OK

Everything is OK right now.... Pearl asleep in her crib and the two older girls down for a "Movie Nap," I and my butt (yeah, two separate entities today) planted in front of the computer for a little bloggytime. It's OK. The emotional meltdown of last week is gone, and there is a short break from the family festivities of this week.

Well, not really a "break" but I am taking a break. My little brother is walking onto a podium in a few minutes to pick up his degree from BYU Law School. Rock on little bro!

Fiddle-dee-dee, I do this when I teach my once-a-month stint for Relief Society... I feel this compulsion to explain to the listener how I arrived at the lesson plan for the day. Like it will somehow add to the experience for you, or help you understand the material better if you hear how I distilled it from the assigned topic du jour. I'm sure I apologize for it every month... and then I do it anyway. And so you get this explanation for my post.

Fruitcake.

I wasn't really planing on going to see him walk... to be honest, I cannot see getting a babysitter or calling in a precious child-care favor so I could go sit on my can for a few hours to get the pleasure of seeing the man get handed a slice of paper... no matter how HARD EARNED, expensive and life changing that paper may be. I'll see him later tonite and I'll make sure to clap loudly and whistle a few times to make up for it. Even if I had planned to go, I wouldn't have gotten to anyway. Pearl has been declining a little the past few weeks.

Don't panic, we are OK, she is OK. As a matter of fact she is growing and doing. Today at the doctor's office she weighed in at 26lbs... maybe six pounds or so lighter than LaLa. She spent all day yesterday climbing up and down the stairs at my little brothers new house, trailing after all of the older kids. She is doing everything she should be. It is just so painful to listen to her breathing, so hard to have this constant reminder of her mortality. Not so much the gooey and grindy quality of the breathing, I am mostly inured to that It's the new note of harsh, tight whistling, and the barking sound that accompanies a deep intake of air to cry or yawn that has been getting worse the past few weeks. I have been calling it "asthma exacerbated by allergies" and it may be so, but yesterday as I lay next to her sleeping little body, and watching her working so damn hard for every breath...

well...

We went back to the doctor's this morning to see if he thought that my pseudo-diagnosis of allergies might be correct, and if so, could we get some Baby Zyrtec. Plus also, could he lean on the Pulmonary Specialists to get us an earlier appointment than her current June 27th visit.

As alarming as her breathing sounds (and our doc was quite alarmed), she is breathing. She is thriving and developing even with how hard she has to work for the oxygen, and this will likely not get her in to the specialists any faster, but it never hurts to try. If she can live with it, then so can I. And to that end we picked up some more oral steroids, and a script for that Zyrtec with a "who knows, maybe it will help." I will also start carting her nebulizer along on any day visits, for while it doesn't seem to make much of a difference, I'll take any kind of happy placebo to relieve the tension that builds in my heart after a day watching her entire torso pump in and out to that horrible raking sound.

There may be a few things we can do before we hit the Pulminologists's. Perhaps another little procedure to get a look at her throat down past the larynx again. Who knows what they might find now that the view is not obscured by the presence of two pennies in her esophagus. Plus maybe the CT scan person was wrong. Plus maybe, maybe, maybe I can let it go and have some faith. I am doing what I can, I really do know that I am... that things will work out fine.

But there are those times in the middle of the night that my heart races and I can hardly even think it in words.... but I DO think it. Maybe, just maybe my sweet little girl is too sweet. Maybe I don't get her for very long because maybe she doesn't need mortality for very long. It's sad little dark times like that, that I wish I were Greek. I understand the comfort that comes of spitting on your children to show any demon or darkness that might consider harming your child that they are not too loved or too special. See? I spit on them! They suck! You don't want a child that is spit on by their own MOTHER! No need to even things up here!

What a downer of a post, huh? I'm gonna have to call it Post Therapy, because most stuff in Chaos is pretty OK and we are doing our regular stuff every day. My blogtime has been cut into by reading and writing with Birdie (she has announced that she is so desperate to learn to read, she will deign to be taught by her mother), and the increased time spent outdoors as the weather improves... and the arrival of a Wii! But all this will no doubt all settle out and I'll be back around again. Maybe tomorrow? Next week?

The McWreckersons

I have recently had a visit from my "friend" Emotional McWreckerson. She appears to be dug in for the next few days, so if ya don't hear from me....

When she finally packs in her little circus and leaves I will update y'all on the madcap adventures of the Chaos Girls, the Internet Playdate we had with Zeeb, Calvin, Kiki and Sarah K, a book review and some photos of the flowers in my front yard.

As you were.

Sunday Pic: Springtime Chaos

For the record.... you know those pictures you have of yourself as a child, and you have to ask "the HECK was my mom thinking, dressing me in that getup?" She'll tell you something like "the fashion back then" or "you picked it out."

Truth of it is? She thought it was funny. Maybe it didn't make her laugh out loud, but it made her grin, or snicker even if only on the inside. These headbands with their interchangeable gee-gaws, ribbons and flowers however, they make me laugh till I snort. The girls love them, but I suspect I will not be forgiven in twelve to fourteen years and I DON'T CARE!

The dresses are courtesy of Grandma P.

Big Dooin's...

... in the House Of Chaos. So big that I hardly am able to speak of them.

Dooin' Numero Uno- we have moved Pearls crib into the older girls' room. This has been playing merry hob with the sleeping patterns around here... namely MY OWN! But through sheer attrition, last night The Chaos was asleep by 8:45pm. Except, possibly for Birdie... but she just hangs out quietly in her bed in the dark singing quiet Bird songs and thinking her Bird thoughts.

Side dooin' to the first dooin'- Pearl now think that she is ALL THAT! She is a BIG GIRL and must now be treated as such. My mild as milk baby-doo was pushed out of the way by a bigger kid at Storytime in the Library today... she pushed right back and stood her ground. She insists on walking. She yells.


Dooin' Numero Two-o- Dadguy has cancelled his World of Warcrack account. Done. As of the night before last, he is a... a uhhh.... well whatever a person who doesn't play WoW is called. A non-WoW-er? Not sure what all this means, or what brand of side dooin' will come of it. But there it is. Done.

Not a dooin', but I died laughing this morning when Birdie was dancing about in the kitchen and stopped to say,

"I am your GOOD minion, huh mama!"

Yup, I got the BEST minions evah!

Obsession

Another day another meme! This one is my five top obsessions. I got this taggity via Hope, and now that I have that last intimidating bit of meme-ity out of the way... I can get on with my regularly scheduled whimsy.

First a disclaimer... my number one obsession has put all other obsessions on a back burner, which is sad really, as I love to define myself by my eccentricities. While I acknowledge that doing that (self defining by weirdness level) is a dumb thing to do. I still do it. I think it's primarily a "notice me" thing... as in "sixteen year old girl angst see how off-beat I am" and therefore a little extra humiliating. But, I still do it. I am a work in progress.

1. Chaos. As in my three little girls. It starts when they are babies with the mental tally of how long-they-have-slept and how-long-it-has-been-since-they-slept. Also quantity-of-milk-intake vs. upchuck-levels, temperature, diaper cleanliness and excrement output.. and it gets more complicated from there. Add Pearl's health issues and just shoot me NOW! Which, by the by... we have an appointment to see a Pulminologist at Primary Children's hospital to see if there is any help to be had there. Whee!

2. Books. Especially children's picture books. Love to read 'em, look at them and think about them. Don't much love to pay for them... they run about sixteen bucks a pop for hardbound, and even that is no guarantee of lifespan around Chaos. Someday, I'm a gonna write and maybe even illustrate some books.

3. 24. can you blame me? I think that next season I will sit in Dadguy's camp and just wait for the DVD version so we can slurp them all down in one sleep deprived week like we did with the other seasons. This "one episode a week" crap is not for me!

4. Mmmmmm... sleep. I could really use some quality sleep! Someday I WILL sleep again, but for now it is just an itching obsession. We put Pearl in with the other girls and moved out all the toys to her old room, which is now the "Toy Room." The sleeping around these parts has not been what I would call quality.

5. Comments. What a pain, huh? Usually I can keep it in line by reminding myself that the next time that I get freaky about comments, stats and whether or not someone links to me... I'm done blogging. The last freak out was over a year ago and it helps that I purposely keep under the radar by not putting effort into attracting readership etc... but there it is. An ugly truth, but a common one.

Now... five people that I tag.... I tag YOU! If you wanna do this one just lemme know in the, ahem... comments.

I got hit with a meme for my "top five obsessions"... BUT I still have not done the meme of "five things I am grateful to Feminism for." I have a hard time doing a new meme when a longer standing tag weighs so heavily on my mind. Does a little dose of OCD count as an obsession?

Trust me... it is not for lack of obsessing about the latter meme that it has gone unwritten. I have notes written out on the back of an envelope, midnight thoughts that I did not want to lose in regards to what I have to say about feminism... or Feminism. I have lost sleep and angsted.

First let it be said that I was unable to quantify five separate items, think as I might. I believe that women are different than men... but there is no better or smarter or more capable to the equation. If a woman does the same work? She better &%$#! well be paid the same amount. If a woman is more qualified? She ought to get the job.

We have come closer to the ideal today. But reality is still not caught up to the big "oughts" that feminism fights for. This makes me very sad. Because this fight has created some serious collateral damage.

I question the fight altogether, my friends.

It has been said by some newer-minder feminists that the term "feminism" mean "pro-woman," and how can you be a woman and not "pro-woman"? So if you are a woman with a brain and not overtly masochist... you must be a feminist?

No.

First, let's think about this. In order to be pro-woman you begin to place the agenda and needs of women above those of "non-women." You may think... well, females are approximately half the population of humanity. So, good for women pretty much equals good for humanity. Obviously there has historically been horrifying abuses of men's power wielded against females. I don't want to take down, or take back the advances that have been made there... I just want to say that perhaps these advances have been won at too high a cost. I want to gently suggest that women are NOT half the population of humanity. There are men and there are women. There are also boys, girls, babies and dare I say it? The unborn.

I don't pretend to know all the incarnations of modern feminism, but everything that I DO know suggests that I can pretty safely say that Feminism with a capital "Eff," and those who use the term with no caveat in regards to themselves: has securely hitched it's wagon to that of legalized abortion. It is my fear that this "pro-woman" movement has pitched itself squarely against the interests of humanity and society in the form of violence against innocents.

You think I am a hypocrite for enjoying the greater vision and voice that I have as a result of battles won by Feminism? Perhaps.

You think that I am condemning my sisters for aborting their babies? Am I calling them murderers? Do I spit and hiss?

No. My heart is as broken for my sisters who have been caught up in the machine and mentality of death, as for the lives lost from their wombs. The damage has tainted men, women and the relationships between them.

I believe that it is not mine to condemn or judge... but it is mine, especially as a woman to urge with my voice and actions that we reconsider some of the things that have been swallowed whole from the meal that is "Feminism."

I am not looking to start a fight, and if you look around this bloggity at all, you will see that I am an innocuous mommy-blogger just trying to document her babies lives and a few stray thoughts. I am no great thinker, but my heart is full of belief and love.. and I truly hope that I have not hurt or offended anyone. But I will not back away from my anti-abortion stance.

I leave you with my favorite quote from Mother Theresa
"It is poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish."



*edited to add- I stand all kinds of educated and corrected!
but then again... there is that caveat: Feminists "For Life," and "First Wave" Feminists.

Sunday Pic:Creaky Treats

Wanna see something cool?

My mama made Rice Creaky Treats!

Here, lemme cut it in half and you can have some.

Pshaw! As IF! This baby is mine all mine!

Aw, hey... don't cry! here's a tissue.

Wadda ya know, look at the time...

Time to clean up...



See ya next week!

Happy Anniversary!

It's been seven happy years with you, my darling Dadguy... and if I had an extra four to five grand, I'd buy you one of these bad boys.

Since all I have is a couple of bucks? I'm a taking you to Wendy's, 'cause I roll like that!

I am lousy at writing the mushy stuff, it's hard to see the keyboard through the tears and I'm a crappy typist to boot. But I will say that I have never met a man like you before in my life. You make me happy and you make me laugh. You are my fairytale ending and the beginning too.

You are a great provider and an awesome Daddy... you are the Rockstar of Chaos with four of the most ga-ga girl groupies alive. Squeeeeee!

I am a lucky, lucky woman. Here's to the rest of our forever.

Non-Issue

A month ago I wrote a post about the "on purpose accident" trial we were having with LaLa. Y'all chimed in with some comforting advice that reinforced my decision to just put her back in doobahs and wait it out, making it a non-issue. Best thing I ever did. I have known that with LaLa, any head to head confrontation I enter into, is going to escalate all the way to thermonuclear warhead exchange. I appear to require refreshers every now and again. So I'm trying to pick and choose carefully what are the needful battles... like safety issues and sleep.

It's just funny to me that it took less than a month. Going into the back-to-wearing-doobahs scene with my three year old felt like the end of the world. It felt like I had failed, and that my punishment was having to change horrifically smelly stinker-pants. If I had known then that it was going to be such a short stint? Ahem...

Just feeling a little sheepish on this end.

She took a few weeks of back and forth between panties and doobahs, but it really felt like once she was positive that I wasn't going to insist? She gave in to the siren call of the potty and her prettiest My Little Pony panties. Other than an isolated request for a doobah when she had a sick tummy last week, she is a full-time pantie girl again. While I am quietly breathing a sigh of relief, I am also fully prepared to put her back in doobahs.

Non-issue. Again, thanks.

*edited to add: Eeeek! A giveaway that you MUST sign up for! Five minute for Mom is giving away a Dyson Slim.

Sunday Pic: The Mythology of Birds

Birdie has always been a visual person. As a wee baby she would study picture books, and as soon as she got words she began expressing her observations.

"Mama, that sign is like a triangle!" or "Look that truck just drove and made a circle." or one of my favorites... a "Tree Angel."

She is fascinated with magic and magical creatures. She and LaLa already have an entire mythology of power and talisman. "When I touch this rock it will give me the power to fight the evil minions!" This picture has been taped to the girls' door for the past few months. It is a Scorpadillo and it protects against monsters and bad dreams.No clue where she came up with a Scorpadillo.

The whole "Santa and the Reindeer" shtick goes over pretty big around Chaos for obvious reasons. Birdie mostly likes to draw the reindeer. You know. Hooves.

Mermaids. I think it's pretty obvious that these bathing beauties are Disney inspired.

And fairies, with cats that have fancy flower hat things growing out of their heads. It looks like this is gonna be a great week!