<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:37:06.641-07:00</updated><category term='positive parenting'/><category term='happy things'/><category term='art'/><category term='recalls'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='writing'/><category term='waldorf'/><category term='hedgehogs'/><category term='discipline'/><category term='etsy'/><category term='it takes a village'/><title type='text'>my kid-life crisis</title><subtitle type='html'>tales from a former teenage, single, somewhat attached, working mother to one. &lt;br&gt; now older, partnered, very attached and staying at home with two more.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-6340976341867081840</id><published>2010-08-03T15:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T15:22:49.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>new blog home....</title><content type='html'>catch us over here now....&lt;a href="http://awesomama.blogspot.com/"&gt;awesomama&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-6340976341867081840?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6340976341867081840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-blog-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6340976341867081840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6340976341867081840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-blog-home.html' title='new blog home....'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-2676866544728013362</id><published>2010-07-04T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T23:13:31.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i used to be much better at this blogging thing, before i had a blog.</title><content type='html'>as some of you may know, i once upon a time had a livejournal. or four. whatever. and&amp;nbsp;i used to be pretty damn prolific, even annoyingly so. like ten years ago, i used to update multiple times per day and i used to publically share mighty juicy details of my inner workings and my exciting&amp;nbsp;night life. it was good stuff, i'm telling you. i was even good at posting poems, song lyrics, and the latest quiz. i had no problem sharing with everyone and anyone, the last person i talked to, the last time i cried, what i was wearing, what i was doing, what i'd had for breakfast. all that stuff that no one really, truly gives a shit about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i loved livejournal so much so that i must admit i was still an avid lj'er even after pea was born but something changed when i was pregnant with sprout...i read more than i wrote and by the time he was born, days would go by without the need to log in. instead of posting ten times a day, i might post ten times in a month. now, if you're familiar with livejournal, you know that throughout the years it has become increasingly annoying to be a non-paid member and for whatever reason (maybe when they went around &lt;a href="http://thelactivist.blogspot.com/2006/05/livejournal-takes-anti-breastfeeding.html"&gt;banning users with breastfeeding icons&lt;/a&gt;) i decided i wasn't going to pay for the service of allowing me to spill my heart out into the ether. and so i had to deal with a growing number of obnoxious, talking ads and now it's even worse. a commercial plays when i log in before allowing me access to my "livejournal experience" and well, why bother with all of that when i can pretty much keep up with everyone i care about via facebook?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is only a partial joke because, also, when pregnant of sprout, i finally got with the now and created a facebook account which i found nearly as addicting but was somehow able&amp;nbsp;to avoid spending&amp;nbsp;all day on it the way i used to with livejournal, between my entries and constantly refreshing my "friends page". so facebook and the growing sucktitude of lj ads&amp;nbsp;helped me wean myself from obsessive online journalling. and i think that's why i suck so bad at keeping this (and my other) blog afloat. at least, that's my story for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-2676866544728013362?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2676866544728013362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-used-to-be-much-better-at-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2676866544728013362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2676866544728013362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-used-to-be-much-better-at-this.html' title='i used to be much better at this blogging thing, before i had a blog.'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-8747058074834006710</id><published>2010-06-24T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T16:50:24.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in an effort to change...</title><content type='html'>just a while ago, my four year old was enjoying a large, jonagold apple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;want any but when i&amp;nbsp;noticed how long it was taking him to finish,&amp;nbsp;i asked if he wanted&amp;nbsp;me to eat&amp;nbsp;the last, untouched&amp;nbsp;slice. he said, "no," so i went about my business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a few minutes later he offered me the last slice and i agreed to finish it before i realized that he was holding it.&amp;nbsp;the sliced side was&amp;nbsp;taking up his entire palm. the germ-a-phobe-freak-a-zoid my mother raised was completely grossed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the rational part of me, which does exist, knew that&amp;nbsp;pea probably washed his hands when we got home or the last time he went pee. since he is my kid and all, he obsessively washes his hands if he even so much as steps foot in&amp;nbsp;a bathroom. the emotional part of me&amp;nbsp;knows that most &lt;em&gt;normal &lt;/em&gt;mothers will share food and drink with their offspring without a second thought, without getting grossed out, without reliving a part of their childhood where their mother made them feel like disgusting little creatures even if they were disgusting little creatures who had yet to learn not to touch food and then put it back, or backwash a little into a glass or soda bottle, or not wash their hands before eating, or whatever. and even if the seed of OCD cleanliness has been planted early, kids are kinda gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but &lt;em&gt;normal &lt;/em&gt;mothers still love them &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; share food and drink with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i got over all my past life experiences and present habits and did something i've never really done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i acted like a normal mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kidding, kidding, i "act" normal all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but instead of finding a creative way to make pea&amp;nbsp;finish the&amp;nbsp;apple, himself,&amp;nbsp;or coming right out and saying something potentially damaging like "ew, gross," i ate the damn apple slice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;warm cooties and all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-8747058074834006710?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8747058074834006710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-effort-to-change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/8747058074834006710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/8747058074834006710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-effort-to-change.html' title='in an effort to change...'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-8977580092383790279</id><published>2010-06-04T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T15:00:51.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>why no, i don't have a killer macro lens</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlTLSRzViI/AAAAAAAAASk/StUDzPob5qE/s1600/bigassdandelion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlTLSRzViI/AAAAAAAAASk/StUDzPob5qE/s320/bigassdandelion.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;i may have a killer dandelion, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlTeevvFgI/AAAAAAAAASs/rbYA95D74Qo/s1600/bigassdandelion1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlTeevvFgI/AAAAAAAAASs/rbYA95D74Qo/s320/bigassdandelion1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and i don't just mean pretty...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlTvo0a5EI/AAAAAAAAAS0/Lcv62qWqla0/s320/bigassdandelion2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;this thing is like three feet tall &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;(or more - that sun statue that you can barely see&amp;nbsp;in the back, left corner is at least 18" tall).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlT9MI3hHI/AAAAAAAAAS8/Ld5L6QTKbh8/s1600/bigassdandelion3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlT9MI3hHI/AAAAAAAAAS8/Ld5L6QTKbh8/s320/bigassdandelion3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;okay, here's a better example...this thing peeks into our kitchen for breakfast&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlT_Qvx4dI/AAAAAAAAATE/w8SzpFCLGtM/s1600/bigassdandelion4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlT_Qvx4dI/AAAAAAAAATE/w8SzpFCLGtM/s320/bigassdandelion4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;and i blame it for my itchy eyes, every morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-8977580092383790279?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8977580092383790279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-no-i-dont-have-killer-macro-lens.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/8977580092383790279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/8977580092383790279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-no-i-dont-have-killer-macro-lens.html' title='why no, i don&apos;t have a killer macro lens'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/TAlTLSRzViI/AAAAAAAAASk/StUDzPob5qE/s72-c/bigassdandelion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-9220170349539700716</id><published>2010-06-01T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T17:52:27.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i think i think too much</title><content type='html'>i saw a quote today that was something like "if you think too much about how to do something, it will certainly be it's undoing" and if that isn't at all close to what i read, that's the gist of what i took away from it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i may have spun it to have more personal relevance since&amp;nbsp;i feel like&amp;nbsp;just going with it right now, not putting too much thought into this journal or the art because i've been overthinking both of them for far too long.&amp;nbsp;essentially second-guessing and questioning so much that i was headed down a very unproductive path -i was&amp;nbsp;thinking about what i could do, but admittedly i wasn't &lt;em&gt;doing&lt;/em&gt; anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as with anything, i think i can easily get off-track simply by letting my thoughts run amok - i feel creative and instinctual, always have - but in the last several years i've had no shortage of creative and intuitive thoughts, i've just done nothing with them, or about them. it is good to see the change coming, to feel it. to be &lt;em&gt;doing&lt;/em&gt; it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i almost said that i've &lt;em&gt;decided &lt;/em&gt;to just start doing art everyday, but it wasn't a decision. it was a choice. i have recently chosen to do something creative everyday. it doesn't matter what it is. and a few weeks ago, kind of serendipitously, i saw a copy of &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Artistic-Mother-Practical-Fitting-Creativity/dp/1600613489?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=mykidlifecris-20&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;The Artistic Mother: A Practical Guide to Fitting Creativity into Your Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=mykidlifecris-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=1600613489" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;at borders and i eventually went back to get it. while i may not actually follow each and every project over the next 12 weeks, it was just the thing i needed to inspire and motivate me enough. to do art. make art. be creative. stop making excuses. you name it. my internet time is now more focused. my daily tasks beyond the typical domestic duties include nothing but play and creative expression. even if i'm painting with a baby at my feet or on my back. even if i have to stop 345 times a day to get a cup of water, apple, grapes, clean a butt. whatever. this is my job. it's one of the things that i've always wanted and it took me several years to&amp;nbsp;realize that i already had it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things are, of course, not always ideal but they are getting so much better since&amp;nbsp;i started thinking less and doing more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-9220170349539700716?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/9220170349539700716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-think-i-think-too-much.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/9220170349539700716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/9220170349539700716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-think-i-think-too-much.html' title='i think i think too much'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-2426217522442136009</id><published>2010-05-31T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T09:02:56.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love that kid!</title><content type='html'>this morning i awoke to a very curious (almost) 14 month-old and a very loud and bouncy 4 year old. as the 4 year old kept standing up on my pillow and throwing himself backwards on the bed i was aware of just how long and lean and BIG he is getting. i marvel at this from time to time when i catch a glimpse of how much growing up he's actually doing but it still surprises me everytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in my sleepy, reminiscent state i told pea that he wasn't supposed to keep growing. he was supposed to be my baby forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his reply was, "i &lt;em&gt;will &lt;/em&gt;always be your baby. even when i'm a teenager and even when i'm a done-up." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-2426217522442136009?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2426217522442136009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/love-that-kid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2426217522442136009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2426217522442136009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/love-that-kid.html' title='love that kid!'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-2844997618739099783</id><published>2010-05-28T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T15:29:42.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my name is not slacker.</title><content type='html'>i've been thinking a lot lately about this whole&amp;nbsp;blog thing. i&amp;nbsp;have had a livejournal for almost ten years (in july, i think?) so i naturally thought&amp;nbsp;i'd have no problem updating this or my &lt;a href="http://blessedboymama.blogspot.com/"&gt;review blog&lt;/a&gt; regularly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then a month can go by and i haven't done a single review (and not for lack of&amp;nbsp;fun things that i &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; review) and i haven't made a worthwhile contribution here. i take pictures and make notes for my "blog" all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't share them here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't share them on livejournal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder if i'm a total nutcase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i really started to ponder this a few weeks ago. what am i trying to accomplish, what is my blog's purpose? i'd start by answering that part of my blog's purpose is to continue to reach out to like-minded individuals and interact, gain feedback and insight, to share. much like my livejournal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i know i don't even give this blog a tenth of what i've put into livejournal over the years, whether it be in personal antecdotes or raw emotion. livejournal was my dumping ground.&amp;nbsp;blogging was supposed to be different, this happy place where i could show the world i was strong and capable. while my livejournal(s) have largely remained public throughout the years and it's true that anyone could technically "find me" with a little know-how, a blog feels more open, without all that reciprocal encouragement that i got from livejournal. i mean, for some, i suppose that's there but i don't have a follower base of 3000 just yet. i've got one steady reader, maybe. so i feel like if i get all open and honest here, i'm really baring it all to the great wide open without that safety net of my chosen friend's list. i ain't go no friends here, it's just me. and i suppose on some level that's frightening. putting yourself out there isn't so scary when you've got friends that will comment and make suggestions, offer advice, share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, i also started the blog(s) to earn a bit of cash. it is no lie...i mean, there are some pretty well-organized ads all over. i spent time making sure it wasn't omfg obnoxious and over the top like some blogs that make me want to get off the computer and leave the room screaming. i mean, i&amp;nbsp;actually want people that may stop on by to come back, you know. but aside from that, i eventually forsee the blog(s) as being integral to my business - the selling my wares on etsy business. but now i'm all confused about that (so, i'll just sidenote digress here for a sec, because i'm good at that................do-do-do-do-do-do-do................&lt;br /&gt;just as i have two blogs, i now have two etsy shops and i'm wondering if it's completely absurd to offer my original artwork of and relating to children and motherhood, as well as my {again, family-oriented} hand knits and whatever else tickles my fancy in one shop and then my hardcore, "i have pain" emo mixed media pieces. like the dark, grown-up side and the fun-loving, happy-go-lucky mama side can get along but not in the same shop. is that like so totally bipolar that it would never work??? yeah, so that's bothering me, like whoa!) i just don't know yet how it's really all going to work out and i've even been questioning&amp;nbsp;why i have two blogs and not just one. i initially started &lt;span style="color: #d5a6bd;"&gt;blessed mama&lt;/span&gt; to encompass all that i was feeling as a forever mom of boys and never a mom of girls. but i could never open up there, even though i think it's an important topic and women should not feel guilty if they have gender preferences, i actually started to really REALLY (not just like saying, "really" but actually feeling it) be at peace with where i'm at, who i am, and what my life is all about. boys and all ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not even sure what prompted me to start this blog but ever since, i've&amp;nbsp;had the idea that&amp;nbsp;this blog&amp;nbsp;would be&amp;nbsp;family/life oriented whereas the &lt;a href="http://blessedboymama.blogspot.com/"&gt;other blog&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;would strictly be for reviews and giveaways. i felt that i could appeal to two different sets of readers, if need be, but it wouldn't be difficult for readers interested in both to hop between the two. but then also having two etsy shops just makes me wonder if i've taken being disjointed way too far. what makes sense one day doesn't seem to make sense the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so those are the two main reasons i started to blog but i had to also ask myself why i update so infrequently. part of me feels like i've put so much of myself out there over the last ten years&amp;nbsp;- and&amp;nbsp;while i&amp;nbsp;really liked the commentary and interaction that&amp;nbsp; livejournal once&amp;nbsp;provided, i have grown bored with the whole gig in the last few months. i still log on and read my friend's journals but don't comment much, the interaction has become less important. and now, there just seems to be more important things to do, than update about my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i don't know. as with many things, i haven't reached any great conclusion. i don't know if&amp;nbsp;maintaining two blogs is a good idea. i don't know if producing two very different types of artwork is a&amp;nbsp;good idea. i am so full of doubt right now but really need to remain positive and come up with some clear objectives. creating intent and purpose is slightly more complicated than i would have previously thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-2844997618739099783?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2844997618739099783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-name-is-not-slacker.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2844997618739099783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2844997618739099783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-name-is-not-slacker.html' title='my name is not slacker.'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-3904361040989073157</id><published>2010-05-19T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T07:27:55.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the mysteries of our origins have been revealed</title><content type='html'>i am not a huge conversationalist, or rather, i don't feel that i know how to speak to children to get the most spark out of them. i have seen glimpses, though, of sheer brilliance and pure wonder and imagination. it's true that i haven't even lost all of mine, but sometime in the last thirty-one years, i've lost most of it. so whenever my children say wildly "childish" things, i savor them, delighting in their insight and conclusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday's conversation with my four year old was one worth writing down immediately!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea:&amp;nbsp;were people alive when there were dinosaurs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: according to what we know, people and dinosaurs weren't alive at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea: then, if there were no people, how did the first person get born?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: ah, that's the most mysterious question in the whole world. :pause:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; some people believe that god created them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea: do you even think he exists?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: :trying not to fall out of my car from the shock that my four year old even knows this is a question worth asking: um, i start, uh...i don't think of god as some people do, like he's a person or thing capable of creating other people or things, but rather, i think of god as the creative energy force within all of us (and then worrying that i'm getting way too philosophical for my own good, i redirect to the original question) but anyhow, some other people think that maybe&amp;nbsp;we evolved from other creatures, like ancient apes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea: i think that a dinosaur's egg hatched, or whatever they do, and then surprise! a person came out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-3904361040989073157?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/3904361040989073157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/mysteries-of-our-origins-have-been.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3904361040989073157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3904361040989073157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/mysteries-of-our-origins-have-been.html' title='the mysteries of our origins have been revealed'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-7125422189924836998</id><published>2010-05-11T18:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T18:44:19.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i have to say</title><content type='html'>that i totally love being a mama to little boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it took forEVER. three boys, in fact. but i was kissing on my youngest, earlier, and realized how perfect everything was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how perfect everything is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-7125422189924836998?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7125422189924836998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-have-to-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7125422189924836998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7125422189924836998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-have-to-say.html' title='i have to say'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-6521186894280063333</id><published>2010-05-08T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T10:20:39.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it is no secret</title><content type='html'>i am slightly obsessed with moleskine notebooks. with unlined pages. yum. it is an obsession that started when i worked at barnes at noble at age 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it started with a simple, understated hardcover black classic journal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since then, my love and respect for the cahier journals has grown immensely. &lt;br /&gt;i prefer the kraft look most of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm less fond of the volant line, though i do love me the rainbow of colors offered so i have a few.&amp;nbsp;the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Moleskine-Volant-Notebook-Ruled-Xsmall/dp/8883708687?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=blessedmama&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;x-small&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=blessedmama&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=8883708687" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt; pink ones can be found in my car, for jotting down quick notes or thoughts that i want to follow through on, but will forget while driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyhow, where is all of this going? i don't know, but i am telling myself that i need this &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Moleskine-2011-Month-Weekly-Notebook/dp/8862933894?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=blessedmama&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;18 month calendar&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=blessedmama&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=8862933894" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;even though i've never been one to dedicate all my doodles, thoughts, and appointments to one notebook for an entire year, much less a year and a half. i already have a &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cahier-Large-Plain-Cover-Moleskine/dp/8862931034?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=blessedmama&amp;amp;link_code=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" target="_blank"&gt;red cahier &lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=blessedmama&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=8862931034" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;in my diaper bag at all times. do i really need the added functionality of a calendar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, the perplexities of a saturday morn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-6521186894280063333?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6521186894280063333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-is-no-secret.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6521186894280063333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6521186894280063333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-is-no-secret.html' title='it is no secret'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-3256638465407796914</id><published>2010-04-08T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T08:14:48.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>busy little bee</title><content type='html'>i have neglected the blogs (and writing, in general) in the past month or so because i have been preparing for my upcoming nuptials. yup, blessed papa and i are finally making this official.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we've been in the planning stages for a while, after setting a date about seven months ago. but, as with most things, i put things off or wait until the pressure of "last minute" is upon me to really get moving. so. last month i was printing invitations, and in recent weeks i have been working on my vows, selecting the readings for our ceremony speakers, compiling our reception playlist and still have to print programs, water bottle labels, and do a million other little things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's like 16 days left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just found the right dress yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, as much as i'd love to type up a bunch of reviews i've been meaning to post over &lt;a href="http://blessedboymama.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and kick off two exciting giveaways for the mama crowd, it's going to have to wait until next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i could handle the everday day to day, on top of writing an article, and planning and preparing for my wedding but it's crunchtime and my house is a mess. i have slacked in the blog (and article-writing) department and need to focus solely on wedding plans right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;needless to say, i thought some tiny update was necessary. i'm still here ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-3256638465407796914?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/3256638465407796914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/04/busy-little-bee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3256638465407796914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3256638465407796914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/04/busy-little-bee.html' title='busy little bee'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-8035172585277160833</id><published>2010-03-24T00:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T00:45:10.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>if wishes were fishes, we'd all be at sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;yesterday, to represent the fact that i was repeatedly reminding myself that i am nearing 31 years of age and can no longer believe in magical thinking and the power of childlike, frivolous wishing, i wore my &lt;a href="http://www.threadless.com/"&gt;threadless&lt;/a&gt; "wishless" shirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5UX33U9_GI/AAAAAAAAAOw/XMHZs39Mpoo/s1600-h/wishless.bmp"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446285572886625378" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5UX33U9_GI/AAAAAAAAAOw/XMHZs39Mpoo/s400/wishless.bmp" style="cursor: hand; height: 400px; width: 384px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;because wishing is absolutely fucking pointless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so then i started pondering...in this abundant, energy and thought-filled world we live in what is the difference between a wish and an intention. must our dreams (used here to glorify the term "goal") and desires fit within certain realms of possibility? certainly not, as some may argue, then there would never be any innovation or progress for individuals or society. but we're still bound to particular matters of fact or theory, such as gravity. yes, it is times like these i wish that (haha. there i go again) i could leave the young children under the care of my teenager and run away for the day with a notebook and pen and ponder all ponderables in peace until i come to some&amp;nbsp;sort of working solution for myself, until the nagging questions stop nagging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;but if wishes were fishes, we'd all be at sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;someone once told me that, as a child. i have no idea who but it stuck with me as one of the most gentle phrases i've ever heard to convey the message that we're all basically shit out of luck when it comes to wishing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and how.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in that strange way that all things connect and make sense somewhere, last night i was driving home with just the pea in the backseat and he, out of nowhere, says, "mama, i wish we could make wishes and they'd come true."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;me, too, little one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and to keep it succinct, i won't get into the whole warning to "be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it" - i have a bit of experience with that, too. can't win for losing, sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-8035172585277160833?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8035172585277160833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/if-wishes-were-fishes-wed-all-be-at-sea.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/8035172585277160833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/8035172585277160833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/05/if-wishes-were-fishes-wed-all-be-at-sea.html' title='if wishes were fishes, we&apos;d all be at sea'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5UX33U9_GI/AAAAAAAAAOw/XMHZs39Mpoo/s72-c/wishless.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-3845611153461729073</id><published>2010-03-12T08:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T08:53:23.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh no, she didn't!</title><content type='html'>yes. yes, she did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was flipping channels early in the morning, which i don't normally do, but i came across the CBS show &lt;a href="http://thedoctorstv.com/main/the_doctors_section_head"&gt;the doctors&lt;/a&gt; and was intrigued by the question and answer format of today's episode. i'm not sure if it was a recent episode or a re-run because i've only watched about 15 minutes of the show ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one question came from a breastfeeding mother with a ten month old who has recently started biting her. according to her letter, he bites every time she nurses and HARD. she basically asked what she could do about this nuisance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was shocked when the only female doctor on the panel, dr. lisa masterson, stated the only option the woman had was to wean her son. dr. masterson explained that if an infant is biting his mother, it's an indication that the child is saying, "i'm done with you, i've had enough" or something to that effect. just wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was then also surprised that a male doctor not only gave much better advice, but the advice i have used myself, successfully with my youngest two nurslings (i didn't nurse my oldest long enough to experience biting). he said that the natural reaction might be for the mother to try and pull their child off the breast as they bite, but if you've ever tried this, yeah, you know how ineffective and painful it can be so he suggessted, instead, that you gently push the baby's head towards your chest, squishing their little nose and they'll unlatch themselves so they can breathe. it's been my favorite technique and neither of my younger bite for long after experiencing that a few times. i read about it in a dr. sears book, either the &lt;a href="http://www.askdrsears.com/store/detail.asp?pid=21"&gt;breastfeeding book&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.askdrsears.com/store/detail.asp?pid=10"&gt;the baby book&lt;/a&gt;, i forget which. so it wasn't all too shocking when i discovered that the male doctor that provided this awesome advice on the show, was dr. jim sears, son of &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; dr. sears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while i am still somewhat livid after hearing dr. masterson's terrible advice passed off so matter-of-factly, i am very grateful that CBS has dr. sears on the panel and that he can offer a more gentle alternative to some of the things that pass as mainstream, acceptable medical advice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-3845611153461729073?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/3845611153461729073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-no-she-didnt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3845611153461729073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3845611153461729073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-no-she-didnt.html' title='oh no, she didn&apos;t!'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-1960903820222221873</id><published>2010-03-05T23:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T01:00:29.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes i get my kids happy meals</title><content type='html'>and yesterday was one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea was expecting a madagascar penguin toy and so he was surprised when the drive-thru attendant asked me if the meal was for a boy or a girl. because they still had the madagascar penguin signs up i had no idea which toy would be cooler and decided to be honest, and get the boy toy for my boy child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was the better choice, since the happy meal bag revealed that the girl toy was some iCarly crap. the boy toy (don't get me started on how mc donald's just might perpetuate inaccurate gender stereotypes) was star wars related. and as i'm explaining to my four year old that he got some sort of star wars aircraft launcher, he asks, "is that green guy on the bag a star wars character?" yes, that's yoda. "and they use life savers in star wars, right?" yes, *chuckle* that's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he's never actually seen star ways, mind you. but he knows all about the extendable &lt;em&gt;lightsabers&lt;/em&gt; at target.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-1960903820222221873?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/1960903820222221873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/03/sometimes-i-get-my-kids-happy-meals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/1960903820222221873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/1960903820222221873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/03/sometimes-i-get-my-kids-happy-meals.html' title='sometimes i get my kids happy meals'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-737989211841156390</id><published>2010-02-16T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T12:50:14.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't try this quinoa recipe at home</title><content type='html'>for health reasons i have tried to embrace &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;quinoa&lt;/span&gt; on several occasions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think once i managed a hot breakfast cereal that was palatable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i decided to heat up some flakes in order to bulk up &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sprout's&lt;/span&gt; fruit and veggie purees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was an awful lot of warm, fluffy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;quinoa&lt;/span&gt; left over in the pan after i added some to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sprout's&lt;/span&gt; lunch and put away what &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; use in his meals for the week so i decided to make pea and i an after-lunch dessert with the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it sure looked pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had wanted to share a recipe consisting of some &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;quinoa&lt;/span&gt; flakes turned hot cereal as per package instructions, with some vanilla extract, nutmeg, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;cinnamon&lt;/span&gt;, ground flax &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;seeds&lt;/span&gt;, and a sprinkling of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;turbinado&lt;/span&gt; sugar. sounds pretty, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but. well. um.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i asked pea if he liked it and he said, "no. you taste it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't much like it, either, but couldn't tell if it was because it had grown slightly cold as we finished our lunch, because of the texture, or because i had mistakenly stirred it with the same spoon &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; used to stir my green chili stew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sprout liked it better than he liked his pureed peaches and bananas but pea wasn't about to eat anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want it all to go to waste so i finished my helping but let pea leave the table.&lt;br /&gt;the taste and texture improved after i got over my initial gag reflex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;quinoa&lt;/span&gt;, i do. but aside from adding cooked flakes to the baby's food, i think &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; reserve them for baking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-737989211841156390?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/737989211841156390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/02/dont-try-this-quinoa-recipe-at-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/737989211841156390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/737989211841156390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/02/dont-try-this-quinoa-recipe-at-home.html' title='don&apos;t try this quinoa recipe at home'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-6825324151749390053</id><published>2010-02-11T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T23:05:45.669-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in Craigslist™</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;it's been far too long since i last updated but i've been BUSY! not much to show for it, but i have successfully moved around the same piles of stuff several times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm keeping on top of the laundry, sort of. but without getting into a lengthy discussion of why i was even behind on laundry, to begin with, let's just skip to the humor to be found in not one, but THREE, Adventures in Craigslist™ i've had recently.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. i listed a single, lonely oak chair. i even stated in the title of my listing that there was only one.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i had more than one individual email me to ask me if both chairs were still available.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. i listed a very nice, solid wood bookshelf for $75. sure, i start my asking price slightly higher than what i'd accept because i know how craigslist works. today i get an email asking if the bookcase is still available and if i'd take $25 for it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;no. it doesn't work&lt;em&gt; that&lt;/em&gt; way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. i am in the market for a minicrib and would prefer a modern, safe version without a drop- down side or folding "portable" (read: deathtrap) feature. i say as much in my listing but still agree to meet someone to see theirs, though i suspect it's not quite what i'm looking for. i suppose i shouldn't have wasted either of our time but the seller suggested we meet me about two minutes away from my house, so i took a chance. imagine my surprise when the lady pulls out a spray-painted flimsy minicrib with a drop down side, cracked and broken mattress platform made out of plywood that is maybe 1/4" thick with a date of manufacture of 1995. um. no.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-6825324151749390053?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6825324151749390053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/02/adventures-in-craigslist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6825324151749390053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6825324151749390053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/02/adventures-in-craigslist.html' title='Adventures in Craigslist™'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-4443906476743793497</id><published>2010-01-28T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T09:54:36.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>teary-eyed thursday morning</title><content type='html'>this was the first thing i saw this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom sent me the link in a facebook message because she obviously knows how to reach me ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/E8K9s7_k3TM&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/E8K9s7_k3TM&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom 2.0: defining a moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is &lt;strong&gt;the most&lt;/strong&gt; beautiful, touching, and TRUE sentiment on motherhood i've ever come across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i was inspired to write and share:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this morning, the snow is lightly falling outside&lt;br /&gt;reminding me that winter really isn't almost over,&lt;br /&gt;but running a little late, instead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our tender saplings, planted last year &lt;br /&gt;sway in the wind, i imagine they will all survive &lt;br /&gt;as their buds prepare to make an appearance in the spring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mind is heavy and tired&lt;br /&gt;my heart full of love, breasts full of milk&lt;br /&gt;a reminder of last night's sick baby&lt;br /&gt;on the mend now, i wait for him to nurse with&lt;br /&gt;his usual delight as long he wants or needs to,&lt;br /&gt;throughout the rest of this glorious day&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-4443906476743793497?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4443906476743793497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/teary-eyedthursday-morning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/4443906476743793497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/4443906476743793497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/teary-eyedthursday-morning.html' title='teary-eyed thursday morning'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-7447633873755519082</id><published>2010-01-26T20:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T20:58:29.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>relevant daily om</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;this may be interesting only to me. and my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her and i talked this weekend, about all manner of things, but one being my last blog entry and what "not blaming or becoming" one's parents entails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how ironic, in a way, that this would arrive in my inbox today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;January 26, 2010&lt;br /&gt;Becoming Your Parents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Generate Your Own Patterns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though many of the tempers and temperaments that define you are inherited, you control how they manifest in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heredity plays a role in almost all human development, whether physical, mental, or emotional. We tend to look like our parents and are subject to the same sensitivities they have. We may even be predisposed to certain behaviors or preferences. As we grow older, we become increasingly aware of the traits that exist within us and the clear history of the traits of our mothers and fathers. Our response to this epiphany depends upon whether the inclinations, tendencies, and penchants we inherited from our forebears are acceptable in our eyes. We may honor some of these shared traits while rejecting others. However, there is no law of nature, no ethereal connection between parents and children, that states that the latter must follow in the footsteps of the former. We are each of us free to become whoever we wish to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we accept that our parents are human beings in possession of both human graces and human failings, we begin to regard them as distinct individuals. And by granting mothers and fathers personhood in our minds, we come to realize that we, too, are autonomous people and in no way destined to become our relations. While we may have involuntarily integrated some of our parents’ mannerisms or habits into our own lives, conscious self-examination will provide us with a means to identify these and work past them if we so desire. We can then unreservedly honor and emulate those aspects of our mothers and fathers that we admire without becoming carbon copies of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though many of the tempers and temperaments that define you are inherited, you control how they manifest in your life. The patterns you have witnessed unfolding in the lives of your parents need not be a part of your unique destiny. You can learn from the decisions they made and choose not to indulge in the same vices. Their habits need not become yours. But even as you forge your own path, consider that your parents’ influence will continue to shape your life—whether or not you follow in their footsteps. Throughout your entire existence, they have endeavored to provide you with the benefit of their experiences. How you make use of this profound gift is up to you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-7447633873755519082?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7447633873755519082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/relevant-daily-om.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7447633873755519082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7447633873755519082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/relevant-daily-om.html' title='relevant daily om'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-6939530056152040253</id><published>2010-01-18T01:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T10:13:54.770-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='waldorf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discipline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive parenting'/><title type='text'>children need love the most when they least deserve it</title><content type='html'>the first time i saw that quote i liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was in fourth grade and it was taped up in a school counselor's office, though it might have actually said, "children need a hug when they least deserve one." while it might imply that love needs to be earned, it really hit home for me. by the time i was in fourth grade hugs were a rare treat, offered by my mother maybe once a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the quote has stuck with me since and has offered gentle support during some of the tougher moments on my journey through motherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;long before i was aware of parenting styles and their related methods of discipline and before i soaked in information on early childhood development in various psychology classes, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; educational philosophy appealed to me. i was just twenty-one and bean was nearing school-age but i did not research as much as i could have. i read bits and pieces of information, here and there. i knew that the only &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; school in our area was 60 miles away, and even with the logistics of getting him there and back aside, i could not have afford the tuition. i printed a few things from the &lt;a href="http://www.oakmeadow.com/"&gt;oak meadow&lt;/a&gt; website and i ordered a few books from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ebay&lt;/span&gt;. resources were rather scarce and i wasn't motivated to search harder or become more involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; education was simply a curriculum to choose from among many, not realizing the philosophy was more a way of life. to be honest, i was first drawn more to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;montessori&lt;/span&gt; ideals but they felt too rigid and when i realized that the demands of my job would make it nearly impossibly to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt;, i enrolled bean in public school and researched no further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it wasn't until i was pregnant again, five years later, that my interest in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; education was renewed. i felt ready to meet the challenges of living a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt;-lifestyle head-on. except that i severely lacked rhythm and structure and as far as discipline was concerned i still had a long way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the time pea was two years old, i thought i had a handle on conscious, peaceful parenting, i was letting respect for and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;attachment&lt;/span&gt; to this little person be my gentle guide. i can't say exactly what it was that happened next but between various &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;stressors&lt;/span&gt; in my adult life, pea turning three, and a painful pregnancy due to severe &lt;a href="http://www.pregnancywizard.com/complications/symphysis.php"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PSD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, i let things slip and suddenly i was reverting to old patterns and behaviors wherein i was not being very gentle or patient all of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could see the immediate effect in my child. the one my mother likes to point out was "very attached" to me was suddenly unruly, less cooperative, and more independent. i knew some of this was normal behavior for his age but i could see where some of pea's behaviors were mimicking his older brother's and i knew i was the common denominator. i started to read &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Screamfree-Parenting-Revolutionary-Approach-Raising/dp/0767927435/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1263801273&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;scream-free parenting&lt;/a&gt; on the recommendation of an online friend. it wasn't necessarily a personal recommendation but she was suggesting it as a must-read for anyone that grew up in a home where dysfunctional communication or yelling was commonplace. i learned that what the author considered "screaming" didn't necessarily have to mean that one was actually yelling or raising their voice at all. it was a real eye-opener and i suggested that my mother read the book because she is still raising children and they could benefit from a calmer, more peaceful mother, as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have to be honest here again. i didn't finish the book. i didn't even implement more than half of what i read, though the first few examples had a huge impact on me. i had another baby and other things took precedence. it's been almost ten months since sprout was born and getting back on track is once again my first priority. i started reading &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Discipline-Book-Better-Behaved-Child-Birth/dp/0316779032"&gt;the discipline book by &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. sears&lt;/a&gt; as a refresher course in what i already knew. it has helped tremendously to reaffirm my belief in attachment parenting but i have yet to meet my own (real or perceived) standards in terms of waldorf philosophy and practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i believe it is a challenge for me because i wasn't shown how to be loving, gentle, kind or patient. those are not the strong suits of either of my parents. i don't blame them and i may repeat this sentiment often (i even wrote a poem about it once). as trite as it sounds, i know that they did they best they could with what they had available to them. however, i do admit that it is difficult not to think that the rhythm, order, and reverence shown in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; schools and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;homeschools&lt;/span&gt; comes easier to those that are much more patient and easy-going, either by nature or as shown through nurturing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the good news is: there are now a vast majority of both attachment parenting and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; resources currently available. i know how to seek them out and apply them. this has been on my mind lately as my mother and i still don't see eye to eye on several aspects of disciplining children, what is appropriate to expect of them, and how to handle challenging toddler behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have adopted an approach that is less harsh and requires more of me - i have to take responsibility for my emotions and maintain control over myself, i have to exact more patience and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;persistence&lt;/span&gt;, i have to hold myself to a higher degree of accountability in order to be consistent and thorough, and in order for my child to learn through gentle guidance, i have to repeat myself. often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of the most interesting things, and why i keep relating this to my mother, is that when i was younger she was actively trying to "undo" all of the negative and harmful forms of discipline her mother had bestowed upon her. she once shared the poem "children learn what they live" with my grandmother and if my memory serves me, my grandmother even displayed it in her home for some time. though it seemed to leave little lasting impression on either of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one version of the poem begins:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.&lt;br /&gt;If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.&lt;br /&gt;If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.&lt;br /&gt;If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;If children live with ridicule, they learn to be shy.&lt;br /&gt;If children live with jealousy, they learn what envy is.&lt;br /&gt;If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;(click &lt;a href="http://home.att.net/~Dleddy/ppoems.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for the entire condensed version)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i read just the beginning, i &lt;em&gt;want &lt;/em&gt;to blame my mother for everything i ever did wrong in my life. i want to be angry with her for hurting me so much. but i know none of that is conducive to living a productive or happy life and the only thing i can do is be a better mother myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tonight i was flipping through the latest issue of &lt;a href="http://www.parents.com/"&gt;parents&lt;/a&gt; (which i don't normally do) and i found myself reading the discipline feature by &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jody&lt;/span&gt; mace. the article titled "new tools for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;DIY&lt;/span&gt; discipline" offered new insights into old ways of dealing with young ones. the last tip was about replacing firmness with empathy. mace explains that a firm, direct approach is perfectly acceptable, at times, such as when a child is blatantly ignoring or disobeying. however, she cautions against being firm when a child is sad, for instance. even if a parent doesn't understand or believe the issue to be worthy of such emotion, children can sometimes feel sincere sadness over the tiniest of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had to explain this to blessed papa, just the other night, when our sensitive little pea was crying at the dinner table. papa was serving us mini-sundaes for dessert and asked us to choose which ones we wanted. i had to leave the table for a moment and when i returned pea was wiping tears from his cheek. he was upset because papa didn't wait for me to return or select a sundae before he chose one for himself and started digging in. i let pea know this was okay, while papa was trying hard not to roll his eyes. i understood that our child was only expressing a very sincere emotion and felt that he was entitled to his sadness and concern even if it was over something that didn't matter at all to me. when we are insensitive to a child under such circumstances it can be perceived as both ridicule and shame and the child eventually becomes less likely to share his or her feelings with others and sometimes goes so far as to repress uncomfortable emotions so he or she does not even recognize them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mace suggests that firmness is replaced with empathy and she explains that it is as important to children as it is to adults to feel heard and understood. a little bit of empathy can go a long way, not only in terms of how it makes our children feel more secure and empowered but also in the sense that it teaches them important lessons in how to relate to others in healthy and productive ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with this topic weighing heavily on my mind, i came across this bit on discipline in a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; school:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;...the discipline is neither rigid in the traditional sense nor free in a permissive way. the objective [is] an easy, peaceful atmosphere in which all can breathe freely. this arises quite naturally when there is the right human understanding amongst pupils and between teacher and pupil: a mutual caring concern and regard. correction, if required, is carefully considered regarding the nature of the behavior and the dignity of the individual.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;(the full article can be found &lt;a href="http://www.docstoc.com/docs/19600014/Waldorf-Education"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could have not said that better and it easily applies to the home setting, whether &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;waldorf&lt;/span&gt; education is a part of that setting or not. the key to a mutual caring concern and regard is to be a caring adult, as children learn what they live, mimic what they witness. i feel that being too harsh is akin to being hostile and that, in turn, creates a child always ready to fight. a child who will be hostile right back and so the cycle continues. i fully understand the cycles of dysfunction (and even abuse) and how damaged children often grow into damaged adults who damage their children and so on and so forth. when we are aware and acknowledge the problem we make a concerted effort to exact a powerful change upon our circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;committed to growing as a person and as a mother, i learn as much from my children as i can and i know that the only useful method of teaching is by example, by being the change i wish to see. i understand that it is a process and that sometimes it may feel that i am taking two steps forward and three steps back but i continue to seek out and put to use the tools that that may not have been provided to me so that my children do not find the road to adulthood and parenthood so difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that road begins with childhood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-6939530056152040253?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6939530056152040253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/children-need-love-most-when-they-least.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6939530056152040253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6939530056152040253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/children-need-love-most-when-they-least.html' title='children need love the most when they least deserve it'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-4803330048334540094</id><published>2010-01-07T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T09:42:34.329-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happiness is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and these sweet &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=37117808"&gt;star house rainbow tweets.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S0YcuC4WoWI/AAAAAAAAAKE/zfmbfpKwWa0/s1600-h/starhousetweets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424054378587136354" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S0YcuC4WoWI/AAAAAAAAAKE/zfmbfpKwWa0/s400/starhousetweets.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-4803330048334540094?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4803330048334540094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/happiness-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/4803330048334540094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/4803330048334540094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/happiness-is.html' title='happiness is...'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S0YcuC4WoWI/AAAAAAAAAKE/zfmbfpKwWa0/s72-c/starhousetweets.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-2123107734597178102</id><published>2010-01-06T21:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T09:27:55.774-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='it takes a village'/><title type='text'>it takes a village</title><content type='html'>i am a firm believer that it takes a village to raise a child, to nurture a mother, to support a family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the first ten years of bean's life i was going to school, working, or both. my mother, grandmother, and aunts were my village. the cost of their help was often harsh judgment and misguided opinions, though i had limited options and i appreciated the support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now my village has little to no capacity for support so i called upon a somewhat distant relative to ask for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was a call i should have made months ago but it was difficult for me to truly admit (to myself) how much i need another pair of hands around here. i've wanted help, even asked those closest to me, but i often took their response, or lack thereof, as proof that i just needed to toughen up and tough it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blessed papa, bless his heart, has chosen the life of a small-business owner. two times over. you'd think that would make us twice as blessed, but instead he is twice as stressed. his service-based business is rapidly losing customers due to economic factors, the other is struggling to produce a return on the initial investment. he works at least 60 hours per week. it always feels like more. i feel guilty to the core when i need his help, ask for his assistance, or slink off to the computer for a "break" when he gets home and begins to play with the little ones. i also feel resentful that there is never any time for us and that i have to steal time for myself. however, i am grateful for the unexpected payoff of stealing time for myself the other night - prior to juggling the demands of an infant and a sick child, he didn't quite understand what it is i do all day, how i do it, and why it seems like i never do anything at all. he now understands just enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mother is not willing or able to help me much at all and i am not willing or able to pay the price of her opinion. when i was a single mother, many of my friends were as well. now, most of my friends are married. now, just as then, it is difficult not to compare myself to them, especially in terms of how they can receive familial help without the harsh criticism i'm used to. my mom keeps reminding me that i'm no longer young or single and this might be why, for instance, my father no longer thinks he needs to acknowledge my children for holidays or birthdays and why he hasn't offered to contribute to my wedding. it's also a clear indication of why she thinks i no longer require her help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the nine months since sprout was born, there would have been days i might have seriously disappeared into the soggy, weeping mess of my own tears. it wasn't postpartum depression so much as it was disappointment, longing, loneliness, and helplessness. my sister helped me out on more than one occasion, just by being here. she may never know just how much her very presence helped me and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; never known quite how to tell her. i always knew she had better things to do than hang out with her much older sister but she never let on that she'd rather be doing them. not too much, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since she started college last fall, i knew i could expect to see her less and less. it wouldn't be fair of me to ask her to come over even once a week. since then, the bookkeeping &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; supposed to maintain is six months behind again. managing photos takes a backseat to everything and i have no less than 762 pictures on my camera at any given time. i average a shower every six days or so. life goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; fantasized about having a mother's helper. blessed papa has offered to hire one. then reality sinks in and i worry about all manner of things. like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our home is tiny and often untidy. one of the reasons i need help is to actually keep up with the laundry and cloth diapers so that it looks like i accomplish even the most basic of domestic duties on a daily basis. i need time to myself to sort my bills, prepare packages for the post office, write, paint. shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;being the product of my mother and grandmother's criticisms, throughout the years, the thought of having someone that knows me in my home is nerve-wracking. the thought of someone i don't know being in my home is even worse.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;then there's my own judgment. mother's helpers are for wealthy women with far better things to do than soak in the tub. they are for people that are truly busy with careers and stuff. not people like me, that are launching this or that project and trying to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;declutter&lt;/span&gt; their home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i am justifying the need for help because in the past few months, i have made baby steps towards taking myself and my work more seriously. i have sat down to write, though never uninterrupted. i have sketched and knit in anticipation of finally using my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;etsy&lt;/span&gt; account to sell my wares. i have redesigned &lt;a href="http://hyenacart.com/indigoblossom/"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;indigoblossom&lt;/span&gt; on hyena cart&lt;/a&gt; and restructured the focus to selling new and used, but not so much handmade, items. i have taken &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;initiative&lt;/span&gt; and realized that the only way i can see through any of my objectives is with help. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so i called one of my relatives today. one of my favorite relatives. she helped me watch bean when he was in first grade. at that time, i was working nine to five, couldn't afford before or after-school childcare, and didn't qualify for any type of child-care assistance. i was not receiving child support and had a mortgage to pay. she would pick him from school and nearly always fed him a home-cooked meal, as it would be closer to six by the time i would pick him up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so i called her, not completely out of the blue, but because i ran into her daughter a few months ago. she mentioned that her mom wanted to start volunteering somewhere and she'd told her to hold off, that something truly worthwhile would come along. i then mentioned how much &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; love for her to be a part of my younger children's lives, the way she'd been for my oldest. she gave me her number and i chickened out. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;today i made that call. i got the answering machine so i left a somewhat detailed and rehearsed message.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;as evening approached and she hadn't called me back, my brain started doing that awful thing where it begins to doubt that i did the right thing. what if she has no interest at all in hanging out with two young children? what if she thinks &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; selfish to ask when i haven't spoken to her in years? it is okay, i tell myself. there is no harm in asking. i am reaching out in hopes of creating a more nurturing village. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we shall see what the universe hands me in return.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-2123107734597178102?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2123107734597178102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/it-takes-village.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2123107734597178102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2123107734597178102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/it-takes-village.html' title='it takes a village'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-7579174946405609221</id><published>2010-01-06T07:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T07:36:10.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wednesday, how did you get here so quickly?</title><content type='html'>i've had so many awesome things to share this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea turned four!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went thrifting and scored quite the catch for $5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've knit the most gorgeous pair of fingerless mitts and vow that the next pair i make will be for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blessed papa picked up a wooden ikea table from craigslist and our dining area is now ideal for crafting with little ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but. internet has been wonky and taking pictures off of my camera is slow-going. the littles have had a cough and required more cuddles and mama-time and i've been going to bed early. so. there's that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is my mini mid-week review, of sorts. i anticipate an end-of-week review with actual pictures :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-7579174946405609221?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7579174946405609221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/wednesday-how-did-you-get-here-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7579174946405609221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7579174946405609221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2010/01/wednesday-how-did-you-get-here-so.html' title='wednesday, how did you get here so quickly?'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-5329728196390291808</id><published>2009-12-31T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T10:31:19.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'>year in reflection, new year plans</title><content type='html'>when i look at last year's list of &lt;a href="http://craftybynight.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-crafty-and-lofty-goals-for-upcoming.html"&gt;new year goals&lt;/a&gt;, i feel disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;disappointment has been the theme in my life for the last several weeks as i examine a particular relationship more closely, so it's only natural that it would spill into my perception of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i thought about the list, without looking at it, i felt confident. i knew i hadn't even accomplished half of what i wanted to do (didn't paint, didn't go to the dentist, didn't start a regular yoga or pilates or walking regimen) but i felt good knowing that i had started scrapbooking and updated baby books. i did spend more time outdoors but not enough to feel really good about it. i did declutter enough to feel satisfied with myself, but there is still more work before the house is as it should be. i did many trades and was able to get all of our waldorf homeschooling materials from preschool through first grade and i realized that &lt;a href="http://www.enkieducation.org/"&gt;enki education&lt;/a&gt; was no longer appealing as our only curriculum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i didn't let the most important people in my life know how much they meant and as 2009 comes to a close, i don't feel that i'm any closer to anyone. the distance just bothers me less. unless i really think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and staring at the lofty list created a year ago, i can't help but think about things.&lt;br /&gt;a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i intended on sharing a positive, happy new year's eve post but i feel that my honesty is a bit more valuable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to avoid new year's resolutions because they always seemed so contrived. just as i sometimes think of thanksgiving as an excuse for expressing the gratitude that we should share daily, new year's feels like a time when people make excuses for not being better, doing more, or trying harder and then set themselves up to fail again in the next twelve months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite the negative outlook that sometimes shines through my thoughts, i do still find this time of year an important one for reflection and through that i cannot help but find a glimmer of hope, a ray of optimism for this little realist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm not making any list of lofty goals this time around. i'm just going to keep doing what i've been doing, believing that small, but steady steps towards progress will make a lasting impression and maybe even pave the way for life-changing opportunities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and instead of carrying my disappointment with me throughout the day and as i ring in the new year, i will turn it around and use it as motivation. when i need a reminder to take care of myself or to be present and peaceful for my children, or just a small dose of crafty encouragement i will look at last year's list. afterall, it is rather open-ended.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-5329728196390291808?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5329728196390291808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/year-in-reflection-new-year-plans.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/5329728196390291808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/5329728196390291808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/year-in-reflection-new-year-plans.html' title='year in reflection, new year plans'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-2090734102299534553</id><published>2009-12-30T08:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T11:22:30.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>minimalism and creativity</title><content type='html'>i just picked up a copy of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;amanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;blake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; soul's "&lt;a href="http://soulemama.bigcartel.com/product/the-creative-family-book-by-amanda-blake-soule"&gt;the creative family&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finally, i know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and while i linked directly to her site where you can get your own, signed copy, i did in fact buy locally - or rather, i took some books to a bookstore in trade so i could use store credit to get her book. it felt good to clear off more space on my bookshelves and not spend actual cash. in terms of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;simplifying&lt;/span&gt; my life, through the slow and grueling process that it is, this gesture of parting with books always feels like such a big step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; update, a friend recently asked how exactly one goes about getting rid of books, especially those of us that have visions of one day having a home-library. or better, a home within our library...you know, books lining walls, books lining staircases, staircases built just to access collections of glorious books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while this fantasy seems attainable, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; not sure i want it anymore. i have struggled with both the desire to own every book i take a fancy to and the desire to maintain free space in true minimalist form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as with most things, i fall somewhere &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;inbetween&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;having gone from a five bedroom home with just one son in a previous life, to a home half that size with a family that grew by three more people, becoming minimalist has become necessary. but, as mentioned above, it is a process and no matter how i wish it could be different (read: easier) it is not a miraculous thing to be accomplished overnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or even in the course of one year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as we stay in this small house, year after year, it's not the size that bothers me or the fact that i am forced to pare down (the silver lining is that it allows me to focus on what really matters), but it is honestly the layout. the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;floorplan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is just lousy. it is not conducive to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;feng&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;shui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; or good energy but by cluttering it up, intentionally, i have further decreased the good creative flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can say that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; been "trying" to make things better or that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; been "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;decluttering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" for years but this year was the first that real and lasting progress was made and is still evident. i parted with about half of my wardrobe and was able to clear out an entire dresser which promptly went to a resale shop for in-store credit. i haven't gone crazy with shoes like i might have in the past - for every new pair of shoes that came in, i sold or donated a pair that i wasn't wearing. same with handbags and diaper bags. nearly every area has been subjected to the idea that for every new (or new to us) thing we bring into our home, we must get rid of at least one other thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still, it is a process. and for every pile of paperwork i tackle, another stacks up. for every bag of children's clothing i donate, another eventually finds its way back in as i usually cannot resist crazy good clearance deals or thrift shop finds. which brings me back to "&lt;a href="http://soulemama.bigcartel.com/product/the-creative-family-book-by-amanda-blake-soule"&gt;the creative family&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was happy to see the term "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thrifting"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;thrifting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;" in print since i often have to explain to people, even those that frequent thrift stores themselves, what i mean when i say it. it seems pretty self-evident, but maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had a pattern of thought, promptly lost, when i set out to start this entry earlier this morning. since then, there have been phone calls and other &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;interruptions&lt;/span&gt;. not to mention i hadn't yet finished one cup of coffee so my stream of consciousness was fuzzy, at best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;before i attempt, once again, to tie everything up in one &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;coherent&lt;/span&gt; story, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; just going end abruptly. my plan for the day was to go to thrift town to look for small pitchers and cups for pouring and sorting activities a la &lt;a href="http://www.infomontessori.com/practical-life/preliminary-exercises-pouring.htm"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;montessori&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; theory&lt;/a&gt; and if i don't make steps towards leaving now, i never will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-2090734102299534553?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2090734102299534553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/minimalism-and-creativity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2090734102299534553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2090734102299534553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/minimalism-and-creativity.html' title='minimalism and creativity'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-1827938587625984905</id><published>2009-12-28T11:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T11:06:58.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Barefoot Books Winter Sale has Started!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://store.barefootbooks.com/?bf_affiliate_code=000-07qr-1531" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 511px; HEIGHT: 355px" src="http://www.barefootbooks.com/files/8012/6159/1992/Ecampaign_WinterSale_0110.jpg" width="415" height="385" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-1827938587625984905?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/1827938587625984905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/1827938587625984905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/1827938587625984905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title='Barefoot Books Winter Sale has Started!'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-6937687102117499281</id><published>2009-12-25T11:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T11:29:10.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>merry christmas</title><content type='html'>feeling so blessed today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it doesn't take a day gift-giving and family-time to take note, give thanks, and count my blessings, but it is one of those days where i look around and see the love, warmth, and good in my life and wouldn't change a thing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-6937687102117499281?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6937687102117499281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6937687102117499281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6937687102117499281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html' title='merry christmas'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-2181280389226463745</id><published>2009-12-24T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T09:37:16.845-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy things'/><title type='text'>stripes!</title><content type='html'>merry &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;christmas&lt;/span&gt; eve!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blessed mama is short on time, as per usual so i leave you with one happy picture for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the two youngest boys and i put on our striped socks the other day. their's were matching pairs from the gap. mine were knee-high length, from target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea made a cute comment which i thought would make a great blog title but didn't write down and i inevitably forgot exactly what he said. it was something so full of that child-like wonder and wisdom like "stripes make my feet happy" or "stripes are fun on your feet" but it was neither of those. that's just what my adult-brain has imposed on his words. he doesn't remember what he said, either. but rather than continuing to dwell on it, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; just share the pure happiness that our socks are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SzOmDDzUsjI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/68yqEH59J5Y/s1600-h/sock_stripes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418857348147229234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SzOmDDzUsjI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/68yqEH59J5Y/s400/sock_stripes.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-2181280389226463745?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2181280389226463745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/stripes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2181280389226463745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2181280389226463745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/stripes.html' title='stripes!'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SzOmDDzUsjI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/68yqEH59J5Y/s72-c/sock_stripes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-3487158747202556461</id><published>2009-12-23T10:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T10:41:15.848-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='etsy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hedgehogs'/><title type='text'>hedgehog love on etsy</title><content type='html'>what do i do while nursing sprout to nap, before getting in shower?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why, i search for hedgehogs on etsy, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;loving:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=37247024&amp;amp;ref=sr_gallery_4&amp;amp;&amp;amp;ga_search_query=hedgehog&amp;amp;ga_search_type=handmade&amp;amp;ga_page=3&amp;amp;includes[]=tags&amp;amp;includes[]=title"&gt;these adorable booties&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=37281221&amp;amp;ref=sr_gallery_11&amp;amp;&amp;amp;ga_search_query=hedgehog&amp;amp;ga_search_type=handmade&amp;amp;ga_page=1&amp;amp;includes[]=tags&amp;amp;includes[]=title"&gt;this amazing felted plush&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=37228605&amp;amp;ref=sr_gallery_21&amp;amp;&amp;amp;ga_search_query=hedgehog&amp;amp;ga_search_type=handmade&amp;amp;ga_page=3&amp;amp;includes[]=tags&amp;amp;includes[]=title"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;note cards&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=36409933"&gt;sweet mama and baby&lt;/a&gt; (i actually have one of these sweet pillows that i spent way too much on before i realized the seller offered them on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;etsy&lt;/span&gt;!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=30639213"&gt;such a precious shirt&lt;/a&gt; (a dear friend named her baby &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;niamh&lt;/span&gt; and now i see the name everywhere.) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=36395139"&gt;mama and babies tile&lt;/a&gt; (i've always loved these and wonder if they make customs with three babies?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=24134650"&gt;pendant tiles&lt;/a&gt; (also own several of these. love them!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;okay. sprout is solidly sleeping. mama can get cleaned up now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;enjoy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-3487158747202556461?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/3487158747202556461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/hedgehog-love-on-etsy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3487158747202556461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/3487158747202556461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/hedgehog-love-on-etsy.html' title='hedgehog love on etsy'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-6404266966665834473</id><published>2009-12-23T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T10:41:35.806-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='etsy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recalls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy things'/><title type='text'>morning hustle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;sprout has sprouted teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 315px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418484119955937362" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SzJSmUcRmFI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/TTZ4QptdqQ4/s400/wooden_baby_spoon.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so our petite &lt;a href="http://www.novanatural.com/baby-spoon"&gt;wooden baby spoon&lt;/a&gt; from nova natural is no longer safe and will soon have little teeth marks on it, i'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and speaking of wooden baby spoons, &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=28081720"&gt;this one on etsy&lt;/a&gt; is delightful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but back to sprout. he is my latest teether - at eight and a half months, his bottom two teeth have just emerged. i felt the obvious white teething bumps last week, even though there have been times in the past four months that i thought they were noticeable. two days ago, i saw the tell-tale "teething blisters" on his bottom gums and last night felt the ridges of newly sprouted teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he did so well, too. i learned with pea that humphrey's and amber teething necklaces (not for actual teething on but worn for their anti-inflamation properties) are &lt;strong&gt;everything&lt;/strong&gt; they're cracked up to be. so it must have been intuitive that i put the amber necklace on sprout about four days ago. two nights ago i gave him some humphrey's as he was really restless and wouldn't settle to sleep but i was expecting a few more restless nights before his teeth actually made their way through the gums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looks like it was also intuition that i got him another &lt;a href="http://www.treecitydiapers.com/store/product/15179/Natursutten-Teether-Apple/"&gt;natursutten teether&lt;/a&gt; at whole foods the other day. i bought one when i was pregnant but it has mysteriously disappeared and i've never found it in the eight months since his birth. of course, a quick google of the product produces links to the &lt;a href="http://cpsr-rspc.hc-sc.gc.ca/PR-RP/recall-retrait-eng.jsp?re_id=885"&gt;canadian recall of natursutten teethers. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it doesn't look like the US has issued a recall, but the paranoid in me is hoping i didn't throw away the package so that i can compare the UPC number to the canadian products involved. the rational in me is saying it hardly matters if the water has a little bacteria in it because i wouldn't let my child chew on something his teeth could puncture. but then i get paranoid all over again and wonder how i would even know when his teeth would be sharp enough to do such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how quickly a blog entry can get diverted. here's an &lt;a href="http://www.zrecommends.com/detail/health-canada-recalls-natursutten-pacifiers-will-a-us-recall-follow/"&gt;interesting read &lt;/a&gt;about a similar recall for nuby liquid-filled teethers - canada lead the way, FDA guidelines aren't as stingent but the US quickly followed suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe we should just stick to our wooden spoons and wooden teethers. even though, no matter how often i rinse them, i'm sure bacteria breeds in the wood, too. but if my base knowledge of bacteria is accurate, the normal bacterias we're exposed to daily wouldn't pose as much of a concern as some other, unknown bacteria potentially dwelling in a toy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so instead of posting more pictures, my entry has come to an end with an unknown "what to do?" about our natursutten apple teether because i have to take a shower and go run some last minute errands with the boys.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-6404266966665834473?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6404266966665834473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/morning-hustle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6404266966665834473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/6404266966665834473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/morning-hustle.html' title='morning hustle'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SzJSmUcRmFI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/TTZ4QptdqQ4/s72-c/wooden_baby_spoon.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-7265239110448276951</id><published>2009-12-22T11:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T11:46:45.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>could not have said it better</title><content type='html'>i just read something that mirrored many of my own thoughts but offered more encouragement than i can ever seem to offer myself in such short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take a few minutes for yourself and read &lt;a href="http://theparentingpassageway.com/2009/06/19/the-simplicity-of-parenting/"&gt;the simplicity of parenting&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peaceful parenting is where it all begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;breathe. be inspired. take heart. seek truth and you shall find it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-7265239110448276951?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7265239110448276951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/could-not-have-said-it-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7265239110448276951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7265239110448276951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/could-not-have-said-it-better.html' title='could not have said it better'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-2514316736760953158</id><published>2009-12-20T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T20:08:16.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>amazing babies</title><content type='html'>i cannot wait for this movie to come out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vB36k0hGxDM&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vB36k0hGxDM&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and hopefully it shows in my city or the hippie town an hour north so that i can take my own babies and happily nurse one of them during the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-2514316736760953158?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2514316736760953158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/amazing-babies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2514316736760953158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/2514316736760953158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/amazing-babies.html' title='amazing babies'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-7549951391583570942</id><published>2009-12-16T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T22:36:45.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sophie the giraffe may be cute</title><content type='html'>but she doesn't compare to this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SynPpEnjdjI/AAAAAAAAAJM/WKMH2KhaZqs/s1600-h/lodis+card+wallet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416088331410961970" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SynPpEnjdjI/AAAAAAAAAJM/WKMH2KhaZqs/s400/lodis+card+wallet.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;it can stop the meltdown of an eight-month old, instantly. the other day sprout was chewing on my checkbook (again, with the pink leather) but receipts were falling out so i tried to distract him with a wooden teether. he started to cry. i handed him another toy. he cried louder. so i gave him my lodis card wallet since it's saved us from a scream-fest in the car on more than occasion. not only did he stop crying, but he started cooing in delight. i was on the phone with my stepdad at the time and he was thoroughly impressed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;forget the sophie the giraffe stocking stuffer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;lodis. it's what's for christmas&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*CPSIA regulations aside.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-7549951391583570942?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7549951391583570942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/sophie-giraffe-may-be-cute.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7549951391583570942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/7549951391583570942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/sophie-giraffe-may-be-cute.html' title='sophie the giraffe may be cute'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/SynPpEnjdjI/AAAAAAAAAJM/WKMH2KhaZqs/s72-c/lodis+card+wallet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-1607420389917586006</id><published>2009-12-16T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T21:46:51.742-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>nap before breakfast</title><content type='html'>yes, today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sprout is nursing his way to his first nap, as i type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when he awoke early this morning, or earlier than usual, i was so sleepy that i hardly had time to appreciate the fact that he'd take his nap earlier than usual, as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since i rarely soak our oatmeal overnight, i set it to soak about an hour ago and as soon as he's off the boob, pea is going to help me make our breakfast by stirring in honey, coconut oil, and a "little bit of cinnamon and vaniwwa" for our own blend of healthy, oatmeal goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if pea and i had already eaten (i have to get better about this and eat, or at least feed him, upon rising) i might guide him into a game of let's all lay down but there's always hope that we can all get a nap this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for now, i will put sprout on the bed, eat a nourishing breakfast, then play a counting game that pea is eager to play until sprout wakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what a glorious day. and now i will share with you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pea's favorite creamy&amp;amp; sweet oatmeal recipe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 cup old fashioned oats, pre-soaked in 1 1/2 cups water&lt;br /&gt;(overnight is preferred, especially if using steel-cut oats, and reduces cooking time, but soaked for at least an hour is fine)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;add more water, if desired. rice milk is good, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cook on medium-low for a few minutes and stir in the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;as much flaxseed as you feel like grinding&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a heaping spoonful of coconut oil&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a heaping spoonful of raw honey (more or less, to suit your taste)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;as much cinammon (ours is mixed with turbinado sugar) as your child can sprinkle before you worry about sweetness overload&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;kid-approved and dairy free! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-1607420389917586006?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/1607420389917586006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/nap-before-breakfast.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/1607420389917586006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/1607420389917586006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/nap-before-breakfast.html' title='nap before breakfast'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-4950154892154554507</id><published>2009-12-15T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T00:41:57.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>slowing down and giving thanks.</title><content type='html'>yesterday i was struggling to build a box for a rocking horse i sold and needed to ship. the trick was to say within certain parameters because the UPS rate would have nearly doubled if the dimensions increased by an inch in any direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i spent at least three solid hours throughout the day on the project and was nearly in tears with exasperation when the papa came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shortly after his arrival i thought i overheard our three year old pea say, "mama ignored me all day." my heart sank because i had been so focused on getting the rocking horse packed up that he and baby sprout had been banished from the playroom for most of the day, as that was the easiest place to work with a huge cardboard box and sharp instruments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as it turns out, pea really said, "i ate a snowman today," in reference to the chocolate snowman from his advent calendar. i gave a small, silent thanks for his ability to overlook what i felt so bad about and started thinking about how pea, at nearly four years old, probably didn't even feel ignored. i focused my awareness on how i manage my time. or mismanage. i gently reminded myself that i need to slow down from time to time and not get so engaged in tasks that frustrate me, since i'm not very productive once frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i would just slow down, step away, and re-approach the situation once calm, i would save myself a lot of time. i was reaching a point of frustration yet again, so it was a relief when the papa came into the playroom and offered to finish the box for me. i was nearly done but had no desire to keep working on it. of course he did the smart thing and got an actual box cutter and the measuring tape (i couldn't find the box cutter and figured i'd be just as efficient with my x-acto knife and fiskars. wrong.) but it still took him about 20 minutes to construct the last remaining section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i gave another silent thanks, and a verbal one, for not only did he come home in time to rescue me from an utter meltdown but there was still enough time for me to make it to UPS and i didn't have to take the kids! i kissed the boys and papa told me to drive safe. these words are spoken often by those close to me and they really do give me pause so i gave myself another gentle reminder on the way out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was nearly dark but there was no reason to rush. i have to start practicing the art of slowing down when i get in my car, anyhow, as lately i've been slipping the automatic shifter past "drive" and then driving off, not realizing that i'm in third gear. it seems to slide past drive so easily, that i almost wonder if something's wrong with the car itself, but i've also been so hurried lately that i am probably just slipping the shifter out of park too fast. so slow down, i tell myself. breathe. drive safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had some stuff to ship through the post office, as well, but i was too late for the USPS pick-up at the UPS store so i decided to drive to the post office. the parcels weren't too big to fit into the mailboxes outside so i opted for a quick drive-by, rather than parking and getting out. only after i drop my parcels down the chute do i realize the big blue mailbox is open and the wheeled cart that fits inside and collects mail is sitting beside it. so my parcels are likely to get missed. luckily my favorite postman in the area emerges from the truck parked next to the boxes. he sort of reminds me of a cross between santa clause and tommy chong because he's so gosh-darn cheery and calm for a postal worker. and there's the long, gray beard and hippie hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i get out of my car to let him know what i'd done and he jokingly made a big deal about the hassle of crawling in the big blue mailbox to retrieve what i dropped in there. i offered to do it but he said no. i'm not sure why but before i can stop myself, i am explaining to him him that if i'd actually listened to what i'd been telling myself since i left the house i would have slowed down and noticed the open box and the collection cart next to it. he thanked me for the reminder of humility, closed his eyes and formed the &lt;a href="http://health.indianetzone.com/yoga/1/om_mudra_&amp;amp;_smiling_buddha_mudra.htm"&gt;om mudra&lt;/a&gt;, and told me to drive safe. three times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-4950154892154554507?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4950154892154554507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/slowing-down-and-giving-thanks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/4950154892154554507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/4950154892154554507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/slowing-down-and-giving-thanks.html' title='slowing down and giving thanks.'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-376844672699030167.post-5220927633790077847</id><published>2009-12-11T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T09:04:41.248-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>platform</title><content type='html'>earlier this year, i created a &lt;a href="http://blessedboymama.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;. after my third and final son was born and the reality of never having a little girl had fully set in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was intended to be a place for mamas with boys to commune, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;expecially&lt;/span&gt; if they had always had a deep longing in their hearts for a daughter. but it quickly turned into a shallow review blog (no offense to the many wonderful, and successful, review &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bloggers&lt;/span&gt; out there) and i was hard pressed to write anything of substantial value. i found myself saving more drafts than i was sharing because when i got down to the hard work of writing honestly i realized that there's a fine line between empathizing with others in similar situations and just full on complaining about one's lot in life. as time wore on and i looked upon my three sons, i realized that being without a daughter wasn't going to be so bad, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;afterall&lt;/span&gt;, and even though i may not always get what i want, i always have what i need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moving on to new and improved pastures, i am bringing forth life to this blog i created earlier this year, as well. i still intend on using the other blog, but it's direction is unknown. because i do not identify simply as a mother to three boys or a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;daughterless&lt;/span&gt; mother, i decided that wouldn't be my focus as i am now taking steps to take my writing more seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of those steps was ordering a copy of &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Writer-Mama-Writing-Career-Alongside/dp/1582974411/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1260598530&amp;amp;sr=8-1-catcorr"&gt;writer mama&lt;/a&gt;. i was going to read it from start to finish but after two chapters i started skipping here, there, and everywhere. i have reading ADD because i can only read in spurts when someone isn't demanding my attention, lap, arms, boob, or all four at once. tonight i read about the writer's platform and wondered what type of online presence i really wanted to create for myself. i have been keeping an online journal for nearly a decade and i see &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;livejournal&lt;/span&gt; and blogger as two different things, so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; say &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; only "blogged" for two or so years, in various forms. but none of my other blogs really inspire me and my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;livejournal&lt;/span&gt; is less visible. so here i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the blog title may one day be the title of a book i write. or maybe not, but i will write a book, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; certain. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; nowhere near even attempting that here and now but the momentum towards that goal is underway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you may be asking yourself, "what does 'kid-life crisis' even mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is the tug and pull, or the dichotomy, that quite possibly exists within every mother at some point in time but especially when they feel that their need for autonomy is overshadowed by their child(ren)'s dependence on them. it is those moments that old &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;calgon&lt;/span&gt; commercials are made of. it is when you go without brushing your teeth before bed because your baby is attached to you and will wake up the whole house if you put him down. it is when you don't know what's worse: the thought of returning to work when your maternity leave is over and not being with your child for eight hours a day or not returning to work and being with your child all day, every day. it is when you're on the phone and your otherwise wonderful toddler is blowing raspberries in the baby's face and stabbing you in the ear with the bulb syringe (or the "booger snatcher" as it is known as around here). true story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for me it started when i had my first child, at age sixteen. i was still a kid, myself, for all intents and purposes, and i didn't even really like kids. i was definitely sure i didn't want any of my own for a really, really long time. i did not become a first-time parent by choice, but as soon as i took those seven pregnancy tests to confirm what i already knew, there was no choice. though i was young and did not want to be with my son's father, i took full responsibility for my actions and prepared for the task ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, nobody tells you how difficult the task is and you couldn't fully understand it, anyhow, until you're in the middle of it. there were times that i thought i wanted more children, and then there were times i wasn't even sure i wanted the one i had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now i have three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this my platform. my testament to the contradiction that is my beautiful and stressful life. i love my children but for every way i feel blessed, i also feel stretched beyond my means. for every baby kiss i cherish, i am also not interested in playing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;candyland&lt;/span&gt; ever again. i like nursing and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;babywearing&lt;/span&gt; and even typing with one hand, with a twenty pound baby sleeping on my shoulder. but i like typing with two hands better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and one day i will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but for now, i write in the middle of the night and build this.&lt;br /&gt;my platform.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/376844672699030167-5220927633790077847?l=kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5220927633790077847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/platform.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/5220927633790077847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/376844672699030167/posts/default/5220927633790077847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidlifecrisis.blogspot.com/2009/12/platform.html' title='platform'/><author><name>blessed mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03610605216204915312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_U847AQazjPk/S5dE_f5r-TI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FZhQbL-NLko/S220/hot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
