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Name:Andrea
Location:Indiana, United States

Wife to a man, mom to two daughters, owner of two cats, learner, teacher, web surfer, reader, Sinophile...

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Happy Year of the Dog

Today was Chinese New Year (or Spring Festival, as they traditionally call it), and we have been partying hard! We had parties last night and tonight to attend. I dressed both kids up in traditional Chinese outfits (I've got to post some pictures!). Aislinn was in a pink two-piece that was Audrey's when she was a baby, and Audrey wore a one-piece qipao for the first time...she looked like such a big girl, even with the cute pigtails I put in her hair. Last night was a pitch-in with a large group we've been a part of. That was the best: home-cooked REAL Chinese food, including my favorite, and the traditional New Year's dish...boiled dumplings. MMMM....dipped in a sauce of red rice vinegar, soy sauce, and spicy sesame oil. Tonight was a bigger party, but a little less fun because 1) we don't know as many people there (Leo likes to go mainly to network for work) and 2) the food is catered by a local Chinese restaurant, which means, NO BIG DEAL. There were dumplings again, but they were nowhere as good as last night's.

At the end of both evenings, all the kids were called up to the front where the oldest granny present had the privilege of presenting each kid with a hongbao, a red envelope with "lucky" money inside. Audrey always gets one or two extra hongbao from other adults that know us, and this year she made out like a bandit...$8.00! We even forgot to give our own kids hongbao this year, but Audrey didn't think to ask about it, and is now so rich anyway I can't see that it mattered much.

If we were in China, Leo would probably not work for at least two whole weeks. Two weeks from now is Yuanxiao Jie, or the Lantern Festival, which concludes the new year's celebration. It is celebrated by eating a soup of yuanxiao, sesame paste dumplings. You gag, I'm sure, at reading that, but trust me: yuanxiao are a sweet treat YOU all are missing out on. If you're curious, you can find frozen ones that aren't half bad at most Chinese grocery stores. And if you're not curious, that's OK...that much more for the rest of us.

Friday, January 27, 2006

I don't know which is worse...

...that I folded an entire basket of laundry today before I realized I'd folded a basket of clothes that had not yet been washed...

...or that I am actually admitting that here.

At least I didn't put them away and pretend they were clean. They are in the washer right now, skipping ahead of another load that was ready to go in (why? I don't know. With my luck I'll forget the load that got skipped is still dirty and try to fold them too.)

Dooce's big secret

Is ANYBODY besides me trying ridiculously hard to figure out what Heather's big secret is?

I'm betting it's a book deal (I'm full of predictions lately, aren't I?). That would explain the lawyer and the references to multiple trips that will be taken later in the year.

Remember, you heard it here first.

Stuff Portrait Friday: Secret Eye Toys

Yep, after a long hiatus, I'm back to participating in Stuff Portrait Friday. OK, it's not really secret eye toys. The "stuff" for this SPD is a your secret, your toys, and your eyes. I thought Secret Eye Toys sounded more fun. Lets just hope it doesn't bring out the pervs, because it sounds suspiciously like something naughty the more I think about it.

Anyway...my secret. It's not really my secret, it's Audrey's. Or she thought it was.



I would never known she was back there, she was so quiet, except for her feet sticking out. Turned out she'd decided, voluntarily, to take a nap there. I think this picture may be my secret after all because she didn't know I took it, but I can use it against her when she tries to make excuses like, "I can only fall asleep in my bed!" or "I don't take naps anymore, I'm too big!"

My toy:



It's no iPod. But I'm having fun with it anyway.

And my eyes:



I feel like I cheated a little on this one, because my eyes certainly do not look like this every day. In fact, they've only looked like this once in my life, the day this picture was taken. This is from my wedding portrait that hangs in my living room, which I think you can see in its entirety somewhere else on this blog, but I'm too lazy to find that link now (I think it was another SPF).

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Is it bad...?

...that I'm sitting here watching Oprah tear James Frey to shreds live, listening to the audience murmur in disbelief, and enjoying it?

The pathetic thing is that he will undoubtedly make yet more money on his book from all the publicity. I have been tempted to pick it up in Borders, but if I do read it, I will check it out from the library. I won't be paying money for it (and that's also why I'm not including a link to amazon.com linking to it).

I have never seen Oprah this pissed off at one of her guests before! I can't imagine what posessed him to even agree to be on the show. Did she trick him and make him think she was still going to defend him?

(Update: Partial video can be found here; I'm assuming it's just partial...I didn't actually watch it to see.)

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Calling my elected official

Today I called the Indiana state attorney general. He is considering issuing a cease and desist order against Jennifer Williams. I called and spoke to one of his staff to let him know that I was opposed to the cease and desist order, and that a letter would be forthcoming. The staffer seemed well-acquainted with the case; I think others have already been calling.

I was planning on writing the letter already, but when I woke up this morning I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that made it hard to eat. The fear was back. This time it was not just the fear that homebirth families could lose one of their most valued midwives, but also the fear that I was going to have to make a phone call. I don't know if I've mentioned it here before, but I have something of a phobia with phones. I make Leo call for pizza. I'm definitely not a phone chatter; I only call friends or family for a specific reason, and then only if I know I'm not going to seem them sooner. And call someone of importance to make such an urgent request? Necessary, but heart-freezing. Stomach-curdling. Intestine-knotting.

But I did it. I had to write out exactly what I was planning to say, and I still managed to stumble on my words a little bit. But I got it done, and when I hung up, I laughed because it was so easy, and because it was DONE.

There is talk that the governor is interested in this case and may be sympathetic. Maybe I'll call his office tomorrow.

Monday, January 23, 2006

mp3 player; and Shopping

Yesterday I finally started playing with the mp3 player I got for Christmas. (I actually asked Leo for an iPod, figuring I'd settle for a Shuffle, but I'm glad that in the end he got me a cheaper, but more versatile, less-known brand. With my Sansa SanDisk, I can actually CHOOSE the song(s) I want to listen to...imagine!). I think I put off messing around with it because, well...this is really embarrassing, but I think I'm getting old. Technology is starting to intimidate me. I did ask for the thing, so it's not too intimidating yet, but still. Complicating the issue is the fact that, with kids and constant interruptions, I just don't have the time to sit down and mess around with a digital toy for hours on end to learn how to use it, the way I used to. Anyway, yesterday Audrey and Leo were gone for a few hours, so I sat down while Aislinn napped to figure it out. I did get interrupted (several times), but I was still messing with it at bedtime.

After experimenting with putting a Norah Jones song I already have on CD on it, I decided to go for the big cahuna (whatever that means) and download an mp3 from the internet and figure out how to transfer it to the Sansa. My first official download? True Blue, Madonna.

You're about to learn what a conformist loser I was in high school.

I decided that the first playlist I wanted to compose would be favorites from when I was in high school, stuff that would send everyone out to the dance floor. Because all I ever listened to, all I KNEW, was pop music. I had never heard of real punk or alternative bands. I grew up in a pretty small town in the middle of nowhere. Thirty miles away, in a town maybe thrice the sizxe of mine, but also more or less in the middle of nowhere, my future camp buddy and college roommate (hi Jur!) somehow somehow managed actually to hear of even CHRISTIAN alternative music, let alone stuff like the Pixies (they were alternative, right?? see what a music nerd I am?). I guess thirty miles closer to Indianapolis makes a difference. Anyway, I was in my own little world of Michael Jackson, Def Leppard, and Debbie Gibson. New Kids on the Block Ruled. So they are what I consider my oldies, my nostalgia music.

I am still working on my 80s playlist. It only has five songs actually downloaded so far (but I have a list of others I plan to get).

Do you really want to know how boring I was (am!)?
  • True Blue, Madonna
  • You Give Love a Bad Name, Bon Jovi
  • Pour Some Sugar On Me, Def Leppard
  • Out Of The Blue, Debbie Gibson*
  • Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Cyndi Lauper

*I actually sang this song my senior year in the high school talent show. I dressed in a denim "bubble" skirt and blue Lycra leggings. I was totally a Debbie Gibson wannabe. Sad but true.

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I got the entire afternoon AND evening OFF to go SHOPPING today!!! Of course, the evening part was spent at Borders, predictably, but it was awesome.

First I hit Target. I'm with Kalki. Target rocks. I actually have to drive 20 minutes and two towns north to get to the nearest one, so Kalki in Redneck Valley actually has it better than I do. But it's probably a good thing, because I do spend way too much money when I go there. Today? Spring jackets for both girls, three spring outfits for Audrey, clothes for me, a new purse and billfold, and two new lipsticks (I'm living dangerously and trying something other than the generic rose color I usually use). All this totalled...um...ummmm...I really don't want to say. It was not really an OBSCENE amount of money, but you could say it was fairly indecent. Especially since when I left Target, I went to the mall and got a few more things at B. Moss (but they were having an awesome sale, and I scored three sweaters for the crazy price of $20).

Back to Target. I made a couple of exciting discoveries.

1. Did you know you can buy purses with LIGHTS in them? How cool is THAT? Trying to find that pen in the bottom of your purse? No problem, just click on the light, and you'll find it twice as fast. Target had probably 8-10 of these to choose from. Unfortunately, none of them fit my specifications (small, fairly neutral, and non-metallic). So I have to be satisfied with a lightless purse at least for a couple more years (yeah, I don't update my purse very often!)

2. Target carries lots of girls' pants with adjustable waists. They are like those maternity pants that have the adjustable elastic buttoned into the waistband, which I thought was amazing just for MATERNITY pants...but girls' pants...! Audrey is a skinny Minnie and has virtually no butt, even for a 5-year-old. She may well be the only child with a concave bottom (and she may well kill me some day for writing that). Pants that fit her in length tend to fall off her waist. So these pants are quite a find for us.

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I've been listening to my same five songs for about a half hour now, and even though I'm enjoying the stereo right-ear to left-ear opening riff of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, I'm ready to add some more tunes. Probably something like Mickey by Toni Basil or You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC. What???

Saturday, January 21, 2006

See my 15 minutes of fame, in motion

http://www.wthr.com/Global/category.asp?C=23903

It's about halfway down the page, in the middle column, the section that reads Eyewitness News Videos. Click on the one that says "Midwife Rally". You have to sit through a 10-second ad (sorry), then about 20 seconds into the clip, there are Aislinn and I (Leo is standing behind us). There are also glimpses of us in a couple of other places (look for Aislinn's red balloon that says "Born at Home").

I don't know how long the clip will be available at that site, though a friend has recorded it for me on DVD (thanks Jur!), so I may post it here later if I figure out the technicalities.

Friday, January 20, 2006

I've won a Major Award

The BAIB (Blogging At Its Best) Award, from Susie. Thanks, Susie!

Rally at the courthouse

This morning Leo and I dropped Audrey off at kindergarten, then headed to the courthouse in the nearby county where the midwife being prosecuted would be formally charged. My stomach was churning with tension, and I could barely choke down the fast food we bought to eat on our way. I'm not sure why this recent issue has brought up such strong emotion in me. Sure, I believe in it, but this is not just anger, it's fear. Yes, I'm afraid. I'm afraid for myself and other families, that we may not be able to choose the kind of births we want if things keep rolling this way.

We arrived a bit after 8 a.m., and other supporters were already gathering. Last week, on just a couple of days' notice, about 40 supporters gathered, including children. Today there were around 150. Many held signs or banners carrying slogans such as "We love midwives", "Stop the witchhunt", and "Legislation, not prosecution." There were many references to State Bill 1237, which would allow for the licensure of midwives. If this bill had been passed either of the two other times it has faced the statehouse, Jennifer would not be in this mess.

I saw news trucks for two local stations, the CBS and ABC affiliates.

I saw several familiar faces, some I had not seen for a long time. There were lots of greetings and hugs. We milled around for a while, then people started walking with their signs around the courthouse block. Finally around 8:30, I suggested to my friend Q, a radical unassisted-birther who has been to political rallies of many kinds, that we start chanting.

"What do you think we should do?" she asked.

"Maybe something simple, like 'What do we want? Drop the charges! When do we want it? Now!'"

"Ok, you start it with me," and she explained quickly to a few others standing nearby what we were going to do.

Everyone quickly took up the chant. "What do we want?" "Drop the charges!" "When do we want it?" "NOW!" We stood near the courthouse for a while, and then started circling again. Finally we moved towards Jennifer's attorney's office, still keeping up the chorus. "What do we want?" "Drop the charges!" "When do we want it?" "NOW!" A few minutes later, when Jennifer emerged, a huge cheer of support swelled up. I took up a new chant. "We support Jennifer! We support Jennifer! We support Jennifer!" We followed her back to the steps of the courthouse, still chanting our support. When she finally went inside, several people went in with her. Some, including Leo, actually went into the courtroom to hear the proceedings, which took less than 15 minutes, the mere formality of officially charging her with practicing medicine and midwifery without a license. While the rest of us waited outside, supporters took a break from chanting. Some sat on the steps and nursed their babies. I got the stroller out of the van for Aislinn and gave her some Cheerios and banana. She had not had breakfast yet, having been yanked out of bed at the ungodly hour of 7:00.

Later, Jennifer emerged amidst more cheers. We began circling the courthouse once again, this time with Jennifer joining us. When we marched near the main road, a busy state highway, we were thrilled to hear honks of support for us by passing cars. There were also, of course, the toots of passing semis, who undoubtedly knew nothing of what we were doing, but any attention we could get for our cause was good.

Later we decided to march down to the city center, an old-fashioned round-about. As we marched, a reporter from the NBC affiliate showed up, following after us. We slowed then stopped so she could interview Jennifer, then continued marching. The reporter looked right at me as we walked by and asked, "Can we talk to you?" Oh my gosh, I'm going to be on TV. Keep calm, Andrea, keep calm. Think about your message, think about what you want to get across.

I hope I did that. The reporter, Kris Kirschner, seemed interested and sympathetic. Someone also thrust a press packet into her hands, so whatever I said that may not have been clear enough will at least get covered in that.

Then it was time to go. Her next hearing is March 10, but I believe there is a statehouse rally scheduled before then. Expect to hear from me.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

I've been tagged with the Meme of Four

And it is one that sounds fun!

Sorry, Thomas J. , that it's taken me so long...I just was over at your place today to notice my tagged-ness. Also, I have to complain about whatever it is you've done to make it impossible to just copy and paste the questions from your blog!

At any rate...

Four jobs they couldn't pay me enough to do:

  1. Shovel human excrement from public toilets in China
  2. Sell tickets as a conductor on the no-room-to-even-breathe buses in China
  3. Mine coal in West Virginia
  4. Embalm dead human bodies

Four movies I used to love and watched over and over to the point that now I have them memorized and the prospect of watching them again causes my eyeballs to bleed:

  1. Chances Are
  2. Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
  3. Dances With Wolves
  4. A lot of movies could go in fourth place here, but I'm going to go with...Speed

Four movies I loved when I saw them in the theater but don't dare watch again for fear they won't hold up:
  1. Only one in this category: There's Something About Mary

Four places in the United States I've always thanked God I don't live even when I was living in a really small rathole in Indiana:

  1. Mississippi
  2. Mississippi
  3. Mississippi
  4. Louisiana

Four places I would like to visit on an extended vacation:

  1. Ireland
  2. Australia
  3. Italy
  4. India

Four TV shows I am strangely tempted to watch but have so far resisted:

  1. Desperate Housewives
  2. Sex in the City
  3. Martha Live
  4. Lost

Four websites that aren't on my blogroll that I visit daily: Okay, I don't have a true blogroll, and the links on my sidebar are sadly in need of updating. So this one is actually easy.

  1. KLOG: the blog of a funny gal with a cute haircut with highlights who lives in Redneck Valley and is in looooooove with John Stamos
  2. Random and Odd: home of Stuff Portrait Friday (in which I have been extremely delinquent lately...sorry Kristine!)
  3. My college roomate's blog, but I can't send you there (sorry Jur!) because if I connect people in my real world with people in my blog world...well, it's kind of like in Back to the Future, where your past and future selves aren't allowed to see each other or else it will mess stuff up. Same thing.
  4. Debutaunt: my new find! Inspiring blog of a woman with leukemia. And she gives fantastic daily assignments.

Four foods I don't really like and can't understand why I eat them but I eat them anyway and feel bad about it afterwards: Sorry, I have to change this one a bit. There is little that I don't like, and if I don't like something, I generally don't eat it. It's easy that way when I'm the main cook. So I'm just going to put four of the few things that I truly detest.

  1. Canned beets
  2. Olives, any kind or color
  3. Chicken feet (sounds obvious, but they are a favorite of my husband)
  4. Pigs feet (ditto)

Four albums I never listen to anymore but can't bring myself to trade in at Tower Records: Oh, some of these are really going to make me cringe.

  1. Shania Twain, Come on Over
  2. Art Garfunkel, Garfunkel (Just goes to show you, a beautiful voice is nothing without great lyrics. Art was a goner when he and Paul Simon split.)
  3. Weird Al Yankovic, In 3-D
  4. Billy Joel, that live concern in Russia that looks like it's spelled KOHUEPT. (I'm a big BJ fan, but I have both of his greatest hits CDs. They're enough, really.)

Four places I'd rather be but sadly won't any time soon.

  1. Beijing
  2. Torino, Italy (I would love to see the Olympics someday. Maybe Beijing in 2008!)
  3. Cedar Campus, Michigan (yes, even in the winter)
  4. Borders (not soon enough, anyway)


I'm not going to tag anyone; feel free to consider yourself tagged if it sounds fun!

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Prediction

I'm sitting here watching Oprah, listening to her and her friend Gayle King interview/interrogate the chick from the Mystery Cruise (her new husband disappeared amidst suspicious circumstances.)

My only question? Why is Gayle King on this show? I know she's O's BFF, but still.

Here's what I think: I think this is Gayle's "audition" to take Oprah's place when O retires in the next few years. Perhaps we'll even see Gayle "subbing" for Oprah now and then pretty soon.

So far, I'm not convinced this would be a great thing.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Having a baby at home

Because you're likely to be reading more posts about the midwife being prosecuted here in the near future, I want to explain my feelings and philosophies about birth in general and birth at home specifically.

I'm certainly aware that people unfamiliar with midwives and the homebirth movement may have some preconceived ideas about them. When I first told people I was planning to give birth at home, I was asked lots of questions like, "Is that even legal?", "Isn't that dangerous?", and "Why would you want to do that?"

The first one is easy. Yes, it's actually legal in all 50 states. That doesn't mean there aren't people that don't try to harass families who choose it. Plenty of doctors and "well-meaning" (read: nosy) neighbors have tried to turn people into the authorities because, well, those crazy people must be breaking the law and endangering their child!

Which brings me to the second question: Is it safe? The short answer is YES. Oh, you don't believe me? Well, that's OK. I understand. There was a time I would not have believed me either. So let me tell you why it's safe.

Statistically speaking, though it might be hard to believe, homebirths have far better outcomes and lower infant and mother mortality rates than hospitals. Part of the reason is that midwives rarely take on high risk patients, but the biggest reason is, midwives understand and respect birth in a way that the medical profession, for the most part, no longer does. Historically, birth was a rite of passage, a family and social event that was celebrated with joy. Today, it has been reduced to a medical event that doctors would have us believe could not happen safely if they were not there for it (never mind that doctors only started regularly attending births in the last 100 years). Now, I have no problem with doctors attending births, or with women who prefer to have a doctor present at their birth. I think birth should also be as positive an experience as possible for every woman, and if that means getting your epidural, then go for it! But consider this fact: among developed nations, the United States ranks something like 17 in infant mortality rates. Safe? The nations that rank near the top, mostly European, all have a couple of things in common: they utilize midwives far more often than we Americans do, and they have a much higher incidence of homebirth. They also have a far lower C-section rate than our miserable and shocking 25%.

There are lots of other issues I have with doctor-attended hospital births, like an OB's itch to DO something, let's quit fooling around and waiting, let's get in there and get that baby out! It's Friday, I'm going on vacation next week. Interested in being induced? Great, I've got something you'll love: Pitocin. It will give you contractions that will make you wish you'd never had that extra glass of wine that led to that night of hanky-panky with your husband, which led to this child being conceived, contractions that come right on top of the other without giving you a break, but that's ok. It will get the baby out faster. And if Pitocin doesn't suit you, I've got some Cytotec, which will do the same thing AND will increase your risk of uterine rupture, never mind that the FDA has not actually approved it for this use. Oh, you really need something for the pain now, don't you? Yeah, you natural birthers don't really know what you're getting yourselves into, I know. Yeah, inducing doesn't help much, I know, but anyway, let's just get you hooked up to that epidural now, shall we? There...better? Good. Now, it's almost time to push. What? You can't feel where to push? Well, right where my hand is...oh, of course, you can't feel anything because you have that epidural. Well, do the best you can....well, this just isn't working, we're going to up the Pitocin. Gee, this still isn't working. If the head was further down, I might be able to try forceps or vacuum extraction, but it's just too far up there. I'm afraid we're going to have to do a C-section....(later) Here's your baby! Unfortunately, she has a fever, which is PROBABLY related to the epidural you got, but just in case, we're going to have to take her to the NICU and keep her under observation for a couple of days....(later) I'm so sorry about that staph infection!

(DEEP BREATH)

OK, Andrea here, back again. Now...I know that among my small readership, you've mostly had hospital births that you probably feel good about. I in no way want to detract from that. The above was exaggerated SLIGHTLY to make my point that these are all things that can and often do happen in hospitals (doubt me? Watch A Baby Story or any of the other childbirth reality shows on TLC. How many of them turn out at least a bit like the above?). Homebirths attended by midwives do not have the above elements. Midwives are willing to wait for a slow baby. If they induce, it's only at the client's request, and only using fairly natural methods (though I have some opinions even about those, having endured them!). My midwives couldn't give me drugs or an epidural, that's true, but they did offer their constant presence and support, as well as practical ways to ease and get through the pain (how many women in hospitals have a nurse that stays with them for the whole birth, let alone the doctor?). Since I wouldn't get an epidural at home, I certainly would know if my baby's fever was something to worry about, and they would never have had to endure the isolation of the NICU without being certain it was for a good reason. And of course, who ever heard of anyong getting a staph infection in their own home?

Some of you may be feeling defensive at this point. Please don't. I want you to remember that I'm explaining why I chose homebirth, not trying to convince you that YOU are wrong to choose a hospital birth.

Which brings me to the third question: Why would I want to have my baby at home? I gave my reasons back when I posted Audrey's birth story. Here's that portion of it:

Even before I was pregnant, I knew I did not want a traditional hospital birth. I did not always feel this way; I grew up never knowing that there were women who had there babies at home with a midwife, and I always assumed I'd have my babies in a hospital, like my mom, and my grandma. It all started with a project for a graduate class. Our group decided to do a web page on pregnancy, with links to helpful websites. One site we included was for a birth plan, and I remember thinking, this is a neat idea, but why would people worry about some of this stuff? Who cares if I can walk around during labor? Won't I be in a lot of pain? And do I really have a choice if I get an episiotomy or not? Doesn't everyone get them? So I got curious.

A few months later, in April of 1999, Leo and I decided to start trying to get pregnant. As I always do when I'm really interested in something, I obsessed about it and got all the information I could, not only about trying to conceive, but also on pregnancy and childbirth. I worked in a public library at the time, and stumbled onto Barbara Harper's book and video, Gentle Birth Choices, which focused a great deal on waterbirth. I wondered if I might find a hospital around my area that would do a waterbirth. A birth story I read about described a woman's ordeal after a C-section she didn't want, even after trying to have a natural childbirth in a hospital, due to too many unnecessary interventions, and I realized that even if a hospital seemed to promise a chance at natural childbirth, it might not happen. The reading I had done had convinced me that homebirth was safe, and I just did not want to deal with following some hospital's "rules" (I didn't want an IV; I didn't want the baby taken from me at all; I definitely wanted a waterbirth). I decided then and there that I was going to pursue a home waterbirth with a midwife, if I could possibly find a midwife. I talked with Leo, and was relieved when he said he had no problem with my plans. He was born at home himself, so it was not a strange idea to him.


Ultimately, I believe childbirth is designed to go well, not to go wrong. That's why I did not worry about things going wrong at home. I'm no idiot; I know sometimes things DO go wrong. All the midwives I worked with are trained for many of the possibilities: they carry oxygen for babies that need it, they are trained in CPR and first aid. When I tore slightly in my first birth, my midwife stitched me up just as nice as you please. If something more serious had gone wrong, we were five minutes from the local hospital, a call away from 911.

I'm not the only person I know in real life who favors homebirth. Some of the people I know BECAUSE they are homebirthers (we belong to a group of moms who practice a certain parenting style, many of whom also chose homebirth). But I have been surprised by the friends and acquaintances I have that I didn't know chose to have their babies at home, or have since asked me about mine because they are now considering it. It's a growing movement, one that deserves to be acknowledged and accepted as an alternative. And we who are a part of the movement also deserve to have trained, capable attendants of our choice, who can acquire a license, and who are not harassed, prosecuted, or persecuted.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Local political rant

A homebirth midwife I know quite well, Jennifer Williams, is being charged with practicing medicine without a license. She could go to jail for helping a family have a homebirth.

I don't know all the details, but apparently the birth went well until the end, and then it went downhill very quickly. The baby did not survive. The parents are supportive of the midwife, but apparently someone in authority thinks an example needs to be set.

I have no doubt that this midwife did everything she could do to save the baby, including, if there was time, get it to a hospital. The thing is, (mrtl, don't read this sentence!) sometimes babies die. Even in hospitals. Most of the time, it's no one's fault. But anytime most homebirth midwives in Indiana have a bad outcome, even if the outcome would have been no different in a hospital, they risk their job and her very freedom.

Midwives in Indiana CAN be licensed...if they are nurse-midwives. But nurse-midwives who attend homebirths are not plentiful in Indiana. They have to operate out of a private practice, not a group practice with a doctor, because most doctors see midwives as a threat, as competition. Insurance for a private practice is expensive, and some insurers will not cover homebirthing midwives. There ARE plenty of certified practicing midwives in Indiana; unfortunately, state law does not currently recognize their certification (most of them obtain it from Illinois, which does train and certify non-nurse-midwives).

The midwife in this case has been lobbying the statehouse for several years to change Indiana law to recognize CPMs, but one particular state rep always blocks the bill and refuses to even give it a hearing. It dies before it even makes the docket.

There are many families in Indiana who choose to give birth at home. In fact, homebirth itself is not illegal in Indiana, not in any state. Homebirth is not for everyone, but for the families who want it, we have the right to have a trained attendant. Doctors won't do it. Nurse-midwives who will are hard to find. CPMs will do it, but they take a risk every time they do.

I am so grateful for the midwives who were my caregivers during my pregnancy and attended the births of my children. It would be a real shame if there was one less midwife available to the many Indiana families who rely on them.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

You were right, Susie

Anyone remember the poop-dancing episode of last summer? Aislinn, Johnny Jump-Up, bare feet, poop on the carpet beneath her? Yes? Good.

Now, let me also remind my readers of some of the comments made, and a prediction made by Susie.

Lawbrat's comment:
I once babysat for a woman with a 1 year old. She had told me a story about him: They were at a BBQ, and she was holding him. He pooped, she didnt know it. The color of the poop matched the BBQ sauce. When she saw what she thought was BBQ sauce on her arm, she likked it off. It was not BBQ sauce, but POOP!


(No, she did not spell it that way originally. I changed it for this entry. Guess why?)

Susie's reply:
Wow. Thanks to lawbrat, searchers will come here for poop-likking. (Thanks to lawbrat and ME;)


(No, Susie can spell too. I edited her as well. Do you have the gift of prophecy or something, girlfriend?)

And for good measure, Thomas J. Brown said:
And wow, that poop-likking story is... Well, I have a friend who would =REALLY= appreciate it.


(Once again, Thomas J. knows how to spell, I'm quite sure.)

Susie was right. I checked my Site Tracker stats today for the first time in a while, and guess what I found in Recent Keyword Activity?

Yes. THAT phrase. I'm not going to type it YET AGAIN and give the pervs yet another instance of the phrase to lure them over.

Thanks, EVER SO MUCH, to the three of you, for helping initiate my blog to the nasties! Now, I can only imagine someone will have a thing for "poop-dancing" and the first line of this entry will get them here.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Deal or No Deal?

DEAL!

Leo got someone at the dealership to agree to an outside inspection. There may be some issues in the future, but he knows what they are and what they are likely to cost, and we're going to take it.

We have a van! He is driving it home right now.

::UPDATED::

I LOVE IT! I love the dual automatic sliding doors the most. No more yanking a heavy side door open while balancing a baby on my hip, laden down with purse and diaper bag. Just click a couple of buttons on the remote, and they're open. No more having Audrey crawl in under Aislinn's carseat, and then me climbing between the front seats to the middle row to buckle her in. No more yanking a heavy door SHUT, hands free or no.

And, oh yeah...heated seats ROCK :)

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Friday is Susie's birthday!

And to honor the occasion, mrtl is holding a contest: since Friday is also Bean Day (don't ask me, she says it is, so it must be), all interested parties should write a bean-inspired birthday-greeting.

Since Susie is one of the funniest bloggers I know (have you read her Booty Flies post? If not, go do it right now before you read further. And be sure to read the comments as well!), and also since I could not think of anything particularly original, I googled "bean jokes" and was lucky enough to find a bean joke that has a birthday theme as well. As you may well guess, since this is a bean joke, it's a tad, er...well, let's just say middle-school boys would probably appreciate it. But I hope that Susie, having the great sense of humor that she does, will get a crack out of it.

So without further ado, the joke:

Once upon a time, there lived a man who had a terrible passion for baked beans. He loved them, but they always had an embarrassing and somewhat lively effect on him.

One day he met a girl and fell in love. When it became apparent that they would marry, he thought to himself, she'll never go through with the marriage with me carrying on like this, so he made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.

Shortly after that they were married.

A few months later, on the way home from work, his car broke down and since they lived in the country, he called his wife and told her that he would be late because he had to walk. On his way home, he passed a small cafe and the wonderful aroma of baked beans overwhelmed him. Since he still had several miles to walk he figured he could walk off any ill affects before he got home. So he went in and ordered, and before leaving had 3 extra large helpings ofbaked beans. All the way home he putt-putted. By the time he arrived home he felt reasonably safe.

His wife met him at the door and seemed somewhat excited. She exclaimed, "Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for you for dinner tonight!" She put a blindfold on him, and led him to his chair at the head of the table and made him promise not to peek.

At this point he was beginning to feel another one coming on. Just as his wife was about to remove the blindfold, the telephone rang. She again made him promise not to peek until she returned, and away she went to answer the phone. While she was gone, he seized the opportunity. He shifted his weight to one leg and let go. It was not only loud, but ripe as a rotten egg. He had a hard time breathing, so he felt for his napkin and fanned the air about him.

He had just started to feel better, when another urge came on. He raised his leg and RRIIIPPPP !!! It sounded like a diesel engine revving, and smelled worse. To keep from gagging, he tried fanning his arms a while, hoping the smell would dissipate. He got another urge. This was a real blue ribbon winner, the windows shook, the dishes on the table rattled and a minute later the flowers on the table were dead.

While keeping an ear tuned in on the conversation in the hallway, and keeping his promise of staying blindfolded, he carried on like this for the next ten minutes, farting and fanning each time with his napkin. When he heard the phone farewells he neatly laid his napkin on his lap and folded his hands on top of it. Smiling contentedly, he was the picture of innocence when his wife walked in. Apologizing for taking so long, she asked if he had peeked at the dinner table. After assuring her he had not peeked, she removed the blindfold and yelled, "SURPRISE!!!"To his shock and horror, there were twelve dinner guests seated around the table for his surprise birthday party.



The moral of the story, Susie: Don't eat beans on your birthday!

Happy day, friend! Hope it's a good one!

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

The van saga continues

An friend has an acquaintance whose husband buys and sells used cars at a dealer's-only auction. (Already I can hear how bad this sounds. Bear with me.) Friend says acquaintance can get a few vans for us to look at (based on what year, model, and options we are looking for), and let us pick the one we want, for a reasonable fee. Leo goes to meet acquaintance, believes she seems trustworthy. Yesterday acquaintance calls Leo and tells him that we've missed the Chrysler auction for this week, but we can go on down to the auction site and look around at what is there. So we get a babysitter (good planning, since we find out only upon arriving that no one under 18 is allowed on the premises) and take a few hours to go look around.

Upon arriving, we go into the main building and tell the receptionist we are "friends" of this dealer, assuming that will get us in to look around. She makes a quick call, then says, "Mr. N's office is right over there; go on in." We're a bit confused, having thought we'd just go out and look where the Chrysler vehicles are kept (how naive we are). But we go over to Mr. N's office, who says, "You guys must be the ones looking for the Town and Country. E (his wife) shouldn't have sent you here today; the auction's over." Nice. We know this. We're not here for the auction. Apparently some slight miscommunication here.

It gets worse.

(I'm going to call him Hair from now on, because he has the kind of thick hair that looks like a toupe but is probably real except maybe the color, and should just be kept shorter, and because I end up really ticked off at him at the end. Incidentally, he supposedly used to play for the Pacers a long while back, though a quick Google of his last name turned up one single link, not him.)

We stand in his office (behind a couple of chairs, never once asked to sit down), while he babbles on about how the kind of van we want doesn't show up all the time and may not be easy to find. We have to remind him TWICE that we don't REQUIRE leather seats, we don't REQUIRE an LXI, but specifically want two automatic sliding doors and a 3.8 engine. Hair continues to go on, clearly not listening to us, acting somewhat aloof. I'm ready to walk out, expecting him to blow us off quickly and politely, as it's clear his wife expected him to work with us, but did not let him know we were coming. He instead gets on his computer to see if he can find something we like, warns us not to tell people we are doing this, because they only ever do this for friends, at which point I'm wondering why his wife is helping us, since she does NOT know us, and only met Leo once. He keeps talking to ME, even though Leo is the one doing the talking for us. He also keeps implying his wife is an idiot, and at one point even says (I kid you not), "E talks out of her butt sometimes." Even though it's clear he is not really interested in helping us, he keeps rambling on and not giving us an out to leave. He takes a couple of phone calls while he's talking to us. Tells us we don't have to pay anything until we get the car (BIG red flag: Leo has already written a check for 70% to his wife). Keeps finding vehicles that we have said we DON'T want. Finally finds one that seems acceptable, hanging on to us while making us feel we are intruding upon him. Tells us to call him Friday so he can let us know if it's likely to go to auction next week. We say, fine, thanks for your help, and walk out.

As soon as Leo closes the door to Hair's office, I say out loud, "Asshole!" Yep. I said a naughty word. Can't help the truth.

Clearly Hair's wife cannot be trusted, even if there is a small chance she meant no harm. Hair does not get any points for congeniality; he may not have wanted us there, but that's hardly our fault. I feel embarrassed, insulted, and just plain ticked off that we still are no closer to having a vehicle.

The day is not over yet. Oh no. Not by a long shot. Leo wants to look around at some car lots in the area and ends up at a big Westside one. We see a red Town and Country (2001 or 02) that is almost a twin to the one we saw a few days ago that we could not get. We take it for a spin, even though the price on the sticker is about $1500 more than I know Leo wants to pay (with the guy telling us it's a bottom line, clearance price), and I question the wisdom of test-driving this van when I KNOW how hard-headed he is about price. We both drive it. I like it. It's got just about all the options we were hoping for, minus a DVD player, but as I've said, that's no biggie. One significant problem: the speedometer does not work. When we get back, Leo tells the guy about this, and expresses hesitancy over the price. About this time I try to make myself scarce. I have no problem with dickering for a better price, but Leo is really embarrassing sometimes. The guy, amazingly, seems willing to deal, despite having said previously the price would go no lower. So we go inside.

Leo gets the guy down to a price about $1ooo more than I thought he would pay; apparently he's tired of the hunt too. They get everything down on paper, including fixing the speedometer, and then the guy mentions an $89.5o documentation fee. Right away, I know we're in for trouble.

[tangent, ala mrtl]When I bought my first car about 9 years ago, my dad was with me, and told me to decide on what monthly payments I wanted, and not waver from it. They agreed to my price, and then when we sat down for financing, it was about $15 a month more than what I wanted. I protested. Not loudly, but firmly. I was paying $150 a month, no ifs, ands, or buts. The lady kept typing, coming up with amounts that were closer and closer to my goal. Finally, she said, "Well, I can take off the $50 doc fee, there's not much left after that." That took me down to $150 and some change. I was happy. And then dad said, "OK, what if I put $200 down? How low will that take it?" Gotta love my dad! Later, I asked him irritably, why the heck they put all those random fees on there if they can take them off? [end tangent]

[second, related tangent]When we bought the Windstar five years ago, Leo pulled his usual stunts, squeezing the guy for everything he was worth till his boy-parts were probably black and blue. When they finally agreed to a price, and then the guy mentioned doc fees, I kept my mouth shut, knowing now that they can be waived, but not wanting to encourage Leo to keep playing his game. Later, as we drove off in the van, I gleefully told him of his oversight and my knowledge of it. He rolled his eyes at me, we both laughed, and went home and enjoyed the van. [end tangent]

Now, here, talking about doc fees, I knew LEO knew they could be waived. Never mind they'd agreed to a price. He was going to balk. I braced myself for it. And he did. The guy tells him they don't knock off doc fees. I'm privately a bit surprised, knowing better myself, but I know better than to open my mouth. Leo won't budge. And won't budge. And finally I get up and walk out the door, unable to sit and listen anymore. It's just too uncomfortable. To Leo, it's a game. To me, it's embarrassing, this haggling over $89.50 after the guy already knocked off over $500 AFTER he said he wouldn't knock anything off. As I walk away, I hear the guy say quietly, "Then we have no deal." Maybe, as Leo said later, he thought I was throwing a tantrum and was counting on it working on Leo. I know I am not throwing a tantrum, and don't count on anything working on Leo. I expect to see him in the car with me in less than a minute. After about five, and seeing through the window that some manager-looking dude is over at the desk talking with them, I realize they must have come to an agreement after all.

Unbelievable.

Even from Leo's explanation later, I still can't figure out who gave in. But we go home knowing we've got a van, pending repair of the speedometer.

And it's still not over. Oh no. On the way home, I ask Leo if he wants to get the car checked out by a mechanic, something we've always done. He smacks himself on the forehead; he totally forgot about that. Is it too late? He doesn't think so. But this morning, our guy says he won't allow it. Now I'm pissed. I want a van. I want this van. But I want it to work, longer than their paltry 1-month/1000-mile warranty, and I DON'T want to buy any kind of extended warranty without knowing what we are likely to need. Leo says he is still going to try, but he's not entirely sure we could get out at this point. He agreed to a price and signed something; I did not sign anything and did not see what he signed. It's possible we could lose our earnest money, about $100, but Leo also says he's resigned to getting the van at this point unless something really bad shows up. I am worried that six months from now, he'll be complaining about something that's gone wrong with the van and will be vaguely hinting it's my fault for walking out and "forcing his hand".

I'm sick and tired of the whole process. I just. want. a. van.

Monday, January 02, 2006

So you think you're a good parent...

Yeah, I know. We sacrifice for our kids. We endure 26 hours of back labor, leave our jobs to stay home with them, nurse them until our ta-tas want to fall off, lose sleep when they wake us up with a fever, give up our free time to chauffer them to their activities, drive ourselves to insanity playing Candyland for the 20-millionth time. We love our kids.

BUT...are we willing to:

  • Walk 70 miles across an icy desert, day and night without sleeping, to the place where we are destined to conceive, birth, and care for them until they can care for themselves?
  • Endure months of gestation without the support of our partner, who will be off gorging on seafood while we fast the entire time?
  • During this fasting time, sit on the ice protecting our child while blizzards rage around us?

And moms, are you willing to let the dads take credit for the majority of this?

I consider myself a pretty good parent. But when we watched March of the Penguins recently, I realized I've got nothing on emperor penguins. They annually walk miles day and night to their birthplace to mate, then when the female lays the egg, the male carefully balances it on his feet, hiding it under a belly flap, while the female leaves for a few months to eat, swim, and play. When she returns to relieve the male, the chick will already have hatched, protected through raging Antarctic blizzards by the male, who has not eaten anything during this time. They trade off every few weeks until summer, when the whole family treks back to the ocean. And they repeat this process EVERY. YEAR. I love my kids, and I would die for them if necessary. But would I willingly go through this annually just to HAVE another kid? Doubtful!

I loved this documentary, and Morgan Freeman kicks butt as the narrator. Audrey, however, is very tender-hearted with regard to animals, and was brought to tears at times when penguin eggs froze and cracked, fathers succumbed to the cold, mothers were eaten by seals, and babies were attacked by birds of prey. At the part where the mothers return and meet the babies for the first time, bringing food (in the form of regurgitated fish), I said, "Look, these all made it!" "Yeah," she replied, and then burst into tears and said "Except for the ones that DIED!" It was almost comical, and at times I despair at how overdramatic she can be. But I know someday this will translate into great sensitivity to the sufferings of others.

That, or she will be a highly skilled actress by the time she reaches puberty.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Happy New Year

Dick Clark sounds like he's talking with marbles in his mouth, bless his heart.

I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be his successor, Ryan Seacrest, laying a big one on...Hillary Duff? Some blonde, anyway. Oh, wait, she was on the West Coast, probably not. Anyway. If Ryan Seacrest is America's next Eternal Teenager, I feel ripped off.

Happy 2006, everyone!