IMO

Babies at Movies. Yes, I’m judging.

July 25, 2012 · 17 comments

in Bad Things, IMO, Movies, Other People, Serious

I don’t have a TV so I know very little about the whole movie theatre shooting. I do know that a lot of people are upset about the Colorado parents being judged about bringing little kids to movie theatres. While it isn’t the most important issue in the theatre shooting, I do think it needs to be talked about because it’s a huge pet peeve of mine. The most important issue being this:

If you bring a little kid to a Rated R movie you are a bad parent.

There are no ifs ands or buts about this. Very few things are as cut and dried to me as this. Only a parent who is incredibly selfish would bring a child to a strictly adult movie. Why not find a babysitter? Or go see something that won’t give your kid nightmares? You might say that it’s none of my business. But it certainly becomes my business when your child comes to school and teaches mine to drop the f-bomb.  It becomes my business when your child is exposed to tremendous violence. What do you think will happen to children who are desensitized to violence starting at such a young age? Hopefully they won’t end up shooting people at a movie theatre when they grow up.

I’m not talking about tiny babies. If you have a newborn you can get away with bringing her to a movie; she’ll probably sleep right through it. Depending on the sleepiness of my babies I could bring them to movies until they were 2-3 months old. Which brings me to my second pet peeve.

Babies and toddlers in movie threatres. If there are not talking animals then please consider not bringing your child. Especially to a prime time movie. Nothing makes an audience more upset than a whiny, crying, runny baby or toddler. You know why there aren’t more babies and toddlers at the movies in the evening? Because the rest of us got babysitters. Don’t be selfish/idiotic/rude and think that somehow your kids don’t count.

Please know that if you bring someone under age 4 to a movie, there is a good chance that you will have to leave the theatre. Even a newborn can wake up and start wailing. For the love of Netflix, please watch a DVD at home or get out there and hunt up a babysitter.

Mostly I just want parents to not be selfish. Get a babysitter. If you can’t afford one then what are you doing paying for a movie on a Friday night anyway? If you don’t know any babysitters then ask your neighbors for some names. Babysitters are not that hard to find!

 

Best and Worst Foods of Summer

June 28, 2012 · 10 comments

in Good Things, Hildie Likes, IMO, Yum

Worst:

For some reason Independence Day is the big Jello holiday. I guess because the weather is hot and Jello is cold. At least I guess it’s cold. I don’t really know. I find it disgusting beyond belief. it is slippery and slimy and feels to me like eating sweet mucus.

Ice cream bars. The outer coating is supposed to be chocolate but it’s actually something hideous and grotesque that merely looks like chocolate. Even as a sweet-crazed child who had been known to eat baking chocolate out of desperation, I simply could not stomach the coating on ice cream bars. Sometimes I’ll eat one. You know, if I’m at the zoo and that’s all there is. They can’t still taste so awful, I think. But they do. They still make me gag and I sit there like some sort of idiot picking bits of waxy chocolate off of my ice cream and throwing them in the dust, much to the delight of the ants below. But then I am left with a drippy wad of vanilla ice cream and what’s the point of vanilla ice cream anyway? Vanilla ice cream tastes like boring feels. So I lick it once and throw it away, swearing to never eat one of those ice cream bars again as long as I live. $3.50 wasted.

Corn on the Cob. Don’t get me wrong; I like corn a lot. And corn on the cob can be super yummy. But I refuse to eat any food that makes dental floss completely necessary. Heaven forbid you’re at a party or restaurant and don’t have access to floss. You’ll spend the next hour or two going completely insane trying not to pick your teeth. Corn on the Cob is simply not worth the effort. And cutting it off the cob is like a grown-up wearing arm floaties in the pool–totally babyish and out of the question.

Best:

S’mores. It’s hard to communicate to you how much I love these. I really dig food that has a variety of textures and the combination of crunchy and smooth and melty and hard and soft blows my mind. Then there is the toasty sugared sweetness of the marshmallow, the rich blast of chocolate and the mellow counterpoint of the graham cracker. I love the messiness of getting melted marshmallow on my lips and finding some long after I’ve gobbled up my s’more.  Talking about this is getting me so excited I’m about to build a fire pit in my backyard. But s’mores are best eaten while it’s dark, so I’ll have to wait a few hours.

Any meat on the grill. When you live in Texas, grilled food is pretty much a year-round thing. But there is still something summery about a burger hot off a fire. Mister makes fantastic burgers loaded with cheese and pieces of bacon. They come off the BBQ oozing grease and tasting like heaven. Any meat cooked over a fire just tastes better.

Macaroni salad is often disappointing but when it’s done right it is thoroughly delightful and I cannot get enough. Last year I was in charge of making macaroni salad and pulled pork for 200 girls at our church’s girls camp (it was at a vegetarian facility so no meat or animal products were allowed to be cooked on the premeses despite there being a wonderful commercial kitchen. So all food was cooked off-site and brought in.) Making that much macaroni salad is a little difficult. I had to make it in giant 5 gallon buckets and stir the ingredients with my hands. It should tell you how much I like macaroni salad that I was quite literally up to my elbows in the stuff and still wanted more. (Macaroni salad must have a crunchy component! Celery or bell peppers or it’s no good.) The best macaroni salad is made by Hawaiians but we haoles can come close.

What are your best and worst foods of Summer?

When You’re Having a Hard Mother’s Day

May 13, 2012 · 4 comments

in Church, Craziness (hildie's), Feeling Sorry for Myself, Holidays, IMO

Mother’s Day is a difficult day for a lot of people: there are the people who want to be mothers but can’t; the people who have lost their mothers; people who are estranged from their mothers/daughters; mothers who mourn the death of a child; and mothers who feel like they have totally failed at their job. I swear that half the women at church don’t show up on this day. It’s just too raw. Not even to get the plant/cookie/candy bar that the men hand out after church.

Here is my humble suggestion: remember the blessings that you do have. Because there are blessings in your life. Despite some heartbreaks that seems especially bleak on Mother’s Day, there is still reason to be glad. Even if it’s just because there is a new episode of Sherlock on PBS.

In either General Conference or Oprah (pretty much the same thing) the point was made that you can’t feel both depression and gratitude at the same time. The two are mutually exclusive. So let’s all choose gratitude today. Sit down and actively think of the wonderful things in your life.

Or you can do what I do: treat this as a day to make people cater to my whims. It is the day when I can use my female-ness to get people to do my bidding. I have asked York to scrub my very dirty stovetop, had my family to make me brownies, Pecan Honeypots and buy me my favorite ice cream; and had the playroom cleaned. All with a simple, “it’s Mother’s Day; you have to do as I say.”

When you look at it that way, there’s no reason not to adore this holiday!

You Think You Want A Dog?

May 10, 2012 · 15 comments

in Bad Things, Craziness (hildie's), IMO, Pets

Maggie dog at craft store
I probably don’t know you at all. But I know you well enough to tell you this: you don’t want a dog.  The desire to get a dog is kind of weird; like a biological clock in a way. One day you wake up and think, “I kind of want a dog.”  And then you start looking around and very shortly your mind thinks of nothing else but how badly you want a dog. No, not want; how you simply must have a dog immediately.

It doesn’t make sense. It’s not like the urge to have a baby. Actually it pretty much is. For most women a dog is the thing you get when the maternal urges are just waking up but the thought of taking care of an actual human are beyond frightening.We had a dog-baby the year before I got pregnant. I had zero experience with dogs and we got a chocolate lab. We named her Emma and she was the biggest spaz ever. We were such horrible pet owners because Mister and I were lazy, irresponsible twenty-somethings. When India was about six months old we gave Emma to some friends who lived on a farm. Hopefully she lived happily every after. Although I really don’t care because she drove me crazy and good riddance.

Sometimes a woman wants a dog when her kids are getting older and she realizes her baby days are history. But stupid women! Instead of rejoicing as we toss out the diapers, we feel like our lives must have more poop and mayhem. I know all about women like this because I am currently one of these. When Jasper turned six months old I realized that my newborn baby days were over. I didn’t intelligently think, “I have six children under age ten. It’s good that the newborn stage is over. I’ll still have my hands full.” Nope, pretty much the day that Jasper started sleeping through the night I began a frantic search for a dog.

And ended up with Margaret.

She is the sweetest dog ever but, you know, dogs bark.  And their poop is all over your backyard (or someone else’s yard). A lot of times they leave hair all over the place. And scratch marks. And they chew stuff up and cost a lot of money. (That heartworm medicine ain’t free, you know!)  Fortunately our dog isn’t a chewer or a digger but a lot of them are. Emma was. Emma ate everything she could get her mouth on (stupid Labs! Stupider us for owning one!). If you have a tall dog there’s a good chance your dog will eat something off of the kitchen counters. This isn’t just something that happens in those dumb Disney movies with the Golden Retriever puppies.

Also, let’s get down to the nitty gritty. Dogs eat their own vomit (which is a good thing really. I wish my kids ate their own vomit. Especially at three in the morning.) Dogs eat garbage.  Any garbage. Our dog eats any tissue or used bit of toilet paper she can get her grubby paws on. But it gets worse than that. Much worse. Like maxi-pad-worse. And poopy-diaper-worse. I don’t want you to faint so I’ll stop talking about this. But you really should know this stuff. Dogs are disgusting.

This is the worst part of having a dog: finding someone to take care of it when you’re on vacation. It’s either super expensive or a total pain (like when I took care of my friends dog and it ran away without us knowing and someone found the dog and called the number on it’s tag. So our friends who were vacationing in Florida had to call and tell us that the neighbor found their dog. Slightly embarrassing.) A lot of times it’s a pain and it’s expensive.

You also have to teach a dog to have good manners. We kind of forgot this. Which is funny because I’m super into children having good manners. But dogs? Meh, whatever. At some point, though, your dog will interact with society and it could very well be a debacle.

Yesterday I picked Maggie up from the groomers. Which is right by Hobby Lobby. Which I had to get something from. And it was 78°. Too hot to leave the dog in the car (just because I don’t like my dog doesn’t mean I’m heartless!), so Maggie came shopping with me. It went surprisingly well considering she is a weirdo. Except for the time she barked at some feathers. (Hobby Lobby can be very echo-ey. And having your smuggled-in dog bark inside of a store is mortifying.) Nobody blinked an eye. Even the cashier said nothing.

But I am not planning on taking my dog to the store again. Because my days of shopping with an unruly hanger-on are over. Unlike children, though, you can leave your dog at home in a cage. So I guess dogs aren’t all bad.

But I guess my conclusion is this: if you want a baby, have one. A dog is not the same. (No matter how many vets and groomers hand me my dog and say, “there’s your mom, Margaret!” and I have to point out that I bought her; she is a pet.)  Or don’t have a baby. Whatever. But don’t get a dog. Because, man, they are a pain.

The Day I Learned that Brunettes are Best

April 12, 2012 · 9 comments

in Feeling Sorry for Myself, Good Things, Hair, IMO, Makeup/Beauty

If you remember the 70s and 80s very well you’ll recall the popularity of The Blonde. Farrah Fawcett, Olivia Newton John, Christie Brinkley, Jessica/Elizabeth from Sweet Valley High, and pretty much every smiling face in Seventeen Magazine was a girl with shiny blonde hair. The brunettes in the media were represented by Joanie on Happy Days or Sabrina on Charlie’s Angels or Janet from Three’s Company; none of whom were particularly pretty or smart or spunky. (Chrissy had flaxen ponytails and short shorts but Janet had a disgusting mullet and boring dresses with pantyhose. So unfair!) All I can guess is that the brunette was supposed to be the “normal” person whose job was to make the blondes look more fantastic.   (Yes, eventually Jaclyn Smith showed up on Charlie’s Angels but by then I had a pre-teen girl crush on Cheryl Ladd.)

Then there was Barbie. I always hoped for a brunette version but Mattel decided that nobody would want to play with a brown-haired doll. I was forever trying to dye my Barbies’ hair (Brown crayola markers do not work well, FYI). Sometimes I would just get sick of those golden inches and I’d chop it all off.

One day I was at the mall waiting for my mom outside of my all-time favorite store, The Canary and The Elephant, which sold a broad assortment of gaudy 80′s plastic jewelry. (My favorite piece was a big silver bracelet with plastic ice cubes hanging from it. I was the belle of 8th grade, take my word for it.)  I had been watching all the blonde girls go by (although this was Michigan. There can’t have been that many. Heaven help me if I’d lived in California or the nation’s capital of blondness: Utah.)

When my mother showed up I wistfully told her how I wished I were blonde. She stopped dead and looked into my eyes. You’d have thought I’d just announced I wanted to pursue a life of prostitution. “You don’t ever want to be blonde.” She said slowly. “Do you have any idea how terrible they look without makeup? So washed out. There is nothing worse than a blonde first thing in the morning.”  She thought for a moment before continuing. “They look like they have no eyelashes and sometimes no eyebrows! A blonde without mascara looks horrible. They aren’t lucky enough to have well-defined eyes like us. No. Be thankful that you were born with brown hair. A striking complexion will win the day every time.”

And with that we walked out the door into the Detroit slush.

Her testimony of the superiority of brunettes stuck with me. It blossomed until I didn’t try to peroxide my hair anymore. I rolled my eyes at the yellow-haired girls on the TV screen. “I know what you really look like,” I said to them. (I was completely unaware that most blonde adults color their hair anyway.)

I love my brown hair. I mean, it’s not as great as red. That’s my dream hair. But it least I can skip the mascara sometimes.

And although I hate Bella from Twilight, I was thrilled to finally find a Barbie that has my coloring.

Some Odds and Ends

January 19, 2012 · 5 comments

in IMO, Misc., Uncategorized

This is what I’ve been thinking about lately:

People never use the word “marvelous” anymore. I think it’s a shame. What a great word! As a matter of fact it’s marvelous. So expect to hear it a lot more on this blog.

__________________________

My New Year’s resolutions have gone outstandingly well except one: to not sleep on top of my arms. I got in the habit of this while I was pregnant. I’m a stomach sleeper and when my belly got big I’d sleep on my arms to sort of cradle it and buy myself a few more weeks of sleeping in that position.  But now it’s just a bad habit and I can’t stop! Even though my arms go numb every single night and I’m sure I’m causing some sort of damage to them.  It turns out that keeping resolutions while you’re fast asleep is a smidge difficult.

___________________________

I’ve been watching and rewatching Downton Abbey so much that I’m a little peeved that nobody dresses me in the morning. My husband hates Mary and thinks she’s the devil but Mary reminds me a lot of myself, so I don’t know what to think of my husband hating her. He must just think I’m a super sweet, cheerful person. (Not sure how that’s possible but that’s the only explanation, right?)  If you’re not watching Downton, you are the only person in America who isn’t. Just so you know. And for heaven’s sake, don’t watch it on Netflix; the picture quality is really terrible. Get the BluRay. So much better.

____________________________

I’m starting to get back into cake decorating. I was doing it a lot several years ago but wedding cakes were really freaking me out so I sort of quit. Then I had a bunch of babies and while you might think a woman with six children would be the perfect person to make lots of cakes since she has an excuse, it turns out she is much too tired for that sort of thing. But I’m starting to get back on the bandwagon. I did a really fun cake this summer for one of India’s friends and I’d forgotten how much I like it (and hate it. It’s stressful.)  I’m doing a few master classes with some pretty well-known people in the cake biz in February. Hopefully this will get me psyched to be up to my elbows in buttercream again.

___________________________

It’s Girl Scout cookie season again here. For some super bizarre reason the cookies in Texas have different names than they did in Oregon and Michigan. Tagalongs are called Peanut Butter Patties. Who wants to eat a cookie that’s called a “patty”? Gross.  Samoas are called Caramel deLites. While I think “caramel” is a good move, “deLite” makes it sound like diet food. I wish, little Girl Scouts, I wish.

___________________________

Is there anything better than clean sheets tucked in extra tight? And to you naysayers who think tight sheets will give you ingrown toenails, you are dead wrong (and crazy). I’ve never had an ingrown toenail in my life.

____________________________

The other day at a church activity a girl was asked what one food she would take with her to a desert island.  I’ve thought a lot about my answer because I like to think about that sort of earth-shattering stuff. If I could get away with it I would say chips, salsa and guacamole from Chuy’s.  That’s more than one food but if you consider something like, say, spaghetti and meatballs which has lots of components, then chips, salsa and guac should totally be allowable.  If only one food were allowed I would say a deep dish pizza with sausage, black olives and mushrooms.  In either case I would require a supply of thoroughly chilled Mtn. Dew to go with.

 

 

How To Tell Your Kids You Can’t Afford Something

November 15, 2011 · 21 comments

in Christmas, Family, How-To, IMO, Kids, Serious, Toys, Uncategorized

With the holidays coming up I figured we could all use a little tutorial on How-To Tuesday about how to tell your kids that they won’t be getting everything their little hearts desire. Of course you need to know how to do this all year round. If you think you don’t ever need to tell your kids that you can’t afford something then you will end up with some pretty selfish, bratty kids. Please don’t let them anywhere near me. Because if there is one thing I hate it’s kids who are all, “me, me, me”. Which is a surprisingly large number of children these days.

Kids need to be told that you don’t have enough money. Even if you do. Can you imagine the surprise that awaits them when they leave for college without the basic knowledge that you can’t have everything you want? What will their adult lives be like when they’ve grown up not knowing that sometimes you won’t have enough money to buy what you want? Kids don’t learn this unless you teach them.

This is really hard for new parents. I remember when India and York were little and we went to Target for something. They both started asking for toys or some other nonsense. It was the first time they were old enough to actually understand what I was saying. I thought about telling them that were weren’t there to buy toys for them, which was only halfway true. The truth was that we were very financially strapped at the time. So I told them how we didn’t have very much money and if we bought toys we wouldn’t have enough money to buy food too.

I felt like a loser saying that.

The loserest of losers.

The great thing about kids is that they take things at face value. When you tell your three year-old that you don’t have enough money for the doll she wants, she isn’t going to think, “Boy, Dad must have a real dead-end job. Why doesn’t he go back to school and get his MBA or something? I can’t believe he doesn’t have ten lousy dollars. I have no respect for that man anymore.” Instead your child is thinking: “I want that doll. I waaaant that dollllllll! I want that doll now!!!!! What do you mean we have no money? There’s money in your purse! Don’t blab at me, Mom, just buy me the doll! Now!!!! I must have that doll! That doll is my key to happiness!” You get the idea.

But there is no arguing with, “we don’t have enough money.” Begging and pleading are pretty much nipped in the bud.  So not only is it effective, but it gets kids in the habit of thinking about money before asking for things. Which will hopefully lead them to think about money before they buy things as they get older.

If arguing or whining persists, you can always tell kids that they are welcome to write it on a list for Christmas/their birthday– a time when they will be getting presents.  This is how it goes for our Littles if they are being persistently greedy at the store:

Jasper: Mom, can I have this Play-Doh Set?

Mom: I’m sorry, Jasper, I haven’t got enough money for that. I only have enough money to buy the things on my list.

Jasper: But you have lots of money. I saw it in your purse.

Mom: That is all the money I have for food and toilet paper. If we buy your toy we won’t be able to buy dinner. I’m going to be hungry without dinner. And what about if there is no more toilet paper? That would be gross. But maybe you could pick some leaves in the backyard for us to use instead. That’s what Indians used for toilet paper.

Jasper: Ew! [not falling for my impromptu budgeting lesson]  But Mom, I really want that Play-Doh set. Please can you get it? I’ll do a chore when we get home.

Mom: When you do enough chores to earn you own money we’ll come back and buy it then. You have to do the chores first.

Jasper: Please mom!

Mom: How about we put it on your Christmas list? You’ll be getting presents then.

Jasper: [hesitant and not totally buying the whole Christmas List bait and switch] Hmmmm.

Mom: [acting quickly to distract from whining] What else would you like to put on your Christmas list? How about that Buzz Lightyear toy over there?

Jasper: [perking up as only a greedy child does] Yeah!  And the Woody and Jessie toys too! Plus that Darth Vader light saber!

Mom: Let’s start writing that list as soon as we get home. [This part is important!!!] You won’t get everything on your list but this gives Santa some ideas. [You don't want him to think he's getting everything on the list. Which he will certainly think unless told otherwise.]

So, not only did you deflect a whiny, selfish child but you got him to realize that he only gets toys at certain times. Not every time he goes to the store. And that money needs to be spent on necessities first.

I realize that many parents feel like they will make their children deliriously happy by buying them lots of stuff. Listen to me now:

You won’t.

Because stuff won’t make you happy.

Not you. Not your kids.

Do everyone in society a favor and tell your kids no. Tell them that money must be spent wisely. The sooner you do this, the better.

I’m not saying that you can’t ever buy your kids things. Sure you can. But it’s important that kids realize that there are limits, they can’t have everything they want, and that money needs to be spent intelligently.

You aren’t depriving your kids. You are giving them a much more valuable gift than anything you can buy at a store.

Unless its a jewelry store.

(Just kidding.)

 

 

Hypnobirth: My Experience

November 11, 2011 · 6 comments

in Craziness (hildie's), Health, IMO, Kids

As I mentioned in my post earlier this week, I am a fan of epidurals. But by my fifth baby I thought, I’d really like to know what if feels like to have a baby without pain medication. I would like to be able to say definitively which is better. There really is an undercurrent in our society of natural childbirth being the best, with an epidural coming in a distant second and a C-Section! Well, that’s the worst thing ever!  You might as well paint an F for “failure” on your forehead.  I happen to not agree with this, but that seems to be the message that pregnant women are fed day after day.

Since I am not a big fan of pain and avoid it as much as possible, I knew I’d need some tools in my arsenal to help with a natural labor and delivery. I needed to find The Secret. The secret that would allow me to give birth as pain-free as possible. I did some research and Hypnobirth seemed like the best fit for me.

Hypnosis is a bit of misnomer as this makes people think you’re going to be in some sort of goofy trance the whole time while your husband waves a pocket watch in front of your face.  Hypnosis in this case is actually just massive relaxation on demand; the idea being that if you are relaxed it will hurt a lot less. This makes sense.

Hypnobirth requires training. We found a good teacher but the training was pretty cheesy. Part of each class is practicing several relaxation readings with your partner.  But the rest of the class is spent discussing the ideas and philosophy behind Hypnobirth which I found a little eye-roll inducing. For example you’re not supposed call contractions “contractions” but something more positive. They recommend “surges”, but you can chose your own term. I decided on “fiestas” because doesn’t eating chips and guacamole and dancing sound pretty fun? Granted, I took the Hypnobirth classes with my sister and we sat in the back with our husbands and giggled and made fun of the hippy teacher and generally were disruptive and silly. I am a pragmatic person at heart and some of the background behind Hypnobirth seemed hokey to me.

The most important thing that makes Hypnobirth birth successful is practicing hypnosis, both in class and at home. This was really hard for me as I am naturally a sleeper. If you tell me to close my eyes it will only be a matter of seconds until I fall asleep (ask the people in my yoga class. I completely konk out during savasana every single time). But I tried really hard to relax (kind of a funny oxymoron) without falling asleep and got pretty good at it after a couple of months.

My husband recorded himself reading the various scripts we were given to help us relax with some flowy New-Age music in the background. That way I could listen to the recordings whenever I wanted. It’s really important to practice these a lot during your pregnancy so that your mind can instantly relax on command while you’re in labor. If you haven’t been practicing you will never be able to get on top of your fiestas and things will quickly fall apart.

When I had Jasper (baby #6) I figured that since I had used Hypnobirth successfully only 14 months earlier that I would still be able to do it, no problem. Consequently I barely practiced at all. And it was quite a debacle. After three hours of hideous contractions which–I SWEAR!–should have put me at eight centimeters but instead stalled me at four, I cried uncle and begged for the epidural. So I got one and Jasper was born ten minutes later. Whatever.

Hypnobirth during labor with Adelaide was very successful for me. Contractions for the most part were pretty do-able. I was in pain but hypnosis exercises (which I listened to for the entire five hours) really helped keep me in the relaxation zone. The downside of the constant need to be coached in relaxation is that you really can’t be talking to people. Which means that your phone calls and interruptions need to be kept to a minimum. My nurses were really good about coming in and monitoring me without bugging me very much.  But one of my friends is a doctor at the hospital where I was delivering and she came in to chat and would not leave. I pretty much had to scream at her to get her out of there.

The big fail in hypnobirth was the actual pushing. It hurt. More than I can communicate. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around that much pain. I’m pretty sure only chemicals can make pushing pleasant. For me it only lasted three minutes. But they were three very horrendous minutes. Very, very, very, very horrendous.

I was in no mood to be holding a baby after the delivery. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. I eventually got my shiz together and held my sweet little girl. But it took a while. Obviously the experience wasn’t too terrible because I got pregnant on purpose five months later.

My final verdict is that if you are determined to go natural, Hypnobirth is a pretty good technique. I liked that it required a lot of my husband. Usually he’s got his face stuck in the computer while I’m in labor or is taking “one last business call”. But Hypnobirth required that he be present for me.  If your husband is good for nothing or, like my friend Molly’s husband, is prone to fainting and ends up passing out and getting stitches when he hits his head on the hospital bed, then maybe you should forget Hypnobirth. Or get a doula.

 

Epidural vs. Nonmedicated Childbirth

November 9, 2011 · 28 comments

in Bad Things, Birthdays (everyone else's), Good Things, Health, IMO

Nowadays pregnancy and childbirth are much more stylish than when I started bearing children in the mid-90′s. And it seems there are even more opinions about what’s right and what’s not right. (Of course my opinion is superior.) I feel like I can offer a different viewpoint than most women because I have delivered six babies (well, seven if you count the stillborn. Which I did completely naturally but it was such a different experience we won’t be including it here) and I have done both epidurals and natural (using  Hypnobirth).

–Let me just insert a disclaimer here. This is my opinion. These are my experiences based on my views of life and the universe and reflect my personality. Yes, I know the most important thing is that the baby arrive healthy. Believe me, I know that better than most women. Don’t get all up on your high horse and think I am attacking your childbirth choices, whatever those might be.  This is just me talking. On my blog. So please keep that in mind before you comment.–

Most women have this desire to deliver a baby naturally. Somehow it has become the pinnacle of a woman’s achievements. A woman who can deliver naturally, breastfeed for 16 months and teach her baby a full vocabulary of sigh language is the woman who is a success. If this isn’t you, you’re a loser. At least that the unspoken message out there. I happen to not agree with that at all.

These are the reasons women claim to want an unmedicated birth and what I have to say about them:

1.)You can walk sooner after giving birth. You just had a baby! Where is it you’re going to be walking? There is nowhere to go. Listen, you need to get in bed and stay there as long as possible. Do nothing if you can avoid it. Your life is about to get a million times more difficult. Rest while you can.

2.) I don’t like needles.  Where have you been, you wilting Victorian violet? Needles are part of life. Get over it. Nobody likes them (except heroin addicts maybe).  Newsflash: the epidural is in your back. You won’t see it.  Also, you will eventually be in so much agony that you would welcome a needle in your eyeball if you thought it would make the pain go away.

3.) It is better for the baby. While this has generally been proven not to be true, I can say from personal experience that my drug-free baby was one of my sleepiest. She has since turned into my feistiest child. But all my epidural children are extremely mellow. I’m not saying that their births are the reason why, but is it just a coincidence?

4.) It’s cheaper. Very true. I have had to pay for epidurals out of pocket and it’s a drag. With epidurals costing upwards of $1000 it can be tempting to skip them. With baby #6 I had an epidural and he was born ten minutes later. You can bet I wanted a partial refund. But when you’re in pain you’d pay anything, anything!, for the pain to stop.

5.) I just like the idea of doing things naturally. Well, having a needle dripping chemicals into your spine is certainly not natural. But this seems like a pretty weak reason.

6.) I want to feel superior to women who’ve had epidurals. Nobody ever says this out loud. But I think it’s definitely the #1 reason most women go natural. I know the smugness of being able to say, “oh yeah, I’ve done it without an epidural.”  We mothers are a competitive bunch. Let’s just admit that right now.

7.) I watched some documentaries and read some books and they say that’s what’s best. Oh my gosh, really? Okay, you’re entitled to your opinions, as is Ricki Lake and lots of people who think that painting a nursery with non-organic paint is the most cardinal sin.  Let’s be pragmatic, though, and look at some of the benefits of going medicated.

The benefits of having an epidural:

1.) You are at a party and you’re the star! Having a baby is such a thrill and it’s so fun to call everyone you know, update Facebook and Twitter and take last minute votes on baby names.  It’s so exciting to be at the center of the best party ever. Guess who doesn’t care about any of this? A woman who is having to focus on doing relaxation exercises every three minutes during her contractions (excuse me, “surges”).

2.) You can make sure there is good music playing. Guess who doesn’t care about music? Yep, that woman in labor who doing those hypnosis exercises.

3.) You can make sure you look good for the pictures. Everyone sneers when I say this, like “how can you think about doing your makeup when you’re about to have a baby. You must be really vain.” But let me remind you that there will be about a jillion pictures taken and you will be in most of them. And those pictures will be around for a very long time. If you want to look haggard and terrible, go right ahead. But I prefer to have nicely done hair and makeup. You’ll be forever grateful you took the time. Guess who couldn’t give a crap about looking good? That lady who’s in transition and about to die a thousand deaths!

4.) You remember to take pictures. I wonder who’s husband was a little busy helping his wife deliver a baby? And who forgot to take pictures or even turn on the camcorder? The husband who is constantly telling his wife in a soothing voice to imagine she is walking down a staircase, and with each step she is becoming more and more relaxed . . . . When there’s an epidural happening, your husband gets to take his rightful place as #1 cheerleader and cameraman.

5.) You can savor the moment after birth a little better. I know a lot of women say that the pain disappeared the moment they held their babies, but all I could think after I delivered my baby sans epidural was “Pain. Pain. Pain. Damn. Damn, Shit.”  Holding my baby was the last thing I felt like doing.(and Heaven forbid you just had an episiotomy without anaesthesia. Yowee!).

Obviously I’m very pro-epidural. I had my first four children with epidurals but I felt like by baby #5 (Adelaide) I should be pretty loosey-goosey down there and hopefully the baby would just fall out.  It did not happen that way. And having learned my lesson, I went back to an epidural for #6.

This is how the unmedicated childbirth actually went down: I did my Hypnobirth exercises (I’ll be talking more about Hypnobirth tomorrow because I feel like if you are determined to go naturally this is a pretty good method) and the labor was actually not too bad, especially considering I was being induced.  I bounced on a yoga ball the whole time (about five hours). I am not a water-lover so the idea of getting in a bathtub or shower was completely unappealing.

Everything was pretty swell except I really needed my husband a lot. Husbands are very involved in Hypnobirth. It would have been nice to have him go get me something to eat (oh yeah, I eat during labor. I’m totally crazy like that.) I guess that’s the point of a doula but that doesn’t really appeal to me. The nurses at the hospital were pretty cool and let me do my own thing and barely bothered me. I guess since I’d had enough babies they figured I knew what I was doing.

At some point I started feeling horrendous pain and sure enough I was ready to push. Things quickly spiraled downward and I though I would die/burst into flames/split in half at any second. I only pushed for about three minutes but it felt like three days and by the time I was done I was crying and swearing.  I was so worn out and in pain that my husband caught the baby and I didn’t even want to hold the poor thing.  I couldn’t open my eyes, I was so miserable.  Mister was standing there going, “open you eyes!  It’s a girl!  Look!” I peeked one eye open and went back to my whimpering and cursing.  And then the doctor told me to push out the placenta. WHAT??? I never had to do that with an epidural!  Oh no, with an epidural it somehow magically appears. But if you are going natural you have to find the fortitude and courage to start pushing all over again. Let me tell you now, it’s daunting.

Thankfully I didn’t require any stitches down there. But it still hurt like someone had set my nether-regions on fire. There was no waning epidural residue to cover up the pain. Instead I just kept asking for more and more ice compresses and all the Vicodin in the hospital. Even though my legs were working just fine, my poor privates made it pretty impossible to get out of bed.

I felt like a truck had just run me over. It was about fifteen minutes before I felt strong enough to hold little Adelaide (who at the time was named Clementine). And then I wanted everyone to leave me alone so I could sleep for the next two days. This was quite different than the epidural experiences I’d had where I was the life of the party and thought every single aspect was perfect and delightful and I felt superb afterwards.

Honestly, it was not the beautiful, joyous experience that I’d had with my epidural babies. The pain really, really detracted from it. Maybe it’s because I had something else to compare it to but ultimately when it came time to have another baby, I had to go with the pain-free experience. It’s just so much nicer. Such a pleasant, lovely way to have a baby. And that’s what’s important to me.

So you’re stuck at home with a baby/toddler/preschooler, huh?

August 22, 2011 · 34 comments

in Family, IMO, Kids, Serious

There are a lot of kids around the country starting school soon. Mine are, including Jasper–the last of my six babies–who is heading off to Kindergarten. It really signifies the end of an era. The end of me being the mother of very little children.  This is what it boils down to: I have had tiny kids by my side at home for sixteen years.

That is a long time to be watching PBS Kids and Nick Jr. We have seen lots of shows come and go (I still view Joe as a usurper. How could Blue give up so easily on Steve?)

That is about eight jillion frozen chicken nuggets heated in the microwave.

That is a lot of marker/lipstick/poop I’ve had to clean off the walls.

That is a lot of trips in the Target Limousine*:

When I think about it I get a little sad.

Only a little.

Because sixteen years is a long time to be doing anything.

Especially doing the baby/toddler/preschooler thing. I have to say I’ve gotten pretty good at it, though. These are the things I’ve learned that are most important:

–The sooner you give a child a band-aid, the sooner he’ll shut up.

–Diapers are a million times easier than potty-training. Only insane first-time parents try to potty-train an 18-month-old. People love to act like potty-training is some sort of sign that they are great parents. It’s not.

–Never let a child say rude things to you, the parent. Ever. You need to nip that sass in the bud. And saying she doesn’t like the food you made is the ultimate rudest thing there is. I tell my kids, “You can think whatever you like but you may not tell me you hate your dinner”. If your kids don’t respect their mother, they aren’t going to respect anyone.

–Let consequences be the teacher. This is so hard but so easy. “You don’t want to wear a coat outside, kiddo? Fine. Freeze your butt off.” Guess what happens next time you tell her to put her coat on? She’ll do it.

–Showers are a billion times easier than baths. The splashing is completely contained. You can also sit on the bathroom floor using your laptop without worrying that somebody is going to drown. Plus baths are kind of gross. As my kids call it, “sitting in bum water”.

–There is no need for babies to read. Now if there were someone who could figure out how to get babies to scrub the bathroom, then I might get on board.

–Telling kids you can’t afford something is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s going to teach them that they can’t have whatever they want. It’s also the ultimate argument-ender:
Child: “Mommy, please can I get this [insert name of weird plastic animal with oversized head]. Please, please, pleeeeease???”

Mom: “No. If we buy it we won’t have money for bread. Although I’m sure zhu-zhu pets taste very good covered in peanut butter.”

Child: “oh.”

–Start as you mean to go on. Which means, don’t do something that you can’t imagine doing indefinitely. Motherhood is a constant struggle between doing what is easiest and doing what is harder but better in the long run. Yes, it’s easy in the middle of the night to let your toddler climb in bed with you. Way easier than walking her back to her own bed. But at some point you’re going to want that child to sleep in her own bed every night. And that’s a lot more difficult when you’ve got a bratty seven-year old. So before you give in to your child, think “do I want this to become a habit?”. If the answer is no, then don’t do it. It can be anything from driving your baby around so she’ll fall asleep, to ironing your son’s clothes every day so they’ll be warm when he puts them on (yes, I actually had a friend who did this).

–Kids don’t have an off-switch. Believe me, I’ve checked. For the basic reason that if they did, parents would only turn them on for about 20 minutes a day.

–If a children’s book has lots of words, feel free to read only the first and last sentence on each page.

–The more kids you have, the less you care about a diaper bag. Eventually you’ll just toss a couple of diapers and some wipes in the car and call it good.

–Don’t cheap out on photographs. Get yourself a nice camera or pay for professional pictures. By the time your kids are in school, photographs and a few crayon drawings are the only evidence you’ll have that this sweaty, tall boy who shaves used to be a sweet, tiny baby.

–Little kids and cupcakes do not play well together. Kids will lick off the frosting, take two bites and smash the rest into a gigantic mess of sticky crumbs. Do everybody a favor and pass out some Oatmeal Cream Pies instead. Not as festive but who can say no to Little Debbie?

There you go. Sixteen years of experience in one blog post!

 

*For the love of everything sacred, do not use these carts for your one child. Because some poor, downtrodden mother is going to stagger into SuperTarget with her 2 little kids and a baby and will have to try to cram them all in a regular shopping cart. Which means there will be no room for the two cases of diapers, let alone groceries. And if she sees you with your singleton hogging the very last big shopping buggy, she will want to run you over. All because you couldn’t say no to your 3-year-old and tell him that the reason there are seats for three people is because that’s who gets to use them.

← Previous Entries

Next Entries →