Ruby Ophelia

On Monday April 10th I woke in the wee hours of the morning to a rush. I had wondered while laying in bed the night before if I'd wake up in labor after experiencing lots of bloody show and mild rushes all day Sunday. With the light of the near full moon shining in from the window I laid patiently waiting and hoping for the next wave to come over me. At 2:36am I felt a familiar POP and knew my water had broken. I knew if I made any sudden movements our bed would be soaked. I woke Marcus and asked him to quick grab me a towel because my water had broke. He shot right up! He handed me the towel and I wadded it up under me and sat up. As soon as I did my waters came rushing out. We were both buzzing with excitement. We headed downstairs and began to set up our birthing space. Knowing how quickly my others had come after my waters ruptured we were sure that we were well on our way to having our sweet Ruby earthside. Marcus began to fill the pool and I text my midwife to keep her in the loop. I also called my mom and sister to have them head over. At this point it was storming and Hazel woke to the thunder and hollered out for me. I went to her and tried to snuggle her back to sleep in our bed. Soon my mom and sister arrived and Marcus came up to relieve me from Hazel duty. She ended up waking enough that he just brought her down to hang with us. Pretty soon the other kiddos started waking up and getting excited because they'd seen we were all set up and waiting on Ruby.

My rushes were almost non existent at this point coming maybe every ten minutes and very weak compared to any rush I'd ever experienced after my waters had broken. The rest of the morning continued on like this. My ex husband came to pick up Owyn and Ellie because we hadn't planned to have them there for the birth. I think I showered. We got Hazel down to sleep and I napped for an hour or so somewhere in there in hopes of things picking up if I let my body really relax for a bit. I woke to Marcus laying next to me and we locked eyes. Things hadn't really picked up at all. Hazel woke and we all goofed around in the bed for a while.

 I spoke with my midwife and they decided to head over around noon to try some different techniques in hopes of bringing baby down into a good position suspecting this was the reason things weren't moving along. They arrived and they checked Ruby's heart rate and I had my only cervical exam of my pregnancy. I was dilated to a four and Ruby was sounding good as ever. We got my belly wrapped up nice and tight and then Marcus, Hazel, the dogs, and I went for a walk around the track behind our house. When we arrived back home my mom and sister had decided that they would take the kids and head out to my sisters in hopes of giving us some peace and quiet and getting things rolling. This was only our second time being without Hazel since her birth and she was a little hesitant and calling my name as she was being strapped into her carseat. They were planning on being back in time for the birth and I was feeling relieved to get the chance to just try to labor without a toddler on my heels, haha! Little did I know this is the last time I would hug and kiss Hazel with her being my youngest babe.

After they took off we wrapped, walked, lunged, and laid in different positions hoping for some good solid contractions to kick in. Nothing was working and I was beginning to feel really discouraged and let down by my body. I was starting to feel like I would be transferring to the hospital come morning and lose my decade long dream of having my homebirth. I expressed how I was feeling to Marcus on one of our walks and he reminded me to keep my head positive and said that he was sure we'd have this baby by morning. (days later admitting that he too was having some doubts.)

We'd gotten home and were talking with the midwives and they asked how I felt about trying some black and blue cohosh. I agreed and did a shot chasing it with my Naked juice sometime around 4pm. It was pretty earthy tasting. After that we wrapped the belly up again and took off for another walk around the track. This time I had five or so good rushes and as they would hit I would squat leaning into Marcus to help me back up. I came back filled with hope for the first time in a while. I remember jokingly saying something about drinking the whole bottle of B&B cohosh. It felt like a miracle! I did some more lunging, side lying intervals on Dom's bed, and took another shot or two throughout. My rushes were coming every seven or so minutes at this point and becoming more intense. We may have walked or laid or lunged.. It was such a long day but I was finally feeling like things were picking up and Ruby would be in our arms soon. Marcus drank a couple of PBR's and I could tell he was enjoying being at home rather than in a hospital room. A bit before 6pm my midwives decided to go grab some dinner. I feel like as soon as they left and it was just Marcus and I things grew way intense. I paced between the livingroom and Dominic's room. (our back up birthing space off of livingroom.) As I paced I would stop in the doorways and rest my head against the trim of the door and sway my hips through rushes. My back began to hurt and Marcus rubbed it for me. I felt like they were becoming so strong and was really wanting to get into the water. I text my midwife at 6:24pm to ask if I could jump in the shower and she told me she was on her way. When she got here she agreed that I could shower but wanted to listen to Ruby first. Ruby sounded great as always. At this point I was getting really teary eyed and would tear up during each rush or even just when my midwives would talk to me in their gentle midwife/doula/loving tones. :) My midwife checked my blood pressure and temperature. Both of which were up. My blood pressure not concerningly so but my temperature was worrisome. I had a long sleeved shirt on so my midwives had me strip down to my bra and skirt and rubbed peppermint oil on the bottoms of my feet. I sat on my ball feeling sure that I was heading for transfer if we couldn't get my temperature to come down. I was reassured when I was told that since Ruby sounded good she wasn't entirely concerned and that we could also attempt Tylenol to bring it down. Luckily the oils and less layers brought it down.. SUCH RELIEF!

Around this time my midwife's second assistant arrived. I hadn't met her before but remember thinking that she brought in with her the sweetest presence. I was so blessed to have this group of women supporting me. My rushes were so strong at this point and I would jump off of my ball and sway in the doorways as they would hit. As they became almost unbearable I retreated to Dom's room and Marcus followed. I remember glancing out at the sunset. I paced in there having a few really strong ones and I think I may have been standing arms around Marcus' neck for a few trying to make it to the other side. He whispered to me during a really hard one that we were doing this. "This is it babe. It's really happening. You're getting the birth you've always wanted. You're so close now."

I was standing at the foot of Dom's bed and said something along the lines of feeling her head and having the urge to push. I remember looking to my midwife for her approval and her reassuring me, telling me to listen to my body. I was feeling nervous about pushing. I knew at this point that things had gone pretty fast and that the pool wasn't all the way filled or the right temperature. I also knew how fast my body pushes my babies into the world and was so afraid I'd tear. Funny because I worry about this every single birth and it has yet to happen. (wait, let me rephrase that, with Ruby being our last it never will! haha!)

As I was pushing Marcus was sitting on the end of the bed. I had one knee on the bed and was standing with my other foot on the floor. I had my arms wrapped around Marcus' neck and he sat under supporting me and ready to catch his second daughter. (my midwife later told me that he had the sweetest grin on his face) I was really trying to breathe her head down and slow my body from just PUSHING like it likes to do in hopes of sparing her from bruising and instead just easing her out. Looking back I think I did an okay job of it and my midwives assistant even mentioned that I'd done great at it. Her head was born and my midwife said something to Marcus about seeing her beautiful face. Shortly thereafter her shoulders were born with real force so much so that it felt like they were tugged out. She slipped into the world and her daddy's hands at 7:38pm. I crawled onto the bed, laid on my back, and they handed her to me. I was so relieved to have her in my arms. Marcus came and kneeled next to the bed and we admired our brand new daughter. He snapped a couple of pictures of her and I laying there in pure baby bliss. I delivered the placenta and Marcus cut the cord. I sat up a bit and Ruby latched right on and nursed really well. After a good nursing/cuddling session I got up and was helped to shuffle to the bathroom to clean up while Marcus cuddled Ruby. I came back out and laid on the couch and she nursed again. Shortly thereafter and in between buzzing about and cleaning up the birthy mess our midwife checked Ruby over as well as weighed and measured her. She weighed in at eight pounds thirteen ounces and was twenty one inches long. Just one ounce bigger than Hazel making her the biggest of my five. She was and is pink and perfect! Our midwives finished some laundry and picking up and were out the door after hugs were shared.

The next morning I'd woken up and was feeling bummed that things hadn't gone "as planned." Wishing that my labor had been more predictable like my others. Wishing I'd have had time for my water birth and that I'd been able to handle the intense contractions with more ease. These thoughts lasted an hour or so and then I really came around from that sort of thinking. Letting go of expectations can be so hard and birth can be so unpredictable. I am so grateful to have had the homebirth experience with this last babe of mine. I stood in my son's bedroom and pushed my baby into the world, into her daddy's hands. That's pretty badass and I did it, WE DID IT! Then we snuggled into our own bed and fell even more in love. It's now just over 78 hours later and I'm still here floating around on this oxytocin high. Ruby is still nursing wonderfully and as of today everyone is smitten (it only took a certain toddler a minute to come around after a couple of "MY MAMA'S!!" were hollered out... ;)) She is so beautiful and we are all so blessed by her, our sweet Ruby Ophelia.

Hazel Winter

I was experiencing rushes off and on all day on Saturday January 24th. They weren't strong or very regular so I didn't pay them much attention and went about my day tending to children and housework, as usual. I decided to have a glass of wine with lunch in hopes of stirring things up a bit but it didn't help to bring the rushes any closer together. When I was relaxing with the kids on the couch that evening things were feeling "off." I knew that the birth of our sweet Hazel was imminent.

 We went to bed that night and I figured the rushes would fade, as I did, with sleep. I remember one good one coming on shortly after I fell asleep and it waking me, if only for that minute. At 2:30am on January 25th I woke to use the bathroom. When I wiped I noticed quite a bit of "bloody show" and found myself wide awake and excited as could be. I went back up to bed with my head buzzing. Our birthing time was close. So close. I knew we were about to meet our baby girl. After laying in bed for a couple of hours and trying to force myself into sleep I finally gave up. I got up, wandered around the house in the dark of the night, and felt the rushes intensify. I really didn't want to have to wake everyone and was hoping to leave them asleep until at least 7am. I decided to relax in the tub for a while. After that I got dressed and started packing my hospital bag. Marcus would wake periodically to ask how I was feeling. I remember shrugging him off in hopes of laboring alone in the quiet of the night just a little longer. This time though he noticed me dressing and packing and told me I could turn on the closet light. After that I made my way back downstairs and finished readying for the hospital. At this point the rushes were about 3-5 minutes apart. I decided I better call the kids' dad and let him know we'd be bringing them soon. I decided I couldn't wait any longer and went to wake Marcus up. As he was up getting ready the boys started waking from all of the early morning hustle and bustle in the house. I told them Hazel was coming and they were off to get ready for a day with dad. Matt text and said he could meet us halfway. We grabbed Ellie out of bed and told her that her sister was coming and we needed to take her to daddy. We threw a blanket over her and strapped her into the van. Just as we were walking out the door it began snowing. The flakes were falling so fast that by the time we made it across town to the highway the roads were covered. We pulled into a nursing home parking lot to drop the kids off. After exchanging kisses and saying our goodbyes we were on our way to the hospital. The drive was slow going with all of the snow and it was then that we decided that Bea and Rose weren't nearly as fitting middle names as Winter for our sweet girl. So Hazel Winter she was. We finally pulled into town and decided to swing by Hy-Vee and grab organic virgin olive oil for the birth. This was the only time I got to park in the expectant mothers spot and giggled to myself that a laboring mothers spot wasn't a closer option. By the time we arrived at the hospital it was a little after 7am.

I had my first cervical exam of my pregnancy and was dilated to a four and stretchy. I was admitted. All of the nurses were so sweet and excited to have us there since they'd all worked with my mama for so many years. I found out that the room with the whirlpool where I'd delivered her brothers and sister was already taken so they let me pick which room I'd like out of the few that were left. I picked the room that had the most sunlight pouring in. There were two pines outside the window that were beautifully decorated by the freshly fallen snow and a patch of tall grasses swaying back and forth. Marcus ran out to the van to grab our bags and my birthing ball. I was immediately hooked up to the monitors to check baby's heart tones. I was already kind of bummed because my rushes had slowed to about 7-10 minutes apart on the drive down and being strapped to the bed wasn't helping them to pick up any. I was almost sure I was going home. Soon the nurse came in to let me off of the monitors. I started to roll my hips on my ball and pace the room. I also ate an apple and snuck some bites off of Marcus' sandwich. Just as my contractions were picking back up the nurse came back in to strap me to the monitors again. I expressed my concerns with my rushes slowing each time I'd lay down . We compromised and I only had to be on a short time. This time as I lay in the bed I decided to do some nipple stimulation  and much to my surprise every time I would touch them a rush would come on. Marcus sat at the end of the bed rubbing my feet through each rush. Soon the nurse was back in to take me off of the monitors. This time she made mention of my rushes being more steady.{{thank you nipples!}} I'd just sat on the edge of the bed to attempt to drink some soup as I felt a rush coming on. I stood to lean over a chair nearby and sway my hips. Marcus stood behind me rubbing my lower back and all of the sudden I felt a POP!  I said "I just felt something pop." Marcus said "yea, that was my elbow." and that's when I felt the warm water running down my legs. "Nope, that was my water!" After I got all cleaned up I got back into bed for another short monitoring session. (I hate those monitors!) This time in bed I did more nipple stimulation and the rushes were becoming stronger. I kept reminding myself that my rushes weren't stronger than me because they were me. With each one I would close my eyes, keep my mouth loose by saying ooooOoooOoooh, and visualize my body opening like a lotus. All the while in the bed I would rub a piece of jadeite in my left hand trying to stay open and not grip my hands or tense my body. It was about this time that I decided I wanted to labor in the shower. Water has always helped to keep me at ease in labor and I knew it was time to get in. The water felt so good on my skin. Those showers with all of the different shower heads are a dream come true for a laboring mama. There was a little bench in there but I knew I couldn't sit. I stood holding onto the handrails and swaying my hips. I would sway though the rushes saying "oooOooOoooh and oooOoooOopen." The drain in the shower was clogged and Marcus was having to set towels at the shower door so we didn't flood the bathroom. I spent about 45 minutes in there and could tell I was close to transition. The water was exactly what I needed to bring my baby down. I could tell that I would soon need to push. Our nurse came in and told Marcus that it was time to get out and check the monitors again. (She had tried to have me wear the portable ones into the shower but Marcus kindly asked if we could just leave them off for a while and she agreed.) Marcus stepped back in from talking to her and I knew it was time to get out and I broke down. I began to cry and said "if we ever do this again this is why we WILL have a homebirth!" He told me everything was okay and I didn't "have" to do anything I didn't want. "We'll flood this whole hospital if we have to, baby." That's when it hit me, I'm crying, this HAS to be transition! I got out to the bed and Marcus told the nurse that I thought I was in transition. She kind of gave us a surprised look and then went out and told our midwife. She came in and checked me to find that I was only a six and that she couldn't easily feel the top of Hazel's head. We decided that she was in a weird cockeyed position in there and that had been the reason for the back labor I was having. I was feeling completely defeated at his point and my midwife suggested that I do some lunges and knee ups to try to get her to rotate better down in my pelvis. I stood and practiced these techniques in between each rush. With each rush I would throw my arms around Marcus' neck and ask him to rub my lower back as hard as he could. His arms had to be so sore by the end of it! It was around this time that I mentioned that "I might need something to take the edge off." and that "I think this is my biggest baby yet." He knew that this was really the last thing that I wanted and had to talk me down off the ledge. "You're doing great, baby. You've got this, I know you do! Just try to relax and open." I remember being so hot and feeling like I might pass out. Between contractions Marcus would fan me with a towel. A few more hard rushes after that and I was feeling pushy. Marcus went to the door and let the midwife know. She came in and asked which position I wanted to push in. At this time I was sitting bum on the side of the bed, resting on my arms, with my feet on the ground. I decided I wanted to push right where I was. After a few rushes in that position my arms grew weak and I got up onto the bed. A few good pushes, some loud "oooOoooOooh's," and a couple of "F words" later and her head was born. I had a minute to rest and then my body started pushing for her shoulders. She was wearing her umbilical cord like a seat belt and it took a couple of good pushes for them to be born. Hazel Winter was born at 3:17pm into her daddy's hands after about 10 minutes of pushing. He passed her up to me and I tore my gown down and put her to my chest. She latched on to my breast almost immediately and I felt my eyes well up with tears. I told her that we'd been waiting for her and how in love with her I was. Marcus bent over us and laid his forehead against mine and I felt his warm tears running down over my face. We were so elated. About 10-15 minutes after Hazel's birth I delivered our placenta and Marcus cut the cord. I asked to see the placenta. It was big and beautiful and sits in our freezer waiting to be planted in the just the perfect spot under a hazelnut tree, little Hazel's hazelnut tree.

We spent the hour following her birth in a blissful dreamlike state just staring at her. We nursed, cuddled, and loved on each other in that tiny hospital room. We were so high over the wild experience that had just brought us our baby girl. After an hour had passed a nurse came back in the room to weigh and measure her. She weighed in as my biggest baby yet at 8 pounds 12 ounces. She was 20.5 inches long and as pink and perfect as could be. Soon Hazel was back in my arms and at my breast and she's been pretty content there ever since. At eleven days old she's nursing like a champ and the sweetest little baby. She's stolen each and every one of our hearts, our little Hazel Winter.

time spent here

heart dancing wild
soul set to fly
this freedom i feel
reaches up to the sky

my lungs breathe easy
feet love to move
released onto this journey
im finding my groove

life moving forward
sunrise and sunset
still simply just me
are you feeling it yet

whole self on the grow
plant my seed in the ground
compass in your hand
yet lost and spinning round

scattered and searching
deep in the forest of your brain
one day to find
roots always remain the same
                        ~kmm

I spend a great amount of my time with my nose stuck to my journal and pen glued in hand these days. Our lives have been shifted and while at times it's hard for our littles {mostly our boys} to understand we continue to move forward, faces filled mostly with smiles. The change has been immense and the littles are now getting used to sharing two homes without their mama and papa sharing in one. Mama and Papa are however finding our balance within our new roles in one anothers lives and I'm proud to say that this start to our co-parenting journey has been filled with nothing but ease. We remain great friends because at the root of everything there was this awesome friendship and while being in love didn't or couldn't last, love did. We've shared and loved through some of the most life altering experiences together.. The memories and friendship always to hopefully remain.

Our littles continue to amaze me on a daily basis. The biggest being so filled with wisdom at the age of six that I have constantly have to step back and ask "He's six?" It seems that we've been in each other lives as long as I can remember. Growing up with one another, six years hardly seems long as the life we've shared together. I feel his struggles and he is continually effected by what's going on and out of his control. Sometimes he, often actually, he has moments filled with rage and confusion. The thing is that the kid is so bright he's bound to feel everything and share everything, he's been raised on this journey knowing that his feelings matter most and he should feel/speak/show as he pleases but to always try to be mindful of kindness. With what he's going through the kindness has been lacking, but I see his wheels turning and know that his actions even on his cloudy days are intertwined with love. Times are hard but communication is the key and with that we will ride this thing out into the sunset, mama and her first little. And to quote him, while taking a time out for himself and deep in discussion with a friend about growth, actions and reactions he said "I could trace my steps today for tomorrow." and my heart melted. The kids got soul.

Our midlittle has had a case of the gunk this past week. He is slowly on the mend and as always very go with the flow. Growing day by day physically and mentally he's bound and determined to figure things out on his own. He's been working on tieing his shoes but doesn't want to know how to tie them because he already knows, he's brilliant you know, a boy of his own words and his own funky lace tying do-ups. He fills my heart.

Our wee little gal is doing fabulous! Nearly crawling, definitely getting around one way or another already. Filled with waves, and claps. She is growing before my eyes into this little person. This great little person, in fact. One that I look forward to spending my time with. It really is amazing how quickly they grow, each day brings something new. Life is always interesting as a mama.. and I am forever grateful for these little loves of mine.




deep in thought, a quiet rest in her favorite spot.



celebrate this place in this beautiful time and space

to bend and bow but never break
grow and give yet never take

roots running deep like secrets beneath the ground
for hundreds of years to never be found

one with the soil while reaching for the sky
safety and home place to lives that fly

limbs set free to shake, dance and sway
continually connected along the way

one by one your leaves will fall
bright colors gone you still stand tall

wisdom is great and time here is long
to look to you is to keep me strong

you're beauty is one to appreciate
a generous life we must celebrate

when you're all gone who will we be
for we can live a life unknown by a tree

                                      ~kmm

Happy Earth Day week wonderful folks! Hope life finds you well.. I've missed this space!

A Little Masterpiece

Our biggest little is very into writing and drawing and most often when he shows me one of his masterpiece's my heart swells, and this one was no different. Except maybe that this time I was wondering if my heart was going to jump up out of my throat and wrap it's ventricles around him like arms. Nah, but seriously, this one melted me. I am blessed to have such a cool little man to share my time with. This little is wise beyond his years.

Love is when I get together with my family and animals. It makes me feel like love.
                                                           -Dominic Isaiah

Real Love

Eight years ago today I walked into a busy cafeteria and handed a love note to one of my dearest guy pals. We'd been really connecting, and after a long walk with our pups {and other friends} out on the river I knew there was something real there. I could no longer go on ignoring it, and I knew he was feeling it too, he had been in fact since the first time we dated when I was maybe thirteen. He claims he knew I was the one way back then--only that time I broke his young heart. But this time I wanted to give it another go. I was so nervous walking in and handing him that letter that I stayed up all night pouring my heart and soul into the night before.


I am happy to say that the letter was well received. Just as I knew he was feeling the same energy and our relationship went wild and crazy from there. He came over on the night of March 6th, 2003 and the rest was history. We fell madly in love. We were crazy over each other. But, we were young. And not only were we crazy over each other but we were mostly plain crazy. Crazy teenagers.There were a lot of ups and downs in the first seven months of our relationship. It was so new and exciting but we both had pasts that we were trying to move away from which proved harder than we'd both thought. However we made it through and in the seventh month of our dating relationship we found out we were pregnant with our first blessing. A huge surprise for both of us but an exciting wonderful one at that.


We got our first place together about a month before I graduated high school. He moved in right away while my ma made me wait until either I had my first little or turned eighteen. {they were due to happen within days of each other} Graduation happened and I waited patiently for our blessing to come earth side. After he arrived we all moved in together and family life as we knew it had begun. There were a lot of struggles that first year living together but we pulled through like we always do. He proposed to me in that old house when our biggest little was six months old. So many memories.


We decided to get married about a year and a half after he proposed with our second little already on the way. Our wedding day was nice and relaxed. Just the way I'd hoped it would be.Shortly after the nuptials we headed to the hospital to find out the gender of our second little. Such a special day. We found that we were indeed having a second son and then we headed home to pack our car to head out for our honeymoon filled with live music, family, togetherness, and last but not least, love.


We welcomed our very last little in July of last year. We tried so hard to bring her into our lives and now that she is here our family is complete. We still have our struggles, what relationship doesn't? This new year has proved harder than ever before in our relationship, but we always continue to look towards the future. And in the future we see one another. We feel that we were meant to be, that this love we have is more powerful than anything. Our two Gemini souls were meant for one another and if you look at the compatibility between two Gemini's you will find that we happen to be very in tune, and together are the most interesting couple one might know. Interesting indeed.

So today, as I sit here and reflect on our eight years together I am grateful. Grateful for all that we've shared and will continue to share in the future. Grateful for all that we have overcome. Grateful for the things we will overcome together in the future. Lots of gratitude. I know that our paths were meant to cross and I thank the universe for the many lessons we have learned together as one. I hope our littles can see that love is worth it. It is worth fighting for. I hope that one day when they are in love, from the highest to the lowest moments, that they will feel how real and deep it really is. That they will be able to be real with their loved ones always, that they will always remember to protect their love, to water it like a flower so that it only continues to bloom. But mostly I hope that they will find their soulmate, the one that even when they'd rather not connect with them something is there drawing them back, and proving it's worth. That it's meant to be. I hope that they find a connection like their papa and I have. A safe connection. One that, in marriage or not, will last a lifetime. Because to me marriage is a document--a vow to stick together forever. But real love, love that's not found on paper, love that's found the way we found it eight years ago as two friends out on the banks of the Green River feeling high on each other and freedom without any jotting down of John Hancock's because anyone can sign their name, but it's what they feel in their heart and soul that counts most. I've known ever since that night in March of 2003 our relationship was extraordinary, and no matter where life takes us we will always share this connection. This love we have is real. And on our anniversary I am feeling it set me free.

Good Enough

I often have a bad case of the good enoughs. I worry that I am not good enough for this and that. That I don't look good enough. That my clothes aren't good enough. That my thoughts aren't good enough for certain people. That my love isn't good enough. And with all of the struggles I've been dealt lately I am struggling with the good enoughs more than ever.

The thing is that I have these three wonderfully amazing littles. I want them to feel good enough. I don't want them to see mama struggling with herself but I do want them to see that this case of the good enoughs is very real. And that throughout life they will feel the weight of these good enoughs that everyone feels. However I want them to be able to accept the good enoughs, to be real with them. I want them to embrace them, to feel them, to move through these feelings and truly feel them knowing that they are not alone. Everyone has these feelings the key is to be able to accept these good enoughs, I don't want them to hide these feelings. They are very real. They should be talked about. This society we live in is a scary place. I think it's time to communicate with one another. Instead of trying to compete or catch up over and over again lets talk about our differences, lets share our good enoughs, and as Single Dad Laughing says here: lets be real.

I want my littles to know that they are good enough. They are one person, the one person, in fact, that they were put here on this beautiful planet to be. I don't want to see them struggling with the good enoughs, but I know they will. I have already seen my boys start to feel it. The pressure of the good enoughs that is. And I know that now, well now, we have a daughter. A daughter who is going to feel the good enoughs maybe even more so than her brothers have or will. I want her to feel beautiful inside and out. I don't want her to compare herself with the women around her with hair died three different colors, jeans squeezing their butt cheeks, and make-up on their faces thicker than mud on pigs feet. I want her to feel good enough. I want her to know that her natural beauty IS good enough. I want her and my boys to know that everything they do in their life is good enough. Everything happens for a reason. You are exactly who you are for a reason. Everyone has faults and everyone has beauty and we need to accept both within ourselves and others. These feelings need to be talked about openly and honestly. They need to be validated. We all need to be accepted for who we are. And most of all we need to be real. Real with ourselves and those around us.

I hope I can help to inspire my children to share these good enoughs with myself, Papa Bear, and whomever else they feel could benefit. I hope that I can help to teach them to be real. I hope that they will grow not only to be compassionate towards others but also towards themselves because before we can love others we must first love ourselves. Our real selves.

And in the spirit of being real I must end with a good enough. Because through writing this blog post I am feeling this feeling that is very real and very good enough.

::I hope I am a good enough mama to teach my littles to accept and validate these feelings inside themselves and others. And to help them to know and feel within and without that they are in fact good enough and exactly the person that they were put here to be.::


"A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty." - Albert Einstein



Bedtime Boogie

Bedtime for the boys is always a huge drawn out process.

It looks something like books, kisses and hugs, drink, snack, music, tucked in. Except the tucked in only lasts until I hit the lower level of our home. Almost as soon as my foot hits the last stair I hear one of them jump out of bed up there.

I'm currently sitting in the rocker with a sleeping baby in my lap, boob still hanging out even though she's been detached for a good ten minutes now, and a New Castle in hand listening to Tennessee Jed which just so happens to be blaring from the upstairs now with feet hitting the floor in what seems to be a dancing frenzy and I just sit here and smile. They are crazy littles with a ton of spunk and I sure love having them in my life.

And even if I'd planned on some quiet time tonight just myself, my beer, and my blog I have to admit I'm enjoying the {even more loud than before when I called it blaring!} music which now happens to have been changed to Lawyers, Guns and Money how's that for a lullaby? And with the Widespread Panic being played I now know that our biggest little is the DJ, caught red handed with the tunes he picked.

Soon enough they will lay down and I will go up, re-tuck, and turn the music on low. But for now they are free to party because this mama fondly remembers late night boogieing with her sister when she was younger and knows that moments like this are the ones that last a lifetime.


And speaking of sisters-this little one's 7 months old already!



Sun Kissed Mind

Today the sun is shining and spring thoughts are jumping around in my head like rabbits on a pogo sticks. I've got so many things in store for this years warmer months. Things like expanding my herb garden, lots of working in the veggie garden, swimming, fishing, hiking, camping, camping, camping. {Did I mention I can't wait for camping?}

As our smallest little is laying on the bed next to me making a mess in her diaper I can't help but be excited over thoughts of her running around {or crawling} showing off her diapered booty and not having to cover up. I am so ready to be done with all the layering of clothing. No more sweaters, long undies, socks, snow pants, boots, mittens, hats.. Off with it all I say. I'm ready for tank tops and feeling my hair gently swish against my back with the soft summer breeze. I'm ready for barefoot trips out to the clothesline and feeling the blades of fresh green grass poking up between my toes. {and Ell's diapers are needing the sunshine almost as bad as myself!} I look forward to cooking out and calling muddy worn out boys in just in time for dinner. I look forward to the Gemini birthdays {am I really going to be 25 this year?!} and the celebrations of our little Cancer's first birthday as well.

February has always been my least favorite month. And this year it's proved itself to be just that and then some. I am so ready for this month to come to a close. It's time to move forward, shine like the sun, and live the life I love. In just five short days March will be here, the green grass will start to slowly appear again, and this mama will be feeling rejuvenated. I am ready for this new month. A new start to an old life.

On the Other Side

Yesterday we were feeling the need for some freedom. I think we all needed some fresh air and I know that Papa Bear and I, being the Gemini's we are, were defiantly in need.{Did I mention that our biggest little is also a Gemini. Lots of good twins and bad twins running around our homestead.}We had the windows open in the house all day but it just wasn't enough so we decided to step out into the woods for bit with our littles.


We left the house at about 4:30 expecting a couple of hours of solid hiking/wandering time out among the snow covered trees. We always take the same country roads out to our nearest state park. Those roads are filled with memories from Matt's childhood, times we spent together as crazy teens, and now the many of times we have driven them with our van full of littles. There is a tree high up on a hill on a little piece of land that Matt's Grandfather used to farm that is marked with the names of a Native American and a soldier who both fought and died on the hill. Each time we drive by the boys start to talk about the battle.. and my mind instantly wanders to the time that we {before we were a couple} drove up that hill in our friends little truck. I was always the only gal along for the ride and it was always interesting to see what kind of mischief the boys would cause and just how much a lot of it scared the shit out of me.. And then just as we turn the bend there is a little well that Papa Bear and his Grandpa once got water from. I've heard the story a million times over and now when we reach the well we both look at each other and start to tell it--me usually putting a funky twist on it that leads to us both cracking up.


Yesterday as we were passing the well we stopped to watch a few white tailed deer running around the lake across the road. We were blessed with the presence of of many critters yesterday, big and small, and the boys thrived off of them. As we pulled away from watching the deer, turning the bend, and shortly after climbing our hill that we usually fly over to lose our stomachs this time we flew over to find that there was still two feet of snow sitting on the road. We decided to take the risk and see if we could push our way through in our minivan, and ummm, we couldn't. But it wasn't that same horrible oh no we're stuck kind of situation. This was more like we were pretty sure we were going to get stuck now lets make the best of it. And best of it we did. Papa Bear and I laughed as we were out trying to kick snow out of our path. We were in and out of the van 8 times, our two smallest littles passed out, and Dom looked at us so seriously as said "Okay, so if we can't make it the 9th time are we going to call someone?" But we were determined. Papa Bear put the pedal to the metal and practiced his race car driving skills and we pushed our way out of the drift. We'd made it out on the other side. Seems like we've been all over that making it out on the other side stuff lately. We make one helluva team.


By the time we got to the park the pines were slowly being swallowed by fog and darkness was creeping in. Even though we were walking along in the grayness it felt good. I felt free. I was at ease and could feel a huge weight lifted off my chest. {even if I had our smallest little attached in the front carry position} I need mother nature in all of her beauty more than I'd known. The boys ran ahead rolling around in the snow and getting wetter than wet in all of the slush while Papa Bear, and I {plus one} followed behind in their little footprints. We studied animal tracks and listened to the coyotes howling across the lake. It was a beautiful evening with my family. My family that I am so blessed to be a part of. This love that we share is big. We've had our share of struggles dating back to 2003 when our story started with two young {and crazy} teenage friends being drawn to one another like magnets but we always pull through. We've created and lived so much since then with many ups and downs. And it always seems as if the other side is brighter and more love filled than before. There are so many more good times around the bend and I look forward sharing them with my family. My big love.


Please excuse the pictureless post-I am in need of new camera batteries and I'm sooooo missing the capturing and creating! Soon!

Piece Of My Heart

Our home has been covered by a big storm cloud these past few days. Truths were told and lies pulled from the deep to be dissected over and over and over again. To be honest my last post makes me sick to my stomach. The last two actually. Or maybe everything dating back to January seventh.

While I want to write, I'm struggling. And this isn't the place where I can or should write right now. I have decided to take a break from the blog. A break for healing my soul. I will write in my small journal that rests under the head of my bed. The journal I haven't had to write in since July of 2009 when we lost our pregnancy and my grandpa all at once. It really should be black instead of yellow. It's filled with hurt. And with the way I'm feeling now it may just literally be filled by the time I'm finished with it.

I will be back. When is hard to say, but I do enjoy having this little space in the world to share our joys and plan to continue in the future when the joys aren't overshadowed by hurt. And most importantly when I can pull myself out of bed and be the mama that I should be {and hope to be again soon!} to my littles. I hate being so broken, so burned, and I wont be forever. But right now I am here in the now and what's going on here in the now is defiantly not blog worthy. It's not even fucking life worthy. So it will be tucked away in my journal and that will be that. 

Slow and Be

Chilly winds are blowing today. The two pines in my backyard are fiercely whipping around with a blur of crisp white snow being tangled through the branches. I can hear the wind gusting into the walls of our house, and the house ever so softly moaning with each blow. The temperature outside is well below freezing, and while I might be exaggerating the inside isn't feeling much warmer.  

We're forcasted to be hit with a big winter storm today into tomorrow. They are calling for anywhere between 14-18 inches for our area. And while I haven't always been a fan of winter, each year I find myself more at ease with the cold, white, blustery weather that is our home place during these long hard months. It's safe to say that I am excited for this winter storm heading our way. And I'm hoping that mother nature finds the relief she needs after dropping a fresh, deep, white blanket over our home towns.

Today we have our woolens on. Our smallest little is sitting in the rocker, wooden spoon in hand or mouth, buried underneath our heavy quilt, waiting for her mama to preheat the oven for cookie baking.

This mama is hoping that by doing some baking the inside of our home will warm up just a tad. I'm also hoping that Papa Bear can find some wood for us on his way home from work, and that he gets off early enough to travel slowly in the light hours and make his way here safely.

I just received a call from a dear friend letting me know that the boys will be dismissed early from school today, and our Cub Scouts pack meeting has been canceled for tonight. Sounds like it will be a nice night for cozying up fireside with the ones we love. What a perfect excuse to slow down and just be. And to that I say: Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.  


Just a smackerel will do for my little honey pooh.



Needs Be Met

Yesterday was the first day that I'd left the house without my smallest little in quite some time.

I needed to get groceries and I needed a time out. While I was preparing to leave I was in panic mode. I was in the middle of explaining the list of how to's to Papa Bear when he looked at me and said "Honey, this is our third child, I think I know what I'm doing." and then he followed that with "I will just put her upstairs and leave her to cry." You see, sometimes he can be quite the turd. And I might have been worried if it were any other man, or any other baby, but I know these two share a special connection. One that would not allow Papa Bear's heart to leave his gal crying anywhere. Especially on a different level of our home. And for that I am thankful.

I am grateful that I have this wonderful husband who knows that when our baby cries she has a need that needs be met. Weather she's hungry, poopy, sleepy, or just feeling the need for some closeness they are all valid. She can fully trust her mama and papa bear because she's never been left alone to cry it out and for that I believe our connection runs even deeper with out smallest little. We know her. We know what she needs by her different cries, and we pay attention to her demands because her happiness and security means the world to us. She's our little gal, and she deserves to be showered with nothing but love and kindness. {just the same as her brothers were before her.}

I am a bit embarrassed to admit that there were tears in my eyes when I left the house yesterday. Tears because I have only left my gal a few short times.. but also tears because I know that her papa bear is totally capable of loving and caring for her and we are so blessed to have him. Papa's who can recognize both the needs of his partner and his baby are few and far between, I think. We really lucked out. I am married to a wonderfully caring man. He's my best friend and the best papa that our littles could ask for.

And yesterday while I was driving I cranked my music and danced {as hard as one can dance while keeping their vehicle between the lines} because I was feeling free, the sun was shining bright, and for once I was alone. It felt nice, and I celebrated it to the fullest extent. And by the time I was pulling back into the driveway I was feeling excited to be one with my family again.. All it took was a little breather and I was rejuvenated. I walked into the house with two boys playing peacefully on the steps and one wee gal up in Papa's arms all lit up with smiles because mama was home and she was ready to nurse. And as I settled in the rocking chair, covering my gal with our quilt to cozy in for our nursing session, everything felt right in our world. I am blessed to be married to this wonderful papa of ours, and to be a mama to such amazing little littles. Life is so good.




Crunchify Three: Family Cloth

I have this terribly horrible issue of not wanting to feel like I have to do something. Having to do things that I may not feel up to doing at any particular time triggers me to rebel against whatever that thing may be. Part of me wants to say that it's my Gemini nature. But another fairly large part of me wants to say that it is because I attended public schooling.

Needless to say, that is why this third crunchify post has taken this poster so long to, um post.

{and now I've just opened a whole new can of worms for myself to digest. See: public schooling statement above.}

~ ~ ~

Family Cloth {almost}

When I told Papa Bear that I was writing these crunchify posts his first response was something along the lines of "Don't write about the wipes {insert crazy/nervous laugh here}" And so today, while trying to think of what crunchy thing I'd like to share, I kept thinking of said wipes, because well, it made it seem easy that I didn't even have to come up with the idea myself. So to that I say: Thanks honey for inspiring me. Please don't be too embarrassed. Love you. 

I googled family cloth looking for a simple definition to plug in here but didn't come up with much. I was also hoping to find some really cool stats on just how many trees are saved by using cloth wipes, and couldn't find any useful information for that either. So it looks like you'll be getting my full take on family cloth. Now the question is: Do you trust me? {insert crazy laughter here}

Really the idea isn't crazy. It's actually a very simple concept. Instead of wiping your lower region with toilet paper after using the restroom, you wipe with cloths. Easy huh? And then when you're cloths are running low you wash them, and reuse them. Again, and again, and again, and again. Reuse, reuse, reuse, reuse, and waalaa just like that there are no trees harmed for the wiping of your butt. Nice huh? I thought so too. Especially considering that about 27,000 trees are cut down daily for the use of sanitary products. Twenty-seven thousand in ONE day, wowza. Not only that, but many of these big tree plantations are using manufactured pesticides and fertilizers to grow these trees. And a ton of water on top of that. All that for fluffy white toilet paper. {that will shortly be, well um, stained brown and pitched} It is said that if each American family were to use one roll of recycled toilet paper annually it would save nearly 400,000 trees. But I imagine it is still quite the process to make recycled toilet papers, and that there is still a ton of water, etc, used in the process of doing so. Much more than the amount of water used for a family to launder their own wipes, I'm sure.

Now, let me describe my set up for you.

I have a cute little basket that sits on the shelf above my toilet for folded, clean wipes. The wipes that I use currently are just simple washcloths that I picked up at the Dollar General until we can afford to invest in some nice organic wipes. However, we are only wiping our bums with these wipes so really I could have just created them from old t-shirts and socks to save the extra $10 spent on the washcloths. I keep a trashcan under my bathroom sink {which is in reach from my toilet} for the dirty wipes. And when the can is full or the wipes are low, I wash. Usually with the diapers to save on an extra load.

The first time I heard of cloth wipes I was kind of taken back like whoa are people really doing this?? And then I thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if just I did it, and only for when I went number one, or the artist formally known as pee. So I made the switch. And then our midlittle made the switch because well, he often accompanies me in the bathroom, and often wants to do whatever it is that I am doing. And then his bigger brother followed suit because it just kind of became normal after that. So I started using them full time, since the boys were brave enough. Three months after we made the switch our smallest little was born and she too mostly uses cloth wipes. The only one in the family who hasn't completely made the switch yet is Papa Bear. He actually only makes the switch when he is out of toilet paper. {yes, he is still buying the junk!} However with him being the only one using the toilet paper, when it's out it's out for a while, because what kind of man is going to remember that he needs toilet paper before he actually needs toilet paper? Catch my drift?

I am happy to say that I have been mostly toilet paper free for 9 months. I say mostly because sometimes when you're out and about the moment arises that you need to wipe with something, right? And you can be sure that now when that moment does arise, and I complete my duties, I almost always throw my used toilet paper into someones trash can. Which sometimes leads to me having to pick used toilet paper back out of someones trash can too. Yucky. Because who wants to walk out of a restroom with their poopy toilet paper on display and most people might wonder why one would opt out of flushing toilet paper and may be a bit grossed out to find it while emptying their trash can, I'd think.

And with trying not to leak too much information here, you know tmi, or did I already cross that line with all my talk of poopy toilet paper? I want to add how much softer it is to wipe with cloth and how it doesn't ever tear and leave little remnants stuck to your skin. And, if you can have your set up near a sink I highly recommend it. It's so nice to have a dampened wipe should the moment arise when you may need one, just sayin'. 

Happy wiping!  

A Little Cooking

Today I awoke to a sweet gal who had one eye stuck shut. A brief moment of panic ensued until I returned with a wet wash rag. We got the gunk all cleaned out only to discover that her eye is indeed tinted with an all to familiar pinkish red color. And upon my midlittle stumbling into the bathroom for his usual morning potty session I noticed his eyes looked about the same, red and icky. So our only clear eyed little made his way onto the bus for school, while we spent a very mellow day here around the homestead.


A day that involved good spirits even if eyes were pink.

 

And resting those pink little eyes too.
  

Tonight my boys made their first ever meatloaf. Meatloaf because well, lets face it, you can basically add any amount of anything and it's going to turn out. And I wanted to leave it mostly up to them. After an afternoon of reading umteenmillion books, creating play dough cookie after play dough cookie, and making valentine hearts with arrows through them that turned into swords, umteenmillion swords to be exact I was feeling like being hands off. And my littles very much enjoyed being hands on, in, and gooed up while preparing their dinner. So we flowed.

I got out the ingredients they would need for the process and they got right down to business. It was so nice to see them so eager to create a dinner for our family. I watched as they carefully cracked each egg. Smiles stretching widely across their faces when they felt the sweet victory of having the complete shell in their hands, rather than bits and pieces in the bowl. They measured, they mixed and they packed the loaf into the pan. And while they waited for it to bake they helped me to make cornbread muffins. And to my surprise they were very skilled little batter pourers.


Tongues are for concentrating.

Papa Bear arrived home to one Delicious smelling house and two boys very eager to share their dinner creation. We gathered around our small table for our feast prepared by our two biggest littles and I couldn't help but smile.. Surely moments like this-a family of five gathered around a too small table, eating a meal prepared with love by two small littles-are what life is all about.


And right before we headed up to rest our heads upon our pillows for the night I snapped this picture. And it's just so telling..



Our biggest little with reading material in hand.
Our midlittle always rowdy and on the move.
Our smallest little with her big blue eyes planted on her big brothers.
And one mama filled with love while watching them from a distance.
Each one unique and each one mine.
Love. Love. Love. 

Veronica

I was very close with my grandma as a child. She was a kind hearted soul always so full of love. She was a mother to eight children, including my ma. And those eight children went on to enrich her life with many grandchildren. One being me, of course.

We lost my grandma when I was fourteen. At that point in my life I was detached from most of my family. My parents were newly divorced and I was struggling to make it out on the other side. I stopped frequent visits with my Grandma favoring hanging out with friends and causing trouble instead. In that short time my Grandma was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and began to slip away. I remember visiting her house once during her sickness bringing along a short-term high school boyfriend. She had already changed so much and her once strong body was growing weak and frail. It hurt me to see her that way. I didn't visit again until she was in the hospital and unable to communicate with me. I sat by the bed and held her hand thinking about nothing but the ache in my heart and the loss I was feeling. After she passed I slipped quickly from her visitation and funeral. The extreme loss I had felt during that time was too much, and I wanted out. Not only had I lost my family as one, living under the same roof, but now I'd lost my Grandma who I cared for so deeply. I was crushed.

I'd like to say that if I could go back and do it all over differently I would. But the past is the past and I believe that everything truly does happen for a reason. I believe that my Grandma understood and saw my troubles even if I never had the chance to explain myself to her.

Today when I think of Grandma my thoughts are only happy. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be able to visit her out on the farm, bring Papa Bear to meet her, and to have my littles know their Great Grandma. But instead she will live on through me and the memories I hold in my heart. And you can be sure that my boys know of their Great Grandma they never got to meet and just how wonderful a woman she was. And my sweet gal shares the same middle name as Grandma, Mae. She too will know of her greatness. They will know of all the walks we took to the creek. All of the Eggs we colored each Easter. The way Grandma sang such sweet lullabies. How she almost always allowed us to play taste test even if we were making a disaster of her kitchen in the process, and even making each other sick at times. All of it, I want to share it with them.

I often like to think of how I would spend my time with Grandma now, as a mother myself.  Like I said before, she had eight children. Eight children with mostly a year or two in between each, and even less than a year between a couple, talk about a supermama! I would love to hear her take on motherhood. The birth stories of my ma, aunts, and uncles. What her life was like with her littles.. The love story between her and my grandpa. I'd love to go out and spend time with her in the garden and learn from her. Or to wander around the antique shops swapping stories about motherhood and life. I'd love to hear stories of my great-grandparents that I never met, and what they did in raising Grandma, that made her just so special.

Today though, I am happy knowing that if my Grandma were here she would be happy. Today I am wearing my Grandma's old sweatshirt, a Green Bay Packer's shirt to be exact. You see my grandma was born and raised on a dairy farm in Wisconsin. She and Grandpa started a family there. They were Packers fans. And today, while they rest in peace with one another, their headstone reads "Green Bay Packer Backers." And I sit here in Grandma's shirt smiling because I know that she and Grandpa are together again looking down on their earth-side family and celebrating the days big win.

She's my grandma and she was a grand grandma at that. My Grandma Ronnie.



..and this little gal looks just as good in green and gold as her great grandma once did.
She's my little Green Bay Packer Backer.  



Informed Decisions

Today I want to write about what's on my mind.

This blog post may be a controversial one. And I'm not writing it to heat things up or start a debate. I am writing it for parents out there who may want to become more informed. And mostly, I am writing it for my children. So that one day, when and if they read this blog, they will understand how and why they were vaccinated.

I have close friends who choose to fully vaccinate their children. I have friends who selectively vaccinate. And then I also have friends that choose to forgo all vaccinations. I do not judge. Each parent has a reason for the decision they make and I support those decisions. What's best for one fellow might not be best for the next. Everyone is different. It's time to start fully embracing these differences.

~ ~ ~

The other day a dear friend wrote in her blog about mother circles. You can find the article here. I would love to put something like this together in our area with all of the wonderful mamas I know.. but for the time being I am sharing because the term Mamaste hasn't been far from my thoughts since I read the article. I LOVE LOVE LOVE it.

Mamaste-- "the mother in me recognizes and honors the mother in you.”  There are so many *mother wars* going on out there. Natural Birth vs. medicated. Breast fed vs. bottle fed. Vaccinating vs. not vaccinating. It's just silly and I think it's time we all start loving one another and supporting each others journeys no matter how they differ. Like I said before, this mamahood is a crazy wild ride. So lets love one another through the struggles and the triumphs on this journey. Grab another mama by the hand and let her know how wonderful a job you think she's doing because as mothers we all know that our duties often go unappreciated or unnoticed, and well, lets help to lift one anothers spirits. Shine your light on another mama in hopes that she may shine brighter. I think we'd be amazed at how fast the love would spread.

~ ~ ~

I want to share parts of our vaccinating journey. Because for the informed the decisions can be extremely nerve wracking. And well, maybe just maybe by sharing our journey it will help a fellow mama (or papa) to further investigate, or to feel better about the decision they are making.

Let me start by saying that we delay and selectively vaccinate. Our biggest little was delayed and selectively vaccinated due to a reaction he had to his first set of vaccinations at two months old-the Prevnar vaccine to be exact. Our midlittle has been fully vaccinated up to this point because ignorance was bliss. And now, I've decided that we will selectively vaccinate our smallest little.

Yesterday she was vaccinated for Diphtheria, Tetanus, and Pertussis with the DTaP vaccine. This is the vaccine that scares me most, but I feel strongly that she receive it for the protection it may or may not provide against Pertussis. (I say may or may not because it seems that many vaccinated children are coming down with this disease as well as the unvaxed. I am aware of this fact.) If it were possible I would have opted out of the Diphtheria and Tetanus because Diphtheria is waaaaay uncommon and Tetanus isn't even a concern in infants, but as it turns out they don't manufacture a vaccine for Pertussis alone. They do have single Diphtheria vaccines and same goes for Tetanus but without the two together you wont find a Pertussis vaccine.

There are three brands of  the DTaP vaccine used today. The Dapatacel brand by Sanofi Pasteur, the Tripedia also by Sanofi, and the Infanrix brand by GlaxoSmithKline. The ingredients in each of these three brands differ. For instance the Daptacel brand contains more aluminum than the Tripedia brand, but the Tripedia contains mercury where the Daptacel doesn't. And the Infanrix contains higher levels of aluminum than the other two put together. (and that's not the only nasty ingredient in these vaccines!) Two of the three (T & I) use cow tissue extract in the making and culturing of the vaccine. The Daptacel also contains less than half the quantity of the Pertussis than the other two options, which is thought to be safer, because the Pertussis is thought to have been linked to the most side effects. Side effects that can range from diabetes, seizures, heart inflammation, Guillain-Barre syndrome, brain damage, and many many more.

There are also vaccine cocktails out there to reduce the amount of injections ones baby or child would undergo by combining the DTaP, Hep B, and Polio into one vaccine. If this is the route you should choose due to concerns over the amount of injections your child will receive then you should know that there are two options for the DTaP vaccine out there that combine these other two vaccines. One being the Pediarix (GlaxoSmithKline) and the other being Pentacel (Sanofi Pasteur) In the Pediarix the steps in creating the vaccine are very similar as if they were created separately but the Pentacel is a bit more controversial and was only approved for use in the Untied States within the past seven or so years. The product inserts don't offer any information as to how the vaccine for the Pentacel is created, and the DTaP and Polio components in this brand come from another combo vaccine called Quadracel that hasn't yet been approved for use within the States. I've found, from speaking with the local health departments, and our family doctor that one of these two vaccines is what is likely to be administered to your child unless you request otherwise.

With all that being said our smallest little received the Daptacel yesterday.(we've decided to delay the Polio and Hep B until we feel she is ready) I am also always sure to get the lot number and the expiration date for each and every vaccine she receives. I want to know what's going into my gals body. And you can be sure that even through all of this research and edumacting I've done myself that when I was rocking her to sleep I would check every few minutes to make sure that she was still breathing, and um yeah, I didn't sleep much last night. Call me a worry wart if you will, but the bliss from the ignorance is forever gone. And while I am happier for knowing what I know, it does make it much more real and scary being over on the informed side of things.

I am thankful for my knowledge though because if I hadn't been informed our smallest little would have received the Haemophilus Influenzae Type B, Pneumococcal, DTaP, Rotavirus, flu and Polio all in one day. Wowza, doesn't that seem like a lot for a little body to handle? I think, until we can get some better options for safer vaccines out there, that we as parents, grandparents, caregivers, nurses, and doctors need to become better informed when it comes to the health of our children. We need to make sure that our children are only receiving the best of these vaccine options out there. Because even if we choose to follow the strict vaccine schedule set by the American Academy of Pediatrics we should be using the best of the best (or should I say worst?) to do so. And we need to realize just how much this schedule has changed through out the years. I've run across parents who will often say "Well I got all these vaccines as a child and I turned out okay." And the truth of the matter is that you actually didn't receive these same vaccines and you didn't nearly receive the quantity that they are recommending today. Find the time to enlighten yourself, and you may be surprised at the things you will learn. And, if you're anything like me you may even feel some guilt over the vaccines/schedules you've used in the past but the past is just that and we can only go forward from here.

The main thing that I want to point out is that we have choices. If you are uncomfortable with any and/or all of the vaccines but want your children to attend public schooling there ARE choices. If you wish for your child to receive all of the vaccines but don't like the time line in which they are given YOU have choices. If you wish to only give certain vaccines at certain times you can do that to. YOU are the parent. This is YOUR child. Become informed and do the best for them that you can. I was often worried about the reactions I'd get because of my choices, but I've gotten nothing from the ones who matter most but positive feedback. Our Doctor was so happy that I decided to quiz him and get a feel for just exactly how he feels about vaccines. He was happy that I cared so deeply for my children that I would do this research and follow my heart when it comes to the choices I make for them. The nurses at the health department were more than happy to follow along with my wishes and treated me with nothing but kindness. More kindness actually than I was treated with back when ignorance was my bliss. So, if you feel the same way I feel, or are at all unsure about vaccines today don't be afraid to dig deeper, become informed, and share that information with the ones who matter most when it comes to your child's health. 

Mamaste.



Helpful books on my journey to becoming informed:
Vaccinations A Thoughtful Parents Guide by Aviva Jill Romm
Childhood Vaccinations by Lauren Feder
The Vaccine Book by Robert W. Sears

To the Moon and Back

We are here. Half a year old. The past six months have slipped by quicker than quick. I've tucked so many memories from this sweet time that we've shared together in my heart for safe keeping.

Her grand entrance into the world was already six months ago. I remember every bit and piece of that day like it was yesterday. It was filled with magic. I've never connected so strongly with my body, Papa Bear, the universe, and of course our sweet babe. We are family, we are one, and our gal completes us.

And speaking of being one. She's half way there.

It sounds so cliche to say that they grow too quickly. But really, they do. I've had two littles reach the six month mark before, and before I knew it came one year, two years, three years, four years, five years, and six. This mamahood thing is a wild ride. A fast one at that. And I'm hanging on tight.

At six months old our smallest little has one little tooth and is working on a second. You'll often find her perched on my left hip, it's her favorite place to be. She is a huge fan of her big brothers, and lights up when they come near. She enjoys blowing raspberries and splashing in the bathtub. She loves sleeping, but only if mama is too, she's no napper. Her favorite toys are her Haba teething toy and her crinkle book. She loves animals and you can be sure if there's one in the room her eyes are glued to it's every move, especially Banjo. And it's hard to say who's more excited when Papa Bear walks in the door, her or the dog. Most of all though she loves to cuddle and nurse with her mama, and that certain mama happily obliges, because as it turns out I love to cuddle and nurse her too.

Happy six months, baby! We love you to the moon and back.



A special message from your brothers on your 6 month day.
"You're the best baby and I love you 'cause you're cute." -Dominic
"I love you like a sweetie" -Owyn



 

Taste Test

Our gal ate!


Well sort of anyways. Papa Bear and I were discussing when the best time to start solids would be, and well, we both got a wild hair up our butts and the moment just felt right so we went for it. We smashed up a little bit of avocado on our smallest littles highchair tray and set a spoon next to it. We figured if she could get the avocado to her mouth with or without the spoon it would be her first solid food and that would be that.


At first she rubbed her hands around in green goo and got a feel for it's texture. Then she did some finger lickin'. And finally she picked up her spoon and did a bit of drumming before she decided to rub it around in the tasty green goo. And to her surprise it stuck.

She licked her spoon and played mostly. She did get a good taste and feel for the avocado but I'm not sure how much actually made it's way into her honey pot. {honey pot being the other name for her belly thanks to Papa} But that's okay, actually just how we expected it to go. Our gals learning.

She tasted and played. And then when she was done she put her spoon down and let us know. Which made me feel even more sure that the way we started solids was just right for her. She tasted as much as she wanted and then she knew when she was ready to be done and she quit. It was all on her terms and we liked letting her have a say so.

Say so she did. Pretty loudly too actually. Then she waited patiently while mama got a rag to wash her face up. That she did not enjoy. The first of many face washes to come. Her big brothers still don't like having their faces washed up, so I figured she'd be the same.

So we took the big leap into solid foods. Even if we don't get them in every day we will continue to go with her flow and introduce her to new tastes and textures as she's ready. And in the meantime the girl is still crazy over her milks. So crazy in fact that today she actually signed for them when Papa was holding her. {we swear we saw it. And if not it sure as heck looked like it!} At nearly a half a year the gal knows what she wants and I swell with pride.