Attention Babywearers

Babywearing has become really important to me. It is the only way I can get anything done. When big government attempts to needlessly reduce my choice as a consumer as well as put many skilled women out of business it ticks me off. If you haven't visited TBW in a while (or ever) they have a most upsetting news brief:


(copied from TBW website for the link averse)

TBW Statement Opposing the Consumer Product Safety Commission Improvement Act

There is little more important than keeping children safe. However, The Babywearer is gravely concerned about the impact of the pending Consumer Product Safety Commission Improvement Act. We believe that if this Act is enforced, there will be serious economic consequences on the child/baby product industry, and specifically to manufacturers of babycarriers. The Act would require ALL manufacturers - including small business owners who sew their products by hand and artisans who sell to help support their art - to submit each piece of their product for cost-prohibitive government-approved testing. Each component - buttons, threads, fabrics, padding, etc. would need to be tested independently for lead content. The cost and extent of this lead testing would be impossible for any small business to afford. Thousands of small businesses will be forced to close. Consumers will have fewer products to choose from. In the babycarrier world, the only products that will remain will be ones those that are manufactured en masse - and are widely considered inferior to those made in smaller quantities. The date that CPSIA is set to be enforced has already earned a nickname by many experts: "National Bankruptcy Day." Please write to your Senators and Congressperson and express your concern about the CPSIA. More information: Petition: http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/e...SIA/index.html About the bill: http://www.cpsc.gov/ABOUT/Cpsia/legislation.html Read more about what's being dubbed National Bankruptcy Day here: http://nationalbankruptcyday.com/

(Of course, if you live in my illustrious State, you have to wait to find out who the highest bidder is until you write said Senator. I <3 Patrick Fitzgerald.)

Sit Right Back and You'll Hear a Tale

I've promised to tell it and so I will. Here is the story of E's long but satisfying birth at home.

I was really hoping I had signed up for the three hour tour but someone mistakenly switched my booking for the thirty-six hour one. It all started with an urgent trip to the bathroom at 1:00 AM on Monday, August 19th. At 9 days overdue I was not sure whether this trip was intestinal in nature or baby in nature. When the cramping had not subsided an hour later, Manny woke up and had the very good sense to start timing them. Labor seemed to be hitting me like a Mack truck. The contractions were coming three to five minutes apart. The Practice had told us to call when one or more of three things had occurred: if your water breaks, when you are contracting 3 - 5 minutes apart or if there is any bright red bleeding. Being exceedingly good at following directions, I called the emergency answering service and Favorite Doctor returned my call shortly thereafter - just a little after 3:00 AM for those keeping score. The Practice has three doctors who deliver babies. Though I like all three doctors, Favorite Doctor is the one that I'd seen the most for prenatal visits and with whom I felt most comfortable. He had said that he hoped he'd be on call when my time came as it turned out he lives only 15 minutes from our house.

The doctor assured me that everything sounded normal and said that he would call the on-call nurse to come check me. While awaiting the nurse's arrival I called my mom. She took our dog back to her house where my dad was preparing to dog-sit and pace. When she returned, she and Manny did a lightning quick clean of the house, at 4:00 AM no less. An hour later Debbie, the on-call nurse, arrived. She checked me and found that despite hard and consistent contractions I was only 1 cm dilated. Manny scrambled us eggs for breakfast and we chatted with Debbie for awhile. After breakfast Debbie called the doctor to let him know what she had found. He asked her to stay until around noon and then check me again.

We decided it would be best to try and get a little rest. Which is totally possible if your uterus isn't squeezing itself every three minutes. So while Manny and Debbie slept, I tossed and turned and my mom ran to the store for provisions. After a bit, Debbie asked if we'd like to go for a walk around the block. I'd stopped timing the contractions by this point but after our walk Debbie estimated that they were about 5 minutes apart. By this time it was nearing noon and time for another check. After all the work my body had been doing I had hoped for a better outcome than not quite 2 cm. After reporting this to the doctor, it was decided that at that point there was nothing more to do but wait. Debbie left, however if things seemed to get more intense I was to call The Practice and Favorite Doctor would stop by on his way home.

At this point I phoned Barb, Doula #1. There is a group of doulas that work with The Practice who are midwifery students that trade their services for the opportunity to log clinical hours at births. The two doulas that helped me live close to each other and often tag-team their clients for childcare purposes. Barb asked how I was feeling, and given the fact that I was still fairly lucid, she urged me to get as much rest as I could. She also told me how to deal with the contractions. We decided to let things ride for a little while, but if I felt that I needed support I should call back and either her or Mandy, Doula #2 would come depending on what time it was.

The contractions, still consistent and intense, remained that way throughout the afternoon. I was unable to get any sleep. I remember lying in bed with Jeopardy! on in the background trying to distract myself by answering as many questions as I could. Manny kept me company but there really wasn't much that he could do to make me feel better. I was beginning to feel battered by the contractions that didn't show any sign of slowing down or speeding up. By 5:00 PM I was sufficiently miserable so as to warrant another phone call to Barb. It was difficult for me to talk on the phone at this point, so my mom did most of the talking. Barb was teaching a childbirth class that evening so it was decided that if I needed someone there before 9:00 PM, I should call Mandy. Barb did say that things must have been picking up as she said it was like speaking with a completely different woman than the one she had spoken to midday. At 7:00 PM my mom called Mandy as I was tired, miserable, and did not know what else to do. Mandy was on her way to our house shortly thereafter, though not before telling Manny to get me in the shower to try to ease some of the pain.

Mandy has an incredibly calming aura about her. As soon as she walked into the house we knew everything would be okay. I was in the bedroom and when she came in she immediately put her hands on me. We talked for a bit, which helped calm me down. It was such a comfort to have someone there who knew exactly what I was going through and was able to bolster my confidence in what my body could do. She suggested that she check me to see what kind of progress had been made and then consider our options depending on the outcome. It turned out I was only a very loose 2cm, nearly 3 but not quite. Mandy said that what I most needed at this point was rest. In order to accomplish that she sat with me while she sent Manny to pour me a very generous glass of red wine. That was the best possible medicine for me at that point. The wine did it's job splendidly and after I had started to relax Mandy gave me the most wonderful massage I have ever had. She knew exactly which acupressure points to hit to make painfully coiled muscles uncurl. When I was drifting off to sleep, she went to talk to my mom and Manny and told them that in a few hours things would pick back up again but I would better be able to deal with it in a rested state.

At 12:00 AM it began all over again - only worse. My mom called Barb, who arrived about an hour later. She checked me again, and I was not quite to 4cm. Barb's particular area of expertise is aromatherapy. She set paper towels that had been laced with lavender and sage essential oils all around the bedroom. Then she went about fixing me some eggs and toast. I was not able to feed myself, so Barb and my mom took turns getting food and juice into me bite by bite. I think I ate more Jell-O that night than any other time I can remember.

Sometime during those wee hours of the morning Barb and my mom contacted The Practice again and Debbie came back. My mom was helping me to get to the bathroom and I began to shake uncontrollably. I was sitting on the toilet near to convulsions, and I remember both Barb and Debbie asking me if I was cold. I managed to say that I wasn't, and I think one of the ladies had to keep poor Manny from calling 911 because he was so freaked out. Hormones, gotta love 'em. I remember that I was trying to tell them something, but for the next while I was speaking in tongues well enough to give any Pentecostal a run for their money. Debbie and my mom got me into the bathtub. I sat in there for a while convinced that I just could not do it anymore. I began to doubt that I would ever have this baby and feared that I was going to have to go to the hospital. Debbie was actually a bit excited that I was feeling this way, as it is usually a good sign that transition is occurring. Debbie, Barb, and my mom kept encouraging me and telling me that I could do it. I know that Debbie called the on-call doctor, which at that time was not Favorite Doctor. On-Call Doctor told Debbie to check me again to see how far things had come. Once back in the bedroom the check revealed that I was only at 6cm.

Barb and Debbie had been sure I had hit transition. But my body refused to do things in a predictable manner. Barb helped get me into another labor position that she hoped would help speed things along. She had me straddle a chair next to the bed while leaning into a pile of pillows. It did help make the contractions more manageable, but it made it more difficult for her to check the fetal heart tones. The doulas and the nurse used a fetal stethoscope to do this instead of a handheld doppler. While Debbie made a return call to the doctor, Barb checked the baby's heartbeat. At first she could not find it, and then a very strange look came over her face, causing my mom momentary panic. Then Barb let out a great laugh and said that in all her years of experience she had never heard such a thing. She said that she was sure it was either intestine or bowel sounds, but what she was hearing through the scope was "Neener neener neener." My mom and I looked at each other, laughed, and said, "Nope, that's definitely this baby."

By this time the sun was coming up on August 20th. I don't know precisely the time that the doctor arrived, but I was so glad to see that Favorite Doctor was there. He brought Christine, the Certified Nurse Midwife, with him to replace Debbie whose time on-call had been up for a couple of hours. Debbie kept hoping that the baby would come while she was there but finally she had to leave. Favorite Doctor walked around the house with Manny for a while, and discovered that we had purchased an inflatable kiddie pool just in case I decided that I wanted to labor or birth in the water. The doctor was really excited to see it and said, "What are we waiting for? Let's get her in there!" He helped Manny set it up in the family room and as soon all was ready in I went. I was 8cm when I got in and the water really was a tremendous relief. Everyone, the doctor included, kept trying to feed me and get juice down me to keep my energy up. I must have been in there for about an hour because after another check I was 9cm and effaced to the point where they told me to start pushing if I felt like it. With the next few contractions I tried to push and after a few tries my water finally broke.

They changed my position until I was hanging over the edge of the tub to see if that would help the baby past the bones. After a bit, they told me that it is sometimes difficult for first time moms to push in the water as it can alter the feel of it and the muscles have to learn what to do. So out of the tub and back into bed I went.

I was so tired. Manny was behind me in bed and after every push I'd fall back against him convinced that I couldn't do it again. The doctor, Barb and Christine knew exactly what to tell me to keep me going. It seemed with every push they would tell me that the next one would bring the baby. After hearing this numerous times and still no baby, I asked, "Please, just tell me how much longer. Really. I just have to know." To which they would tell me "You're so close!" They had been telling me for a while that this baby had more hair than they had ever seen before. To which I finally replied, "I don't care, just get this kid out!" My energy was really flagging. Fortunately, Christine, the CNM who came with the doctor, happens to be a triathlete and had something called "Goo" in her bag. She squeezed the stuff into me, and when it hit the bloodstream a minute later I got the second wind I needed. Not long after that E was finally born, yelling all the way.

They immediately put her on my chest so that Manny could see whether we had an Ozzie or Harriet. Everyone else knew what she was but me, and they kept telling me to look at what we had. "I don't have my glasses!" I said. I'm blind as two bats without them. My mom handed them to me and I was overjoyed to see my baby girl.

From that point on we were not separated. Being that E was a sturdy, 8.5lb baby I wound up with a decent tear. I was amazed to find that the hormones lived up to their advertisement because I simply didn't care. That and I was exhausted. But E is worth every agonizing minute it took to get her here and I am so grateful for the wonderful support from my husband, mom, and caregivers. Without that support I would have given up and most likely would not have had the positive experience that I did.

My Very Own Sanitarium

Every man, woman and child in this house is sick. Fortunately that does not include the dog - yet. E's version of my little rhinovirus began Saturday morning at 2AM. I was hoping that breastfeeding would prevent her from contracting it, but sadly such was not the case. I am hoping that the course of it is shorter and milder than the one I am now recovering from.

This comes on the heels of her 3 month old checkup on Thursday. I am happy to report that she now weighs 13lbs 1oz and is 24" long. She was supposed to get her first vaccination but the doctor's office was waiting for a shipment of the DTaP to come in. That turned out to be a good thing, since her little immune system would have been overwhelmed between the vax and the cold. We are delaying and selectively vaxing. Our doctor did not want to start any vaxes with her until 3 months, and every time she does receive a shot it will be one at a time so as to hopefully prevent reactions and more easily identify them if they do occur.

I have been working on E's birth story for the past two weeks. One of these days it will be done and I will post it. I knew that motherhood required 24/7 devotion, but I hadn't a clue as to how all-consuming it could possibly be. That's not a complaint though. I am trying to enjoy every moment I have with her - even the difficult ones. Now that the crazies seem to be behind me I am much better equipped to do so!

Nutrition

How to prepare a balanced lunch:

1) Hold baby that will not sleep anywhere but on mom in non-dominant arm. (Kick yourself for not popping her in the Beco before she fell asleep.)

2) With dominant hand, take out the staple frijoles refritos and tortillas from refrigerator. Go back for the mini-cupcakes on the higher shelf and set on counter for later consumption.

3) With dominant hand, open container of beans and spoon into bowl to be microwaved. Warm tortillas on the comal. Be sure to stand 2 feet back from the stove and sideways so that sleeping baby does not come anywhere near the flame producing appliance.

4) Eat standing up. Call family dog to clean detritus that is not caught by sleeping baby's onesie.


As I finished my lunch today, I realized my meal was nearly nutritionally complete. All that was missing was something green. Then I realized that that's what the sprinkles on the cupcakes are for!

My Marbles...I Have Found Them

Well most of them anyway. E is now 8 weeks old and the postpartum gloom and doom has mostly subsided. She is gaining well now and the nursing is much more relaxed. And no, she is not sleeping through the night, fact of which most people are surprised to learn. Then I have to launch into the explanation of how breastmilk digests more quickly than formula and for that reason she still feels the need to eat every 3 hours at night.

E simply detests her car seat. The only way I can get errands done is because of my Beco Butterfly. E loves to be held and worn. She is sleeping on me right now in the wrap. If I could figure out how to nurse in these carriers I'd be golden. Since that hasn't happened yet my house is still a wreck. Oh well!

We were able to get back to church at the 5 week point. I gained a whole new appreciation for the liturgy as it is so handy not to have to hold a "worship folder" in order to participate. When things are the same every week you can sing along without having to follow the latest and greatest bouncing ball. E is very well behaved in church. She loves the music and only gets fussy when the singing stops. I've had to nurse her twice so I take us off the ladies room and do it there. There isn't really any good place to do otherwise and I figured the ladies room is better than the wide open church basement.

The last couple of weeks I've actually been having fun with my baby. The first 6 weeks I agonized over the fact that I was so anxious and miserable that I couldn't appreciate her. We are rewarded with the greatest smiles and faces. She's been social smiling since 3.5 weeks. She almost has full head and neck control and loves to dance.

Naptime is over so off I go.

Update

We took E to the LC yesterday for a weight check. Thank God, she was up 2 more ounces. The LC told us to continue the super switching but to reduce the pumping to every other feeding. The hope is that my supply has increased to the point where E alone will be able to maintain it, provided that she stays active. Tomorrow we go to the doctor for a weight check. If she has gained then we might be able to drop the pumping altogether. If not, well, I don't want to think about it. I was able to get two consecutive hours of sleep last night which is more than I've had at one time since going into labor. Hopefully things will continue to improve. For now tomorrow is the next hurdle.

No Rest for the Weary

E and I were so good at being pregnant. It seems that since whichever one of our biological processes ended that relationship everything has gone cattywampus. Currently we are winding our way through lactational hell, or if not hell, then purgatory at the very least. The Friday after we left the hospital our doctor weighed E at the office and was pleased to see that she had regained her birthweight. I left with instructions to keep doing exactly what I had been doing. Fast forward exactly one week later (last Friday for those keeping score) and another visit to the doctor revealed that E had lost weight. Of course I felt like the worst mother in the world, but the doctor seemed to think that it was a supply issue and that with help from the lactation consultant things would turn around.

Saturday we had a visit from our lovely LC. This woman has helped maintain my sanity in more ways than I can count. Essentially, E is a lazy so-and-so. She does not like to work for her food and likes to fall asleep mid-meal. Because she wasn't feeding vigorously enough my body responded by decreasing production. In order to try to increase my supply, I have to nurse her on one side for 10 minutes, switch to the other side for another 10, then rinse and repeat for 5 minutes per side. Then after that is done I pump for another 10. During and in between these switches I have to try to keep E awake. This entails baby sit-ups, poking the feet, flicking the ear, and wet washcloths on the back. The whole process takes about an hour. Then I have an hour to an hour and a half before I have to start all over again. E does get whatever I pump by bottle once I've collected an ounce, so that occasionally adds another step. But, praise God, as of yesterday she had gained back 2.5 ounces when the LC checked her weight.

I am exhausted both physically and emotionally. My body is wearing out and I'm getting an upper respiratory thing to prove it. If it weren't for my mom I would not be able to do this. She watches the baby while I'm pumping or trying to get a quick shower or nap She feeds and takes care of me and the house so I can feed my baby. Honestly, I completely understand why so many women give up and do formula. I have been so tempted to chuck it all and supplement. But I'm fighting on. Tomorrow E goes for another weight check. Please pray that she gains more and that my supply continues to increase.

I feel like I am missing so much of these early days because all I am doing is serving as a dairy cow. I had so looked forward to a great nursing relationship, you know, something serene and beautiful, like the statues of the Madonna and child. That has downgraded itself into me fighting to give E the physical benefits of exclusive breastfeeding by hook or by crook. I've been praying constantly and I know that my prayers are heard - it's waiting on the answers that's hard.

God's Own Child, I Gladly Say It

Since the little one has come it's been a wild ride indeed. To make things less complicated we'll call her "E." Last Sunday night when E was four days old we had to rush her to the ER. We knew that she was jaundiced, but the postpartum nurses that had checked on us every day since the birth assured us it was nothing more than normal physiological jaundice and with frequent nursing should have resolved itself in a week. Sunday night E became rapidly and increasingly lethargic. We called the on-call doctor for our practice and upon hearing those symptoms he advised us to take her to the nearest hospital.

The end result was that while E's billirubin levels were elevated, they were not out of the expected range for a four day old baby. She was put under the billi-lites and given IV fluids. Manny and I fought formula supplementation and I was able to nurse her exclusively. Though the hospital doctors tried to pin her problem on breastfeeding and being born at home they were unable to do so because she actually gained weight and there are many other infants her age born in hospitals that find themselves back again for just the same thing.

We had always intended to have her baptized quickly, but that Sunday night, actually early Monday morning, was a little quicker than we had bargained for. Our wonderful Pastor came on the fly and performed an emergency baptism in the ER. It was not the way that we had envisioned for our daughter to be made part of God's family. We had very much been looking forward to bringing her to the font in the presence of our brothers and sisters in Christ with whom we worship every week, as well as our families, who while they are members of the una sancta, do not share our confession of faith. But in the end, the most important thing is that E has been baptized into Christ. Should the worst have happened that night, or God forbid that it should happen any other, we have the blessed assurance that our daughter will be in heaven. It doesn't matter that the ER staff would not even provide us with so much as a bedpan to hold the water. It doesn't matter that instead of a font, the water was held in my mom's cupped hands while Pastor poured it over her head. What a comfort that God's Word is effective whether you soberly and solemnly say the Creed or are sobbing it with near hysteria knowing that your baby is suffering.

The hospital experience was trying and stressful. I was hanging on by a very thin and frayed thread. (In my defense I hadn't slept but maybe 3 hours since going into labor.) In hindsight, we are grateful that the problem was not more serious than it was. It was relatively easily resolved and she will not have any detrimental after-effects. Our doctor saw her on Friday and pronounced her "fabulous and perfectly healthy." She has even regained her birthweight. E. made a mother out of me not when she was born, but when she was in pain. If I could have, I would gladly have put myself in her place so that she would not have to suffer.

As you might imagine, all of this coupled with the postpartum hormones has made for some really fun times. God bless Manny and my mom for putting up with me as I frequently dissolve into a puddle with no good explanation. Today is the first day that I have felt somewhat back in control. We were able to figure out the Hotsling, and were able to have a productive afternoon trying to get things organized so that we can get into some sort of routine. Heretofore everything seemed willy-nilly. I am really hoping that we can get some good sleep tonight. That will be the most helpful of all as I am keenly feeling the sleep deficit incurred since the 18th of August.

I'll be back at some point to tell the tale of 36 hours of natural labor, but for right now prayers for good sleep would be much appreciated!

Introducing....

Our baby girl!

Born at home 8/20/08
8 lbs. 7 oz., 21 in. long, and might I add 14 1/2 inch head circumference.

We are so thankful to the Lord for giving us this gift. She is healthy, beautiful, and nursing like a champ.

36 hours of labor total, with hard contractions from the beginning that came consistently 5 minutes apart. It was the hardest work I've ever done but well worth it in the end.

The Ride Appears to be Stuck

As we've had to tell the barrage of well-meaning callers for the past two weeks, nope, there's no baby yet. According to the doctor first babies are generally late and there isn't cause for concern yet. That being said, let's get this show on the road.

I really and truly have enjoyed being pregnant. You'll find no one else in this wide world who is more surprised about that than me. Even looking like I'm about to burst at the seams, I can't say that I have too many discomforts to speak of. I am trying to savor this last bit of time that baby is alive inside me as I may not have this opportunity again. If another baby (or babies) is in God's plan for us I am fully aware that I may not have pregnancies that are as rosy as this one has been.

As cognizant as I am of all of these things I cannot seem to curb impatience and anxiety. It's like I have the mother of all band-aids stuck to the hairiest part of my arm and I just want to pull it off already. Sitting there picking at it only makes the prospect worse. And since I'm a champion worrier anyway of course I've already considered what might happen if baby decides to hang around until 42+ weeks. None of the options are pleasant.

So I've been strapped into this ride for a while now, and it doesn't look as if it's going to get fixed anytime soon. The feeling that I might be in this state forever is no fun at all. Too bad I left my supply of patience back on the platform along with any other articles prone to falling out of pockets.

Harrowing Incline

Ever been on one of these things?



Right now I feel like I'm slowly creeping up that harrowing incline and my personage is in the middle of the train. I know the big drop is coming soon but I can't see it. I will be hurtling completely out of control, at the mercy of God and gravity. There's no turning back now, but the prospect is much more daunting up close than at the beginning of the line.

All that's left to do is wait for this.



Good times!

True Love

Is when your husband forbids you to scrub out the bathtub and says he will do it when he gets home from work in the morning. Awww.

Pity Party

I seem to be having one. I really hate it when Manny has to work nights. He bears his cross of working hard so very well, especially since he's the only one bringing home the bacon anymore. It isn't the hard work aspect that bothers me, but rather these flaming awful hours. Of which there are fewer than in years past, yet it seems that we see each other less because of the wacky sleep schedule and the fact that he has to leave pretty early to get where he has to go. This has been going on since May and there has been no indication as to when things might go back to normal. I understand that any way you slice it, this is daily bread. I feel tremendously guilty whining about it. But when your baby kicks at the sound of daddy's voice, and then daddy has to leave a few minutes later only to miss so much more of baby's antics, it can really get you down. That, and I'm 9 months pregnant with no one to rub my back, and at this time of night I feel tremendously lonely. But I guess I'll look at the bright side - when baby comes I'll probably be up all night and then I'll be sleepy during the day too!

Urping in Luxury

What is it with the price of burp cloths? Even the cheap ones seem a little dear just to be regurgitated upon. Any advice from the veterans out there for what is best to use? I'm assuming these are some pretty heavily used items, and that the more will indeed make for the merrier. Has anybody sewn their own? I'm no seamstress, but Manny has some rudimentary sewing skills, so if I could score some cheap flannel from the fabric store perhaps that would be a better option?

J.J. Cole super cool mod baby stuff, I am laughing at you. Ha.

Ungainfully Employed

Friday was my last official day of gainful employment. Despite certain frustrations I had been experiencing in the last year and half at my job, last week was extremely difficult. The aforementioned frustrations aside, it was a really good place to work. I was blessed with kind and generous bosses, and wonderful co-workers. As I rushed around tying up loose ends, it felt a little like I was leaving my last will and testament. May I just say the hormones didn't help either.

I know that Manny and I have made the right decision in that I will be staying home and being devoted exclusively to the care of said home and, eventually, baby. There is much to be done in the next few weeks before everything changes yet again. I feel many, many lists coming on.

So I guess I can say that I am still employed, just not in the way most people would assume when they hear the phrase.

Speed Bump

So far physically, I have had NOTHING to complain about as far as being pregnant goes. I have been humbled and grateful to have escaped many of the pitfalls that I know countless scores of women have experienced.

Until now. Turns out I have not escaped anemia. And may I just say that it's for the birds. My late and much beloved gramma, among numerous other health complaints, suffered from anemia as well. In that pithy, no-nonsense way she had, she would always say "I'm good for crap." Yup. Couldn't have said it better myself.

Thank God for Manny, who has been taking such good care of me and happily pulls double duty around the house while I am able to accomplish the coefficient of jack and squat. And thank God for my mom who has been keeping us fed even though she hates to cook.

Reliable Resources Needed

As baby's birth day gets nearer and nearer, I am increasingly mindful of a small problem that made me extremely apprehensive about becoming a parent in the first place. Have I mentioned that I have never been a "natural" when it comes to kids? Interacting with kids has always been uncomfortable for me. As an only child with very little extended family, I never had much exposure to adults interacting with small children. Except for what I remember of certain things my own parents did, I am clueless.

This is going to sound really pathetic, but does anyone have any good resources they can recommend for interacting with babies and toddlers? (Extra points for ones that aren't going to make me feel like a complete idiot.) I'm thinking of subjects along the line of songs, finger plays, etc? Also, any materials that deal with proper training and discipline? That will not be necessary for the very young infant stage, but I always liked to read ahead and be prepared. Does anyone know if there has been any such publication from a solid Lutheran perspective? I've noticed that there are numerous parenting books from a supposedly "Christian" perspective, but I also know that there are bound to be more land mines amongst them than not.

Any suggestions would be appreciated!!

Recession: Male vs. Female?

I saw this article on the MSN homepage yesterday. The gist is that men, and by extension families with males as sole breadwinners, are feeling the economic slowdown more keenly than are females in general. This is due to the heavy concentration of male workers in the construction and manufacturing industries.

I think there may be something to this. While Manny and I are far from having to stand in the breadline (thanks be to God), he has had a marked reduction in hours this year compared to years past. The company that I work for has had to lay off almost all of its tradesmen this month due to lack of work. Contracts that were once a sure thing are suddenly being canceled due to lack of funding.

I'll let the economists argue over whether or not this is a slowdown or a recession. But regardless of what anyone calls it, the result is the same - belts and pocketbooks will be tightening. Not an entirely bad thing in my estimation. It tends to get the creative juices flowing at least.

On Dust Bunnies

I know that dust just is. It is on and in everything. And I know very well that most of it comes from our very own selves. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.

I am not a dust-o-phobe, but I guess you could call my relationship with dust neurotic at best. I really hate it. Sometimes I think maybe there is a deeper philosophical root to my dust aversion. Maybe it brings home the fact that "to dust we shall return" and I naturally rebel against that. But what it amounts to is when I see dust motes dancing in the sunlight, it is much akin to hearing nails scrape against a chalkboard.

I have been a Swiffer duster user for the last few years now. I suppose I bought the hype that a Swiffer will trap and lock dust and then blissfully remove it from your life. That's what I like to hear. Die dust bunnies, die. And get out of my house. But now that prices are going up on EVERYTHING and the income in this house is going down significantly, I'm looking for ways to cut costs wherever possible. Throwing away used Swiffer dusters seems like tossing money right in the trash. And I'm not entirely sure that the whole "trap and lock" claim is all it's cracked up to be.

So what is your preferred dusting method? Wet or dry? If wet, do you have a make-it-yourself spray or solution? (Once upon a time my mom and I used to dust her house with Pledge and a good old fashioned rag. Neither one of us uses Pledge or Endust anymore because we figured out the fumes bothered our sinuses.) If dry, what do you do to make sure that you're actually defeating the dust instead of just shooing it off the furniture for a while?

n-ICK-elodeon

While visiting my in-laws' house last night, I was able to sample some of the programming available to the 13 and under set. When I do flip on the TV I always fly right past the "kiddie channels" and go directly to HGTV, Food Network, History, or Discovery. The programs that my niece was watching on Nickelodeon last night really makes me want to throw the TV out the window for good. The shows all glorified young to mid-teens living extremely adult lifestyles, usually with little or no parental oversight or guidance. All the kids want to be rock stars, and serial dating, even at such a young age, is considered normal behavior. The dialog, which was supposed to be funny, was banal and devoid of any intelligence whatsoever. The ratings box on the show declared it to be appropriate for viewers over 7 years old. Honestly? I wouldn't let a 12 year old watch it! And I would hope that any 12 year old of mine would be able to recognize tripe for what it is, and stay away from it. Maybe I'm terribly old school here, or perhaps it is due to the fact that my parents never had cable TV until I was in college, but I cannot imagine why anyone with a functioning, reasoning brain would let their kids be entertained by that kind of garbage, let alone buy them all of the products that are tied in with these types of shows?

Am I being naive in thinking that I can keep my kid(s) from this type of stuff? Anyone with kids in the Hannah Montana adoration age bracket have any advice? I need to file it away for later.

The Absolutely Necessary Stuff

I can only think that things must have been simpler in the old days. I mean, my grandparents were pretty intelligent people, and being born during WWI and growing up in the Depression, there were certainly no brightly colored educational plastic toys, the lack of which did not cause them any mental impairment.

So the evil marketing people want me to feel as if I am depriving my child by not registering for their super-whoopty-doo playmat/blinking musical thing/you-name-it that is certain to guarantee him or her entrance into the Ivy League, or at the very least will make him or her smarter than Billy Bubba across the street.

So now that my little rant is over - PLEASE HELP!! If you have done a baby registry before what kind of playthings, if any, did you register for? What did you find useful once baby arrived? I really don't want a whole bunch of plastic garbage made in China junking up my house if I can avoid it, but those pesky marketers keep making me doubt myself.

While we're at it, what are some of the other items that you could not have lived without? I really am hoping to make this a stuff-minimal baby experience, so as far as gear and equipment, I'd like to pare things down to the bare essentials.

Choice is a very wonderful thing, but I'm finding that the whole baby product industry is really nuts.

ETA: For all you experienced nursing mamas, is a pump really necessary? They.Scare.Me. I've always considered one benefit of nursing is not having to haul around or deal with all of the paraphernalia that bottle feeding entails. So is it good to have a pump and all that other stuff it entails around just in case, or is that something you would advise waiting on to see if your situation calls for it? (i.e. difficult/painful nursing experience, convenience of letting someone else feed baby while you get some rest, etc.)

Crunchy Motivations

I do admit that I have an interest in eco-consciousness. My interest in green and natural living stems from three principal branches: stewardship of what God has given us, health, and frugality. It is amazing that so many benefits for one's health and pocketbook flow from responsible management and care of the natural resources God entrusted to man.

Unfortunately, the popular notion of environmentalism is not born of a relationship between Creator and created. Case in point is the National Geographic Channel's special entitled "Human Footprint." The aim of the program is to illustrate just how much an average American will consume over their lifetime, and to highlight different ways that consumption that we take for granted can be particularly wasteful. While this seems a noble endeavor in theory, I am deeply disappointed in its overall execution.

Take for example the show's first point of attack - the disposable diapers that one child will use. The producers gathered the 1,898 empty pint containers of crude oil that it takes to manufacture said diapers, and heaped them on a well-manicured suburban lawn for effect. Four fallen trees were also thrown onto the pile, and they had a pretty impressive illustration of the cumulative effects of the disposal of the diapers. I presumed that some viable option to the disposables would be presented, and in fact cloth diapers did get a mention, though not so honorable as one might think. The show's only comment about cloth diapers was a lamentation of the water needed to launder them! Things did not get any better from that point on as the program discussed a lifetime consumption of beef, eggs, and bread, all addressed in the same scolding and condescending tones, meant to shame the viewer for his mere existence. I wondered out loud if funding for this project might have come at least in part from the scary folks in the Voluntary Human Extinction movement.

The leftist barnyard pigs at National Geographic contrived a graphically pleasing way to disseminate their ultimate Orwellian message - "FOUR LEGS GOOD, TWO LEGS BAD." This is what the envirofacists and global warming junk scientists would like the sheep of the American public to mindlessly and endlessly bleat.

What a pity that is. God created the world for man to care for as well as enjoy. How sad that our culture has strayed so far from the Christian worldview that "saving the planet" often translates to "reduction of mankind." And it would be really nice not to have to qualify yourself with this statement whenever someone gives you a raised eyebrow for your preference for green products: "I'm not one of those wackadoos - really."

And for the record, I am really peeved about the planned elimination of the incandescent light bulb. For all my crunchiness, I despise those little corkscrew things they try to pass off as decent lighting devices. And they're full of mercury to boot!!

Shake Rattle and Roll

Go figure that on my day off I get shaken out of bed at 4:40 AM! I thought someone was shaking the bed, and as I am a pretty sound sleeper, I was annoyed to say the least! Then the dog started prowling around and I turned on the news. Sure enough, there was an earthquake down south strong enough to be felt up here in the north. Guess I'll be calling our insurance agent today. Our neighbor always told us that he paid an extra $25 a year for earthquake coverage on his homeowners. I think we'll be doing the same from now on!

Not Your Grandfather's Nappies - Part II

The variety of CD products available is mind boggling. I was completely confused and overwhelmed when I first started investigating the options. One thing is for sure - these ain't your grandpa's drawers anymore. A basic overview of the categories is helpful for navigating around the many CD sites that abound out there in cyberspace.

DIAPER CHOICES:

1) Prefolds - These are what you think of when someone says "cloth diaper." They are a piece of fabric, usually cotton, but available in hemp or bamboo as well, that are sewn together in the appropriate places, so that you don't have to continually trifold them into a diaper all the time. They can be bleached or unbleached, Chinese or Indian. Do not get the silly little Gerber prefolds from Wal-Mart or Target. Experienced CD mamas recommend "Diaper Service Quality" (DSQ) prefolds, which are durable and readily available on the internet. Prefolds no longer need to be pinned to keep them together. A new ouchless fastener called a Snappi will keep PF's fastened without having to worry about poking a wriggly baby. PF's require some sort of cover to go over them. See the covers section below for more detail. PF's are the most economical way to cloth diaper, and from the opinions I have gathered from various forums and etailers, is the best system for newborns through 4 months, since the number of diaper changes is highest at that age.

2) Fitteds - Fitted dipes are similar to PF's in that they need a cover, but they are size specific to the age and weight of the child. They are contoured like disposable and are self-fastening in that they have built in snaps or velcro. Fitteds are more expensive than PF's and don't have as many secondary uses either.

3) Pockets - Pocket dipes seem to be the darling of the CD world at the moment. They do seem very convenient, but the price is prohibitive for many frugal CD mamas. Most people seem to have at least a few pockets, but it would be expensive to have a CD system comprised exclusively of them. Pockets have a waterproof cover already attached to the cloth diaper. There is a layer of fleece between baby's skin and the cloth/cover part. The space in between can be stuffed with a prefold or other absorbent insert, hence the pocket. The fleece wicks moisture away from baby to the insert, and makes it very easy to shake any solids off into the toilet. The dipe fastens with snaps or velcro. Most pockets come in sizes only, but at least one manufacturer makes a one-size product that can supposedly be used from birth to toddler. Different brands seem to work better for different builds - i.e. chunky vs. skinny thighs, etc. The whole dipe goes in the wash as-is; you only need to remove the insert and toss it in the wash along with the dipes themselves.

4) All-in-ones (aka AIO's) - AIO's are closest to the convenience of disposables. They are as their name would suggest - diaper and cover all in one. The whole kit and caboodle goes into the wash. The downside is that they take a long time to dry. It is recommended to have at least a few of these in any stash in case of babysitters or reluctant husbands who might be scared of the other options.


COVER CHOICES:

For those CD products that require covers, namely PF's and fitteds, the options are many and varied. These are not the rubber pants of generations past. Covers can usually be aired out and used few times before they need washing.

1) Wrap style covers - Usually made of PUL (polyurethane laminate) which is waterproof on the outside but fabriclike on the inside. They do what they say, which is to wrap around the PF or fitted and fasten with velcro or snaps.

2) Pull on style covers - they pull on. Not much that can be added here!

3) Wool covers - Can come in wrap or pull on styles. The cool thing about wool is that it is breathable and you don't have to wash it all the time. Most wool lovers say they wash theirs about once a month. If you're crafty, you can knit or crochet your own, or make them out of old sweaters. I am excited to try wool because it is a completely natural option. Karen at Green Mountain Diapers has a really informative page about wool.

FAVORITE CLOTH DIAPER SITES:

Green Mountain Diapers - This is where I plan to buy from. This site is chock full of information and pictures of how the products look on actual babies. I also admire the commitment of the proprietress to natural fibers. For that reason, she does not sell pocket diapers on her site.

Diaperswappers - This is a very active forum where you can find answers to general CDing questions and seek opinions from experienced CDing mamas. They also have an extensive for sale or trade section. CD's have a really high resale value. If you wind up with a diaper that you don't like, you can usually resell it for at least 70% of what you paid for it.

Mothering Dot Commune - This is a HUGE natural living forum. Their CD section contains reviews of both retailed brands and diapers made by WAHMs. The WAHM products can be less expensive than the more well-known brands, and can be a good way to try a particular diapering system that might otherwise be price prohibitive. It is a very, shall we say, diverse site - be prepared for alot of paganish, earth mother rhetoric flying around - but if you can ignore that kind of thing there is lots of good information to be had there.

Cottonbabies - Another popular etailer. Their product descriptions are very informative. If I ever decide to try pockets, I'd probably order from there. Their PF prices are among the most competitive around.

I hope this helps anyone who might be interested in giving cloth diapering a shot!

Not Your Grandfather's Nappies - Part I

As I have just narrowly avoided being branded a reproductive heretic by most of our family by sharing our decision to homebirth, I have not even mentioned the fact that I want to use cloth diapers for this baby. I fear it might cause fits of apoplexy, so out of love for my neighbor I'm keeping my plans on the QT.

Here are the reasons I want to make it work, in order of importance:

1) CDing is healthier for baby. Most disposable diapers stake their claim to fame on absorbency. The reason they are so absorbent is due to sodium polyacrylate gel embedded in the paper fibers of the diaper. From what I understand, the gel sticks to baby's bottom and can be seen when doing a diaper change. For those who may not know, sodium polyacrylate is the gel that was banned from tampons back in the 80's/90's as it caused toxic shock syndrome. Albeit that the gel is not applied internally to baby, I really do not want that substance in contact 24/7 with baby's most sensitive areas.

Most disposables also contain dioxin, a known carcinogen, which is a by-product of the chlorine bleaching of paper fibers. The exceptions to this rule are diapers made by Seventh Generation.

Another health benefit of cloth is less diaper rash. Because the cloth diapers must be changed more frequently, the yeast and bacteria that can cause diaper rash do not have as much opportunity to establish themselves and cause discomfort. CD's and their covers are generally more breathable as well, also contributing to less bouts with diaper rash.

2) Budget. You can save buku bucks by cloth diapering. That being said, you can also spend a small fortune buying "boutique" products to cover baby's tush. (Sorry kiddo, you don't need a Cadillac on your bum when a Ford Escort will do you just fine.) The Real Diaper Association has a good summary of the potential savings, and they touch on the health benefits too. The cost effectiveness of CD's really comes into play when there will be multiple children in diapers.

3) Environment. Again, I defer to the Real Diaper Association. Poo getting into the water table via the landfill is just icky.

4) They're really cute!

5) Babies who are cloth diapered tend to potty train earlier since they are able to better discern when they are wet.

Part II will include an overview of the various types of cloth diapers. Stay tuned!

Moving...

...is like tearing off your own skin. And I'm only moving next door. I don't deal with this kind of monumental change very well to begin with, and the pregnancy hormones aren't making it any easier. My hat is way off to those folks who are forced to do this on a fairly regular basis because of job transfers and such. I hope Manny is willing to just tack another couple of bedrooms on the back of this place should more space become necessary. Because I really don't ever want to have to do this again!

Feast of St. Patrick

Yes, today is our family's annual St. Patrick's day feast. My dad's cousin makes the corned beef and cabbage the same way my paternal grandfather used to, or so I'm told. He passed from this life before I was born, so I never got to meet him. However, he was a fireman for the Biggest Metropolis Closest to Here, and was a good cook because of it.

To combat the silly commemorations of a very religious day (like dyeing beers, rivers, hair and whatever else you can think of green), I'll leave you with some videos from a few of my very favorite traditional Irish bands. This is no Tommy Makem folks!

Up first is Dervish. We went to see them last year when they came through a great little folk music venue in the Metropolis. The lead singer, Cathy Jordan, is just a hoot. She is singing in the Irish here, but she's a pure joy to listen to and watch even if you can't understand the lyrics. (Lyrics with translations are in the comments on the actual YouTube post.)


Next is Altan. If they ever come through town, I will definitely be there with bells on. They always seem to tour in places just out of my comfortable driving distance. Wonderful fiddlers in this group, and Mairead, the lead fiddler and vocalist is incredibly talented. Here they are doing a set of reels. As this is a set of tunes, she doesn't sing here, but what a great folksy voice she has. I highly recommend any of their albums.


Last but not least, we have the Chieftains. They have been together over 46 years, have won 6 Grammy awards and even at their advanced ages put on a wonderful show. They have been coming through the Metropolis once a year, and we've been able to see them three times. This recording is from some years ago and features member Matt Molloy, one of the top, if not THE top flautist in the world. He has his own pub somewhere in Galway I believe, if you ever happen to be in that part of the world and are looking for a good place to have a pint.


Hope you enjoyed it!

Flutters

After a few days of wondering whether the rumblings I'd felt were digestive in nature or not, I can now positively say that I am feeling baby move. Apparently he already knows when mealtimes are and has no qualms about giving me a poke to remind me to get us to the kitchen in short order. After eating he seems to do a celebratory little dance before going back to sleep. I usually don't feel anything more until bedtime, when I get a few good-night flicks for good measure. It is starting to hit home that there is actually someone in there. : )

At this point, I'm getting a definite boy vibe, though I'd be equally as delighted if baby is a girl. I just pray that he or she is healthy, and that we all (Manny included) make it through this process with lives, sanity, and bodies unharmed. Manny and I don't plan to find out baby's sex before the birth, a decision which has been met with some very vocal displeasure from Manny's side of the family. As of right now, I most likely will not have an ultrasound unless the doctor deems it necessary. I get the big hairy eyebrow when people find that out, and if you think that's bad, you should see the reaction when I tell them we're planning a homebirth. Honestly, you'd think I had just told them that I belong to a cult that sacrifices small animals.

The birth will be attended by a physician. I am fortunate to be near one of the few physician-attended homebirth practices in the nation. If it were not for stumbling upon this practice two years ago, I would have been content to remain Sulvan forever. People would always try to convince me of how natural pregnancy and childbirth are, all the while sharing war stories about being strapped to a hospital bed with a ginormous needle stuck in their back, (I am a HUGE needlephobe) and various and sundry other tubes and devices where they do not naturally belong. And, if this process is such natural one, why on earth must I go to a place where the order of the day is sickness and death? No thanks, I'll pass on that one.

Then I found this practice on the internet and saw that their philosophy completely meshed with mine. I am confident that there will be no interventions pushed on me, and that they will not even be suggested unless they are absolutely medically necessary. Should there be complications and I need to be transferred to the hospital, I know that it will be in the best interests of both baby and me. It is a relief not to have to worry about being gutted like a fish simply because someone has to hurry up and make their tee-time. (Not to say all doctors would, but there are plenty that do.)

Crunch. Now where'd I put those Birkenstocks? :P

Socialist Pope?

After reading about the brand spankin' new deadly sins, what I want to know is when the armed revolutionaries are going to be allowed to storm the Vatican. According to the report, "being obscenely rich" is now a harbinger of eternal damnation. Well, unless you buy enough plenary indulgences or some such to get you out of dutch. And if one were obscenely rich that would ostensibly not be a problem.

So what qualifies as "obscenely rich"? If you roll around in a bulletproof Mercedes (or Rolls, or Bentley or whatever the Popemobile happens to be these days), doesn't that kind of put you in the position of being materially better off than most of the rest of the world? I doubt that the Vatican is lacking in priceless assets. Seems a little odd to be throwing stones when you live in a very lovely glass house. Not to mention the juxtaposition of the condemnation of wealth with the commoditization of absolution.

To be fair, since I have not read the original edict from Rome, I would hope that the type of "obscene" wealth in question is limited to what the article mentions in passing - that which is gained nefariously and at the expense of others. That is a grave sin indeed. But simply condemning wealth for wealth's sake is not a prudent thing to do. There are plenty of rich people who have come by their fortunes legitimately - either through inheritance or good old fashioned hard work. The issue that those fortunate individuals must wrestle with is not letting God's material blessings become their god. You can't serve two masters after all.

Most likely, I will never be obscenely rich. I doubt I will ever even qualify for mildly profane. And that's okay, because the Lord has always provided above and beyond my needs and has promised that, like the birds of the air or the lilies of the field, everything needful will be given. Showing love to one's less fortunate neighbor through charity, goodwill, and defense of the defenseless should be a part of the life of the Christian, in response to the mercy that has been shown unto him. In contrast, pursuing "social justice" by blanketly disparaging all wealthy people is Robin Hoodery run amok. It's that kind of thinking that brought this world Marx, Stalin, and Castro. Social justice is a pretty phrase, but it has a way of escaping the noble intentions of its users and converting itself into an argument against the "opiate of the masses."

Still Here

Things have been extremely busy lately at the two casas. Manny has been working strange and awful hours – 12 to 30 hour straight shifts, with almost no down time. My mom and I have been making final preparations to start to move into casa #2. The central air is being installed this week. How ironic that in the middle of the coldest winter in 10 years, we’ve got a/c going in. However, this is one luxury that I refuse to do without – especially considering that during the doggiest of the dog days of summer I will be approximately the size of a bus. For a while, it felt like we would not be anywhere near move in ready until bebé #1 entered university. Now I will need to Craigslist some furniture that will not be making the move with us, as well as try to find some reputable renters for casa #1.

Baby seems to be doing well. Manny was finally able to hear the heartbeat at my last appointment, and we know that this is going to be one active kiddo. The doctor had trouble finding the heartbeat at first due to all of the pops and scratches on the Doppler which apparently are indicative of movement. In related news, most of my regular clothes are getting too close for comfort. Fortunately, this is the clearance season, and I was able to clean up pretty well at Sears and Penny’s this weekend. Who doesn’t love getting shirts for a $1.97 each? The oddest part about shopping for maternity wear is that, when you walk into a misses or juniors department nowadays, you honestly could mistake it for the maternity section. And strangely enough, so many of the styles they are showing for pregnant women are tight around the middle and meant to show off the belly. Note to clothing designers – if I wanted to make a spectacle of my rapidly expanding waistline, I wouldn’t be buying anything new! In any case, it is a wonderful thing not to feel like an overstuffed sausage any longer, even if it does seem like Omar the Tent Maker breezed through town and left me his castoffs.

I was also glad to hear the announcement that the Pastor to whom the church we attend had extended a call has accepted it. I don't know much about him, but the head elder says that he is a good choice, and I am inclined to believe him. Hopefully all will be well and we will finally be able to have our papers transferred. It kind of makes my mind reel when I think that this will be the person who will in all likelihood baptize this baby!

This Just In

The Archbishop of Canterbury says that the adoption fo Sharia law in Britain is inevitable.

If you can't believe it, or if you can and just want to witness the train wreck, click here.

I've said so for a long time, but that cements it. Europe is lost.

Lord have mercy.

Missa Cuiusvis Toni

My iPod suffers from multiple personality disorder. You would be as likely to queue up traditional Irish or Country, Pop Latino or Classical, and many other surprises in between. I have always had a particular fondness for unaccompanied vocals - whether Sacred, Barbershop, or pop. I downloaded a recording the other evening that did not disappoint. It is the Missa Cuiusvis Toni (a IV) performed by a group called Capella Alamire. While I do love the beautiful music of the Baroque period and its stunning orchestration (Bach in particular, of course) there is absolutely nothing like Renaissance polyphony. It is rich and unadulterated. What makes it so powerful for me is that the element of the human voice is so simple, yet it is woven in a tapestry of incredible complexity. If you have iTunes, be sure to check it out. If you're only willing to spring for one track I recommend the Agnus Dei. Wow.

I imagine that this type of repertoire is reserved most for professional or highly trained amateurs who really know what they're doing. Which is too bad, because I can't imagine how anyone could listen to it and not want to take part in recreating it.

Heartbeat!

I was able to hear baby's heartbeat for the first time today. It was a much cooler experience than I had anticipated. When the doctor said "There's baby," I think I got this dopey grin on my face and the only thing I could say was "Really?" So, thanks be to God that both of us are healthy and progressing as we should. The heartbeat measured in at 160bpm, which according to the doctor is "perfect girl range." We shall see!

I only wish that Manny could have been with me. He was called in to work at 6 AM to fix this:



Yes, it's a giant sink hole in the middle of a fairly busy street. 100 year old water mains and cold weather just don't mix.

They are making Manny pull at least a 24 hour shift, and the wind chill here is below zero. If you think of it, say a prayer for his safety and the safety of all those working in bitterly cold and sleep-deprived conditions.

My Sulvan Story

If anyone is actually out there reading this, I recommend that you check out this link before continuing. The ladies at CSPP have a delightfully witty and intelligent blog which I very much enjoy. After reading that post, you will understand the title of this one.

I married much earlier than I ever anticipated. In making that choice, I passed up scads of brilliant grad school opportunities. At the time when friends were considering law schools, MBA programs, and other lofty academic pursuits, I was navigating the world of wedding dresses and china patterns. While I was outwardly happy with the prospect of sharing my life with my beloved, deep down, I was hugely disappointed in myself, and felt that several people very close to me shared that same opinion. I had allowed the world to sell me its bill of goods that in order for a woman to be worth anything, she must abjure home and family and make her own way in the world. While I technically could have continued my studies, I did not want to cripple a new marriage with more debt than had already been accumulated from my undergrad studies. So I got a job unrelated to my field of study, just like every other liberal arts major that doesn’t go to grad school, and I kissed a promising academic career goodbye.

As the world first convinced me that marriage was a less than admirable pursuit, it was even easier to buy the message that having children is the equivalent to the end of your life. If you must get married, then for Pete’s sake, DON’T have kids. Or at least not right away. I heard that message from various and sundry well meaning individuals, as well as absorbed it by osmosis from the world around me. Not to mention that I have never been one of those “kid” people. Call me what you will, but I have never been one to fawn over a baby simply because it’s a baby, nor have I ever been impressed with childish antics simply because the person acting inappropriately is under 36” tall. As I was a child who very rarely acted like one, I never did understand why children do some of the things that they do. And the fascination and permissiveness of adults towards certain outrageous behaviors of children further convinced me that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with bearing or raising one of my own. To whit, I popped my little pill every night and carried on in blissful, child-free ignorance.

After four years of continuous pill popping, the detrimental physical and mental effects of synthetic hormones had taken their toll. When I finally began to link the problems I was having to my use of the pill, I went to see my doctor. She had me convinced that I was just this side of the looney bin. It couldn’t possibly be the pill that was causing these terrible occurrences, she said. You should stay on it until menopause as it’s safer than getting pregnant, she said. I went to specialists and did extensive personal research, all of which pointed to a link between hormonal birth control and my physical ailments. So what did I do next? I ditched the evil big-pharma doctor, and thanked God that I found a group of integrative medical doctors in my geographical area. The first doctor I saw there told me to stop the pill immediately as it was doing me great harm. He told me to start learning NFP. I followed his advice and slowly began to regain my health.

Once I tossed the pills, it was as if I had broken free of shackles. Learning about the harmful effects of the pill as well as investigating natural alternatives led to a period of personal discovery. For four years I had been plodding along like a horse with blinders. I had allowed my mind to stagnate because I thought that the choices I had made rendered me worthless. How foolish to have put myself through that kind of turmoil. I came to the realization that you don’t need degrees and fancy abbreviations behind your name to be intelligent. If I was as smart as I liked to think I was, I wouldn’t have tormented myself for years with that kind of foolishness.

Shortly thereafter I found myself faced with a minor crisis of faith. It wasn’t that I doubted my faith or the object of it, but my church had decided to become Purpose Driven. The reading and research that I did after this announcement led to the agonizing but necessary decision to find a new church home. Although it was not easy, the search again led to another period of discovery. This one however served to grow and deepen my faith instead of myself.

One of the ideas to which I was introduced along the way is that contraception in any form is wrong. I weighed and measured that one in my mind, initially rejected it, yet remained haunted by it. I prayed and searched for answers and couldn’t find any that I was completely comfortable with. If children are gifts from God, I had been willfully rejecting any chance of becoming a recipient. The reason you ask? My own comfort. Life as a DINK is pretty good. The addition of kids would mean one income, reduced flexibility, no sleep, more headaches – honestly, who wants to deal with that? But alas, God didn’t say “Be prosperous and fill your house with stuff,” He said “Be fruitful and multiply.” I just hate getting busted like that.

I continued to consider, and think, and work out the whole thing in my mind. All I got for my trouble was more uncertainty and a whopper of a headache. So one fateful day I decided to turn the whole mess over to God, as I should have done from the beginning. Poor Manny had been eagerly anticipating this day as he had always been open to the idea of kids – the opposition had been all mine.

Suffice it to say that baby #1 is due in August. (More on that later.)

The end.

I Just Had to Click On It...

So you get an email in your inbox that has a link to GodTube. A skit. You darn well know that in all probability it isn't something you want to see. But then you are overtaken by an acute attack of train wreck syndrome and you just HAVE to.

Come on. You know you want to hit play.



At first viewing I was bothered by the absence of the cross. Yep, that's where they went wrong, I thought. But a second run through revealed that there was a point at which the Christ figure with arms outstretched crumples to the ground, ostensibly in death. After that he is shown being consumed by the tempters, something that I associate with "He descended into hell." So in a very, and I mean VERY, loose fashion, some sort of substitutionary atonement is being put forth. There still is no physical cross, but what with the drum set and all, it most likely wasn't logistically possible.

You also have to overlook the botched up portrayal of the fall into sin. Where is it? Is our girl representing the Creation of mankind? If so, oops. Unless these are some Talmud-believing evangelicals, the woman created from dust thing just doesn't work. On the other hand, maybe our girl is supposed to represent God breathing new life into each person. If so, oops again. If that were the case, she should have been wretched from the beginning, and our Christ figure wouldn't have been looking quite so pleased with her. I guess I'm being nitpicky here, but I digress.

Then it struck me. The pantomiming in and of itself was not a completely inaccurate depiction of what we go through as sinner-saints. The LYRICS that the actions are paired with are downright disturbing. Here they are: ("Everything" by Lifehouse)

Find Me Here
Speak To Me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That's leading me
To the place where I find peace again.

You are the strength, that keeps me walking.
You are the hope, that keeps me trusting.
You are the light to my soul.
You are my purpose...you're everything.

How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

You calm the storms, and you give me rest.
You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall.
You steal my heart, and you take my breath away.
Would you take me in? Take me deeper now?

How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

Cause you're all I want, You're all I need
You're everything,everything
You're all I want your all I need
You're everything, everything.
You're all I want you're all I need.
You're everything, everything
You're all I want you're all I need, you're everything, everything.

And How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

Followers of Buddha, the Dalai Lama, or anyone/thing else could produce a "skit" with the exact same backdrop. The same thing cannot be said however for "Salvation Unto Us Has Come" or "In Adam We Have All Been One" or "In the Shattered Bliss of Eden." Bummer those hymns don't lend themselves to those nifty cross-body leads.

One thing they did get right - did you notice the alb and stole-like garments on the Christ figure? Looks suspiciously like vestments to me. Funny how in so many places it's okay for kids to play dress up with such a strong symbol of Christ's righteousness, but many men who are supposed to be standing in His stead shun them for lack of coolness. Hmmm.

Okay. Rant over.

Congratulations to Manny...

...who was sworn in as a United States citizen today!

I am so proud of him. It has taken us over 6 years to get here, and it has definitely not been easy, but what a relief to finally have it done. Thanks be to God!

Fiestas Guadalupanas

Mexico is a fascinating place, especially if one has any interest in anthropology. One of the most amazing sights to see is the celebration associated with the Virgen de Guadalupe whose feast day falls on December 12th. While the fiestas are amazing from a cultural standpoint, they are equally sad from a Lutheran one.

While staying in the pueblo where Manny grew up, we were awakened at 5 AM, every morning by quarter-sticks of dynamite set off by faithful devotees making a novena to the Virgin. This was followed shortly thereafter by vigorous tolling of the church bells. On some mornings, though closer to 6 AM, a small marching band of schoolchildren would assemble and process from just outside our hotel room to the church located in the plaza, about 9 blocks away. On the actual feast day a great mass of people congregates in order to parade to the plaza and to Mass. Some carry statues of the Virgin, some carry signs, and some will make the trip on their knees. One special young lady is chosen to represent the Virgin herself, and is dressed to resemble the image of Guadalupe in green and rose colored robes. Other children are dressed up as indios, wearing the traditional indigenous dress of their particular region.

A brief history of the apparition of Guadalupe, courtesy of Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Our_Lady_of_Guadalupe), is as follows:

“According to traditional Catholic accounts of the Guadalupan apparition, during a walk from his village to the city on December 9, 1531, Juan Diego [a poor, indigenous man] saw a vision of a Virgin at the Hill of Tepeyac [in Mexico City]. Speaking in Nahuatl, [the Aztec language] Our Lady of Guadalupe asked him to build an abbey at that site. When Juan Diego spoke to the Spanish bishop, Fray Juan de Zumárraga, he asked him for a miraculous sign to prove his claim. The Virgin asked Juan Diego to gather flowers, even though it was winter when no flower bloomed. He found Castillian roses, gathered them on his tilma, [cloak] and presented these to bishop Zumárraga. When he presented the roses to Zumárraga, the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe miraculously appeared imprinted on the cloth.”

Mexico is an overwhelmingly Roman Catholic country, but it is a very syncretistic Roman Catholicism that holds sway there. The Hill of Tepeyac in Mexico City mentioned above is home to the Basilica of Guadalupe and its stunningly beautiful gardens. Tepeyac also happened to be the place where the Aztec mother goddess Tonantzin was worshipped. In 1996, the abbot of the Guadalupe shrine was defrocked by the cardinal of Mexico City for saying that Juan Diego never truly existed, implying that the Guadalupe account was a myth intended to transfer the faith of the indigenous people from one goddess figure to another. The coincidence does not end with Guadalupe. Many prominent church buildings or shrines to particular saints were built on ground once dedicated to indigenous gods or goddesses.

The devotion of the people to the Virgin is fervent and pervasive. What saddens me so much is that the devotion is so terribly misplaced. When I did a semester abroad closer to Mexico City, I witnessed men and women crawling to the Basilica on their knees, coming to make their supplications or in thanksgiving for a favor supposedly granted by the Virgin. The Basilica itself is a church building devoid of Jesus and full of Mary. Many people will go to church their entire lives but will only know their Savior’s mother instead of their Savior. While Mary deserves high esteem for her role as Mother of God, that esteem should never eclipse nor replace the fount and source of every blessing, the One that she bore so that through His death and resurrection, we may have everlasting life.