Archive for the 'me' Category

Meme time! 7 lists of 8 things

8 things I am passionate about
My kids
My husband
Equality/Human rights issues
The power of travel to solve the world’s misunderstandings

8 Things I want to do before I die
Be kind to others
Share myself wholly with those I love
See my kids blossom into whatever their hearts tell them is their path
Live for a while in another country (Yes, yes, I shamelessly stole Dan’s answer, but it would have made the list anyway)
Achieve inner peace, if only for a moment
Learn to speak a foreign language (maybe British?)
Learn to play guitar
Write a book
8 Things I say often
I can’t understand it when you use your whiny voice.  Can you say that again in your normal voice?
Stop hitting your brother/sister!
Everybody calm down…
Let’s take some nice, deep breaths… (Actually I say this both as a parent and as a doula)
You’ve already used up all your screen time today. (to Connor)
No, It’s never not okay to play with the chapstick on the carpet. (to Siena)
Let’s all just start over today, okay?
So…what time do you think you’ll be home today?  (To my husband)

8 books I have read recently
Hypnobirthing (Marie Mongan)
When Survivors Give Birth (Penny Simkin and Phillis Klaus)
Birthing From Within (Pam England)
Eat, Pray, Love (Elizabeth Gilbert)
The Doula Book (Klaus, Kennell and Klaus)
The Birth Partner (Penny Simkin)
Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth (Ina May Gaskin)
Pregnancy, Childbirth and the Newborn (Penny Simkin)
(I do read about other things than birth – really I do!  I love fiction…just haven’t had a lot of moments to lose myself in a story lately.  But it’s in the works, once I finish my stack of birth books on the nightstand.)

8 songs I could listen to over and over again
Closer to Fine – Indigo Girls
Aluminum – Barenaked Ladies
Landslide – Fleetwood Mac
American Idiot – Green Day
Silent All These Years – Tori Amos
Revolution – The Beatles
The Distance – Cake
Carolina Blues – Blues Traveler
What’s the Matter Here – 10000 Maniacs
8 Things that attract me to my best friends
Sense of fun
Quick Wit
Sense of humor
Common interests
Divergent interests

8 people who should totally do this meme


the other Kristina
the other AmericanMum


Things I have been told this month that I already knew…

…but they hurt/helped (or both) anyway.

I am too hard on myself.

I don’t know when to quit.

My actions at times tend to set off a pretty messy chain of events.

People are lucky to have me.

I’m lucky to have people.

I need to let some things go.

People talk and perception matters more than the truth sometimes.

I need to accept that some people can’t fill my needs right now.

I need to either learn to accept rejection or stop looking for inclusiveness in people who are unwilling to give it to me.

It is not my fault.

I need to stop letting people put blame on me for things that were out of my control.

I need to accept responsibility for my actions.

I need to forgive myself.

I am remarkably self-aware.

If I stay in the moment, I will never go wrong.

Some people just don’t know what they need from me right now.

I need to move on.

I can’t keep punishing myself for bad decisions I have made in the past.

I’m just starting out on an exciting journey of self-discovery.

Pretending I’m famous for 15 minutes

Dan from Cafe Leone tagged anyone in his blogroll that hadn’t done the “Inside the Actors Studio” meme – the one that you answer Bernard Pivot’s questionnaire.  I might be one of the only people in the world who truly loves that show.  I wonder if it is still on the air?

As an aside, don’t you hate it when the actors pretend that they have to think about their answers to these questions?  Like they didn’t have them picked out weeks, or possibly years, before.  Is it just an excuse to do a little acting?

1. What is your favorite word?
I have to pick just one?  How about autodidact?

2. What is your least favorite word?

Frothy.  It is hard to say and usually refers to something disgusting.  My mouth even feels like it gets all frothy trying to say it.  That, or satchel.  Just ask my mom for the backstory on that one.

3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually, or emotionally?
When people naturally seek out and find the goodness in humanity and themselves.

4. What turns you off?

Racism, homophobia, sexism, and jokes at anyone else’s expense.
5. What is your favorite curse word?
I don’t swear often – but am known to curse when I really need to get my point across.  There is something about a female blond pacifist dropping the f-bomb in a business meeting.  It gets results.

6. What sound or noise do you love?
My father used to say, “Listen. Did you hear that kids?  Quieter.  Yes, there it is.  The sound of nothing.  Isn’t it the best sound you have ever heard?”  We thought he was just weird.  At this point in my life, I tend to agree with him.  If I had to pick an actual sound, it would have to be the breeze blowing through some tall evergreens.  In a quiet forest.  Do you see a theme here?

7. What sound or noise do you hate?
“Play the drum, everyone, play the drum!”

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Midwifery.  I bet you never saw that one coming…

9. What profession would you not like to do?
I hope I never have to go back to my former life in marketing communications.  Writing, strategizing (is that a word? Strategery!)  and creating for the sole purpose of making people buy something does not make my soul feel good.  You are especially good at marketing if you can get people to buy something they wouldn’t actually desire had you have not done your job.


Recently through a series of serendipitous clicks, I came across a group of blogs owned by women that I believe live in my town.  They seem to be friends and believe in many of the philosophies and principles and dreams that I believe.  I have no idea who these women are by name or face.  But I do know that they are introspective, loving, brave, REAL women.  And it makes me sad.  Sad because I don’t know them.  (I’m not going to share links here because I share where I live and as far as I can tell on their blogs they do not.)

I’ve always used blogging as a way of connecting to people who have similar minds and ideals to me as in my actual life this is sorely lacking.  I have mentioned that where I live I feel quite isolated philosophically.  This place is conservative; I am liberal.  This place is religious; I am spiritual.  They are literal where I am figurative.  This place is a dry wasteland and I mourn the loss of green and growth and water and earth and life between my fingers and toes.

The funny thing is that on the surface I tend to blend in here.  We have plenty of friends – good friends whom I dearly love – but most who I have very little in common with truly.  I just keep it on the surface with them and everything is okay.  I wear makeup and curl my hair to look somewhat “normal”.  I don’t discuss politics or religion or my somewhat attachment parenting ways like a good citizen.  But I only wear makeup because I’m afraid of showing my true face, flaws and beauty and all.  I rarely discuss controversial subjects because I’m afraid they’ll burn me at the stake if I told them what I really think.   When I do share a part of me, I let my friends mock my attempts at environmentalism and political justice and anti-consumerism and at, well, the core of who I am, and I laugh along with them.  I feel that if I just got out of my own way, I could shine.

But I am afraid.

Fear, I realize, dominates my flaws in my life.  I rarely attempt to make new friendships or fix broken relationships for fear of rejection.  The little girl voice in the back of my head stops me.  She’s the one that was picked last in sports teams.  She remembers sitting on her three-speed at the top of the neighborhood hill with a tear-streaked face while her friend walked across the street to play with their other friend, right after she had she had mad up some lie and told me I needed to go home.  The voice tells me, “Sure, you seem normal for a little while, but watch what happens when people get to know you better.”

I’m even afraid in God’s rejection.  Back in high school, I became obsessed with the fact that I wasn’t baptised.  My family had chosen to let me make my own decision religion and wanted me to make that choice as an adult.  (A choice I thank them for.)  But I couldn’t help believing that clean water could wash me of all my flaws and make me whole and good.  I didn’t get baptised to be able to marry my Catholic husband in the church as many people believe – I did it because I was afraid if I didn’t I would suffer – now and for eternity, I suppose.

As it turns out, I still suffer even though I’ve been washed clean.  I’m afraid to admit to friends or family that it doesn’t matter to me one iota of Jesus really was the Son of God or what the Bible says about doing this or not doing that.  I’m afraid to admit that while yes, I do believe in a higher power because I can hear it, sense it, and am part of it, I am a lot more spiritual than truly religious.  I’m afraid to stand up for much of what I believe about the evils of war or the joy of unhindered birth or the beauty in any kind of real love between two people – or take action besides blogging here where nobody reads or cares – because I don’t want people to see the me that I think will turn them off.

After coming to these conclusions about myself and fear, I made myself do a brave thing.  I put myself out there and am feeling quite exposed.  I left a comment or two on those blogs of the women in my town.  Will they think I am some kind of weird freakish stalker (I’m not) or desperate (I might be)?  Will they find me interesting? Boring? Self-indulgent?  Afraid?  Pitiful?  (God, this post certainly is.)  Will they find me at all?  Can I find me?

I don’t know, but I’ll keep trying with all of my heart.

7 Things about me

Dan from All That Comes With It tagged me with a meme. I’ve mentioned before that I actually love to do memes – my low self-esteem side gets to feel all warm and fuzzy and included, while the overinflated part of my ego gets to talk about myself. It truly is a perfect situation for me, really. (Dan – psychoanalize that, would you?)

What’s even more perfect is that I’ve been at a loss lately about what to post. It’s not that I have nothing interesting going on in my life at the moment – actually I’ve been quite busy. I had my last postnatal visit with my first doula client where it was hard to say goodbye. I have two new doula clients and two strong nibbles, however due to confidentiality issues I won’t be talking about them here unless they agree to it in writing (and I actually get the nerve up to tell them about my blog). We’ve also been quite busy with swimming lessons which is another post all to itself. The garden is producing a bit of vegetables, and sadly, even taller weeds, and I’d like to get out there and take some pictures for a post in all it’s weedy glory. Finally preschool is about to start up again and I’m about to go to Seattle with the girls for a showing of Young Frankenstein on the stage, so I’m sure there are posts that will come out of that. But for the moment, I’ve got to deal with blogstipation and have faith that it will work its way out naturally as it always does.

But the posts above take real work. Coming up with seven things to tell about myself? For this narcissistic? No problem.

1. After an MRI, I learned that all cartilage in my right hip is completely shattered and in 10 years or so I will need replacement hip surgery. That will make me about 44 years old. So in ten years if you find yourselves in the Tri-Cities in Washington State at the grocery store and you come across a middle-aged woman with a walker trying to reach the Kashi cereal, hand it down to me, would you? Thanks.

2. My major personality flaws include but are in no means limited to a talent for saying exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time, over-analyzing most everything, over-thinking situations in which feelings might be hurt by me (but somehow overlooking the most obvious way), and the inability to look someone in the eyes while I am talking to them so as not to see any judgment on their face. Now don’t you want me as your doula?

3. As a youngster of about 8 years old I swallowed a penny while diving for coins in the backyard pool. I got to ride in the front seat in the ambulance and honk the horn all the way to the hospital.

4. I have never had an ice cream headache.

5. My butt crack tweaks to the right at the very top. It has since the day I was born. In fact, my parents asked about it immediately after my birth to verify I was normal. Unfortunately doctor’s can’t predict a normal personality from a baby’s butt crack.

6. If Rich kisses one side of my elbow joint then the other, he must kiss it in the middle or I have to rub it for a minute or so. He often uses this obsessive-compulsive tick of mine to his advantage.

7. My brother learned to swim before I did, even though he is 2 1/2 years my younger. This made me furiously jealous and I swam for the first time about 30 seconds after hearing the news.

Alright – I’ve never tagged anyone before…let’s see. I tag kkblaze, myallusions (you didn’t think you were going to get away with letting your blog slide unnoticed into oblivion, did you?) and needs new batteries.

Bad times and good friends

Yesterday was a bad day.  Not only did I find out that Rich would need to be taking extra responsibilities at work but I injured myself badly in the most asinine way possible.  I hurt my rib coughing when I felt and heard a “pop”.  My guess, after googling and being an annoyingly misinformed patient I’m sure, is that I have “slipped rib syndrome”.  It hurts like @#!$!#@! like it must be broken, but it is not and I am basically laid up on the couch on ibuprofin for a few days.  The fact that it is not broken was verified from my OB friend who made a house call on his way to work (I realize that my rib is quite a ways away from my vagina, but he’s much more qualified than I am, no?).  Thanks so very much Dr. M, and sorry I wasn’t able to express my sincere thanks while I was standing close to tears in my own living room with your hand up my shirt.

Speaking of friends who go over and above to take care of me when I am down, I am also so grateful for the friends who, when I called to cancel playgroup at my house that afternoon, took Connor off my hands for most of the day.  They also called to check up on me today and are taking him to swim class this morning.   So Annette, Tia and Lisa – thank you so much.  Let’s try for playgroup again soon.

Why do I blog?

I had a particularly nasty comment (my first real “flame” in internet-land! A milestone!) on one of my posts a bit ago, and was over-analyzing myself over it (those that know me well are not surprised, I’m sure). She (I just get the feeling she was a “she” although it was an anonymous comment) had me pegged as a self-absorbed yuppie, “shop till you drop” kind of girl, which is so far from the truth it is laughable. However, there was maybe a 10% truth hidden in that comment somewhere…I think although I still agree with everything I wrote in that post, I do think perhaps it was too soon to start looking for answers about why the attacks happened and I got too political too soon. My post on retrospect read like I was saying that the Virginia Tech shooter would not have felt the need to kill if he had just recycled and bought a hybrid car. Ugh.

Anyway, it got me thinking about why I blog. I do actually appreciate comments like that because they force me to look at myself and help me grow as a person. And self-reflection is the biggest thing I get out of blogging. Which is probably the biggest thing all bloggers share, I think, so I’ll skip the explanation on that one.

But the main reason I blog is that I get to engage parts of my personality that are usually starving in my real life. I live in a conservative part of my state and I do not share many political beliefs with most of my in-town friends and family members. Often in my real life I have to keep my mouth shut about current events and other things as my almost complete disagreeance of everything they just said wouldn’t make polite conversation. I do have exceptions in some friendships – I have a close friend who is liberal but she is about to move to Portland. 😦 I have other conservative friends who don’t mind listening to what I believe and why although I’m kind of seen as a hippy-dippy in that particular group and that makes me the butt of many a well-meaning joke. So I have found that on my blog I can have political conversations with myself and with other bloggers who think in similar ways. Even (especially?) bloggers who have different views than I do make me think and it seems that in blog-land we can really open ourselves up and not only say what we think but why. I love that.

Some of you know that I had another blog before this one. It’s a convoluted story of why I started this one instead frought with paranoia and schizophrenic thinking, but I’ll try to sum up as best as I can because it is an important part of the story of why I blog.  I started my old blog anonymously and then later attached my name to it. I “came out” because I decided that while on my old blog I felt freer to talk about things that were pretty intimate to say the least, I don’t like to stand behind a wall while I blog. But then the reality of all the intimate stuff hit me and then the possible move to England came along, and I thought, “what a perfect time to start a fresh blog – do it right from the beginning and do all the things I wished I had done on the old one.” WordPress was part of that as was actually inviting real-life friends and family into the conversation. It turns out that some of them had found me anyway but had assumed I wanted my privacy so were respecting that by not telling me they knew about my blog (but still were reading it LOL). On this blog, I sent out a link on my Christmas email letter as at the time it was about 99% sure we were moving to England in about 2 months and this blog was going to be a place to update family and friends. Although that hasn’t (yet) happened and the blog has taken a different turn at least for the moment, my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins and long-time friends all know about this place and I know some of them read, although rarely comment. (Um, people?  I have Statcounter which tells me where the latest visitors of my blog came from – if I know only one person in your town, I know that it’s probably you.  Comment!  I don’t bite.)  I really like that I can share pieces of my true self here with people who matter most in my life – it means they know me more authentically. (I just wish they all had blogs too so I could know them more authentically as well.) My blog is a great way to expose myself (no, not THAT way) and people can choose to read or not to read it. And I don’t have to see the disapproval on their faces if they disagree with me. 😉

I do miss my old blog, though, as on that one I really just let it all hang out.  But much of what I wrote about was more intimate than I would share with typical family members.  None of my uncles or cousins really want to read about my first experience with sex after a vaginal hysterectomy, I am sure.  At the time I was writing a lot about birth as I was on the precipice of starting to take classes to become a doula or childbirth educator.  Now I’ve sort of put that whole idea on hold just because of the possible international move.  I put up a breastfeeding, sex or birth post occasionally this blog, but not from a first-person perspective.  I miss that rawness and openness, but I like the sharing with real-life friends even more, it seems, and I don’t want to chase them away.

I also blog because it exercises my adult brain. As a stay-at-home mom, parts of my intellectual brain are not always used (although there are many things like discipline that exercise my brain pretty well). I do miss much about my old career in marketing – things like putting a product launch together, for example, engaged me creatively. And I miss writing. Blogging allows me to write with short spurts of my free time. Writing keeps my brain tuned up as it nourishes my soul.

So why do you blog?

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