The Fall

So it's finally here:  the postpartum hair loss period.  It's coming out handfuls at a time in the shower and in a steady stream of ones and twos and fours all day long.   Every time I look at my daughters, there is a hair of mine to pluck from their shirts or one to untangle from their fingers.  Today it looked like a vicious one was cutting off the circulation in the little one's pinky toe.  They tickle my back and my arms as they get loose and prepare to fly away -- thank goodness the house will be swept clean tomorrow.  Imagine that my body went through this growing and shedding routine twice in two years.  Seems like it must've taken a lot of energy, no?  Maybe that's why I'm so tired.  Anyway, I've gotten used to my doubly thick mane, but by this time next week, I might look like the baby who gave it to me.

Heaven is...

the first time you hear your new baby laugh.  Michael was cooing at the little one, and she just started giggling.  She sounds just like her big sister.  To die for.

Welcoming Myself Back to Bloggerville

A few things I didn't post about in my absence from you:

1. The Cubbies clinched the NL Central Division.  No, I am not getting excited yet, but I'm a BELIEVER.  Thank GOD my cable package includes WGN, so I could watch the excitement at home!  My dream is to see my dad's face after the Cubbies win the World Series.

2.  We had a great vacation at the beach with my family.  The babies loved being with their Grammie and Grampy and Uncle Stunna.  So did we alleged grown ups.  We got to go on our first date in I-don't-know-how-long -- thanks for the babysitting!  I got to go to yoga four times -- ahhhhhhhh.  I was inspired to met Carmel and Dina and Margie at Yoga Anjali who helped jumpstart my practice out of pre/postnatal boredom.  If you ever have a chance to visit them, do!

3.  The financial crisis:  oh, you mean if you're greedy and get so crazed with it that you lose your sense of balance, it'll probably come back to bite you?  Ummm.  Yeah. 

Considering a VBAC? Having your first and feeling anxious?

Come join Ires Wilbanks and me for the Childbirth Support Group at Shakti. The group is for those interested in vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC) and anyone interested in non-judgemental support during their pregnancies or through the postpartum period.  Run by mothers, for mothers, we will also host guest speakers who are specialists in the birthing community.  It will be the third Sunday of each month, starting Sunday, September 21 from 3 -5 p.m. in the main yoga room.  Bring your baby! Bring a friend!

This group, originally run by Elizabeth and Marta, was a tremendous help to me when I was preparing for my VBAC, so I'm pleased to have a role in its continuation!  

Further information available on the Shakti website.

Math

Here is some scary two-under-two math: two pregnancies in two years = 50 pounds.  What, you say? Didn't you lose the baby weight the first time round?  Well, no, actually, it would be mathematically impossible, since I was pregnant again by the time the big one was just four months old.  So back to the equation:  two pregnancies at 25 pounds each = 50 pounds.  That's heavy. They say 9 months on, 18 months off -- so does that mean that it will take me 36 months (3 years) to be somewhere in the vicinity of the weight at which I started?  Daunting, to say the least.  I've been thinking about this for a couple of days now, and I still can't quite wrap my brain around it.  

Reds 4, Cubs 3

Kerry Wood blows a save (with the help of Ronny Cedeno booting what should have been a simple double play ball to win the game), and the Cubs sorry streak continues.  Two errors in the bottom of the ninth?  A closer walking batters and giving up hits?  Sigh. Vintage Chicago Cubs. This is why we don't get excited in April, May, June, July or August.  It's just too early, especially if you've waited one hundred years to win a World Series.  I remember feeling this way when I was first pregnant with my older daughter.  That turned out okay, so maybe I should be hopeful?  

Baby Proofing II

As I nursed the little one, the big one came over to me and handed me one of the outlet covers. Hmmmm -- more proof. 

Don't waste your vote

This morning on the news, I listened to a disgruntled Hillary Clinton supporter say that she may vote for John McCain or not vote at all because she has been so hurt by the Democratic party's process.  Look, I understand that she is upset that her candidate didn't get the nomination (this time), and I agree with her wholeheartedly that the DNC needs to overhaul its process so that we don't have such a long, drawn-out, divisive primary season in elections to come.  But she -- and any other HRC supporters out there considering the same -- have to listen to Hillary herself.  You have much more in common with Barack Obama than you have with John McCain and his ultra-conservative running mate Sarah Palin.  Unless you have suddenly become pro-life, pro-gun, pro-drilling in protected lands, anti-sex education, believe that the war in Iraq is God's work and want a president who has voted with George W. Bush 90% of the time, you have to support Barack Obama, just like Hillary does.  Don't you remember the last two elections and how close they were?  Hillary Clinton has urged you to make sure we put a Democrat in the White House this November, and I beg you to do the same by showing up to vote for the person the DNC has put forth as its candidate.  Get involved in the DNC. Write Howard Dean nasty letters about the process that upset you so.  But for goodness' sake, don't waste your vote.

Baby Proofing

Yeah, sure, we have the requisite outlet covers and baby gates to protect our little ones.  We even have some nifty cabinet locks, which keep them away from the nasty items under the kitchen sink which seem to work well and oven locks for the two doors of our 1956 Roper range -- oh wait, we haven't installed those yet.

Thankfully, Josephine didn't start out this lovely Wednesday by putting her head in the oven. Even Sylvia would want her to wait longer.  She did however, select as her first toy of the morning, a bottle of yellow food coloring.  Yep, you guessed it, the kitchen floor is yellow.  Josephine's jammies have yellow spots all over them.  Her hands and feet are yellow -- as are mine.  Lucy was spared, thankfully.  How would I ever explain two yellow-dyed babies?

You're probably thinking that this episode inspired me to close the pantry door and keep a closer eye on my young toddler.  Well, the pantry door is closed.  

Less than an hour later, while I nursed the little one, I see the big one playing with the tiny -- virtually useless -- drawer on an end table in our living room.  When I ask her to come to Mama, what do I pull from her mouth?  A screw.  Great.  She also has in her hands the rest of her bounty from the drawer:  two boxes of matches and a battery.  Since I've taken the screw away, the battery is the next best item on which to chew.  Mmmmm.  Yummy.   The matches?  They are nothing more than little rattles -- the little wood sticks make a great shaky noise in the cardboard box.

Why are these items randomly stored in this end table drawer?  Just the haphazardness of our pre-parenting days, I suppose.  Most of our dangerous items reside well out of the reach of little hands nowadays, even if it is a pain in the neck for us.  But baby proof?  The only real proof here is that children are never as safe as you'd like them to be, that something always lurks.  There is only so much control we can have -- we have to hold on loosely and guide as best we can, hoping that we've at least taken away the most hazardous hazards and that our children will learn how to keep themselves safe.  

For an interesting view on the idea of control and how it applies to parenting and politics, read my friend DoulaMomma's blog from yesterday.  And if you don't read her blog regularly, you should!