August 2005

I was chatting with my sister today, who's' a doctor, and her husband the plastic surgeon and probing about the various things they see and do in their jobs. I feel so un-educated: labial reductions, butt cheek implants, hello! Where have i been?
The topic switched to women and how they act at their physical exams and, well how they look. I have noticed lots of talk here and there about Brazilian waxing. So, i asked my sister. She said that five years ago very few women waxed it all off and when they did they were embarrassed at their appointments with her. But, now… 70% of her patients have the pubic full monty.
So, i'm feeling curious and a little horrified at the state of my girly parts. She did say that she sees lots of women who have folliculitis from waxing. Icky. I do shave my bikini line and often it gets irritated.
So ladies, what's the scoop? Come out of hiding and tell me your stories. Are 70% of you doing the Brazilian?

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All is well. We had a little ceremony today and we buried Charlie in a "peaceful" (as much as one exists in a house of four kids and two dogs) place in our yard. Eliza was very sad and i took the opportunity to talk about death and dyiing. It was good and nice and real. I know it all seems silly for a chicken, but we really care about our chickens – they are pets as much as our dogs are.
My sister and her kids are visiting and i have taken many photos with my new camera, have i mentioned how i love it, cause i love it so… Anyway pictures can be seen on flickr.
I am amazed at how different siblings can be, i see it in my own kids; but me and my sister – night and day. My sister is a worrier and completely OCD, literally. She can't handle my house and my kids. She literally thinks that we are disgusting, in a loving kind of way. People often come to my house and comment "i can't believe how clean you keep your house with four kids…" but, my sister, she makes me feel like shit. Like the shittiest mother in the world. My kids are happy kids, messy yes, but happy. And i am cool with that. Yet, it's amazing how a sister can make you feel like shit about your lifestyle choices.
My mom, who happens to be hear too, even stayed behind when we went to the logging museum and cleaned the whole house for me. Fucking excellent. She could feel my stress. Is there anything better than someone else cleaning your house? I really don't think there is. I once had house cleaners for awhile and despite strangers inspecting my dainty's it was the best of times.
I really have not much to say as i am still dragging my ass in sleep deprivation. But, Parker is climbing down from the ledge of crazy nursing mom pushed too far, and weaning is again in sight. As is his second birthday baby.

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Chickens!

That would be their chicken eating grins. Lucy and Doodle, along with my moms two equally benign looking miniature schnauzures, Molly and Chloe, turned into a veritable dog pack tonight. What did they do?
they killed my rooster, Charlie.
sob. sob. sob.
Charlie was a good fellow. He loved his little brood of hens, he cocka-doodle-dooed every morning bright and early, did little chicken dances for the ladies and alerted all to hawks and owls (somewhat successfully).
Fitting that i also watched the last Six feet Under tonight. I have lost many friends.
Charlie 2004-August 22, 2005

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After a wonderful and relaxing weekend without three of my children I feel as though my mother self has climbed down off the ledge of a damn long summer. School starts in two short weeks and in a way I am a little sad to wrap it all up.
Did I really just say that?
I am really enjoying the lazy mornings; not rushing my children out of the house, bleary eyed, to school.
That's about it though. In actuality, bring it on. Oh dear school come and sweep my children up.
I can say it time and again; being a mom is tough work. I was thinking last night how we all have these incredibly draining hardships in our lives, whether they be physical, emotional or just the worry that something will happen to one of our loved ones, or worrying about doing it right, or just plain worry.
I have been blessed with children that require a lot of worrying; whether it be Toby's speech or Eliza's allergies and asthma. I try not to bitch on about my own particular sob story. I know that we all have them and focusing on the self.jpgty just makes me sad. It doesn't help me to cope or adjust or lead a good life. Sometimes though the worry is too much. It envelopes me in a fog that i can't see clearly through. It makes my life a long slow trudge.
What the hell am i talking about? I am sort of lost in a post-vacation melt down I think.
But, damn they're so cute. These kids of mine.
In other news I think this whole post could be explained by one thing: extreme sleep deprivation. Since the summer 2005 stomach flu Parker has become a renewed nursing champion. Awake every, hmmm, 20 minutes – all night long! Add onto that various nightmares, ailments, late night blogging and I am tired. Fucking tired.
Goal for this week: get Parker weaned, or at the very least close to weaned. Get happy, have fun, bake cookies and sleep.

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