that most of us are able to do with minimal intervention given the proper mental, physical and people tools.

3. You have a penchant for unusual words and names. Where do you find them?

The internet is a fabulous beastie! 🙂 I have fed my love of unusual words by googling “strange words” and “unusual words” Phrontistery has given me some of my weirder ones like farrago and aboulemania.

As for names, I *heart* Celtic (with a hard C) and Irish names. (And scottish names as well, but I don’t have much of a heritage with them. I love the way they look and sound with the different sounds for the consonants and vowels.)

4. Where do you hope you’ll be in five years?

Beats me.  I sort of turned my life upside in the last six months and I will be digging out for quite a while.  In my mind, I have a wonderful marriage, a new baby, a house that is just big enough that it won’t look cluttered holding all my things.  I suppose I’ll still be stuck in the midwest since I hate moving so much.  I don’t see myself going careerwise again.  That’s still hard to accept in my brain, but I really don’t miss that part of my life.

5. What is your favorite stress reliever?

Used to be eating before I got back on the anti-depressants.  I loved to go to Penn Station and get a Philly Cheesesteak with extra onions and mushrooms.  Yum.  Still sounds good, but it would take an entire day of not eating to get that hungry.  (On the good side, I have lost a small bit of weight)

My favorite stress relievers are reading good fiction, sleeping and driving.  I usually employ the driving stress reliever along with a honking huge half coke-half diet soda and NPR.  Its an exciting life, let me tell ya.

If you want to be tagged for a five question interview meme, be one of the first five people to leave me a comment asking for it and I will do my best to oblige.

Dear God –

Thank you very much for patience.  I don’t have too much and I think what little I had, you helped me store up for this afternoon.  I don’t quite know why Hamza decided to have thermonuclear meltdown in the middle of The Bookstore that has his favorite train table in the universe, but he did and I didn’t kill him.   THANK YOU.  Also, thank you for the nice father who, instead of giving me the evil-eye-what-a-horrible-example-of-parenting look said, “We’ve been there too.”  It helped me not sink through the floor with mortification because Hamza threw trains on the floor because he was frustrated instead of just saying excuse me.

Additionally, thank you for giving the sense of humor to have found his meltdown funny once we got outside.  It was so uncharacteristic of him and so out of place that I started laughing.  Which just pissed him off more.

Your imperfect but trying servant –