A couple of weeks ago, I took my 6-year-old and 9-year-old to a Weezer concert. We had so much fun, dancing and singing to the songs we love. It was my first time seeing Weezer, and for both boys (barring my 9-year-old's Sting concert at 11-months-old) it was their first show. It is definitely something we want to do again.
We are in the middle of a move. It is hard to wade through seven years of accumulated stuff, and there is a reason moving is one of those challenges that can help set a person into a depression. On the good side, our new place is bigger with more room; on the bad side, it is a new place, and there are a lot of kinks to work out, such as no available DSL/cable, no known address for the Post Office, and the usual rash of new-house-issues that we, as the first occupants, get to discover. It is an adventure, to say the least!
Seeing the pregnant person working so hard to bring their baby out? Making noises that seem more appropriate coming from a howler monkey instead of a human? Watching things that maybe one has only seen on Discovery Health Channel through half-closed eyes? The blood, sweat, and tears of it all? Does that answer your question?
I picked this book up in my favorite used bookstore here in Chico, aptly called, "The Bookstore." I was familiar with the Leonard Cohen song, but as I read I realized I hadn't truly absorbed the words. Being pulled towards things that have to do with mothers, babies, and birth, I fell in love with the book. Not only are the words appropriate to so many birth stories, coupled with Matisse pictures, the treasure comes alive in your hands.
The excitement that surrounds an expectant parent starts building as soon as the good news is shared. As their burgeoning belly grows so does attention from others. Baby’s arrival brings relatives, friends, and neighbors…at first. But as the much-awaited birth comes and goes, so do the people. Often this can leave a new parent feeling isolated, tired, and depressed.
Q. What is your feeling about taking clients that have the same due date?
The first thing that I'd want to do...
I have a theory about why birthing people can bond so strongly to those on their care team, and could you guess, I think it's all about the oxytocin? Whether it's the connection to an excellent provider, or the attachment to a provider who treated my client terribly -- I blame oxytocin.
The woman doing the promoting said their product was a synthetic of oxytocin, which in the birth world we know as pitocin or syntocin, so naturally I wondered if that is actually what they are using? If so, maybe they are just getting hold of the bags they use in the hospital all the time? Heck, I might be willing to swipe a bag, saturate my clothes, and see if I strike it rich in money or love!
Okay, technically I have to say (in disclaimer mode) I have already struck it rich in love. Ahem. But money, on the other hand -- the verdict is still out on that one.
I am an avid blood-donor -- when the Bloodmobile shows up, I am out there, ready to give away a pint of my blood for a $5 coupon to the movies. If this company is interested, I would be willing to offer my own oxytocin for sale -- why not!? As a nursing mother I should have plenty to spare. Perhaps I will contact them and see if they are interested. After all, I am a cheap date!
Additional fascinating facts about oxytocin:
-The Two Faces of Oxytocin
-Hug the Monkey
-Breastfeeding Trust Hormone Clue
Well at least my Spiderman. More like Spiderbaby. I wish my camera hadn't died yesterday or I would take an evidential picture. My Spiderbaby is nursing as I type this.right.now.
Jonas decided to wear his Spiderman outfit today -- you know, sometimes your alter-ego needs to come spend a leisurely Saturday at home, all suited up and ready for respite. It looked smashing with his black cloggy-crocky sandals.
Having three boys around, we get a lot of dress-up (wonder if there is a more masculine term for that -- fierce-pretend-costuming?) around here. Some days we have one or two Batmans. Occasionally a Robin. An appearance by Dark Lord of the Sith Himself, Darth Vader, isn't unusual, generally wanting help with shoe-tying or locating his Crayolas, (you know how hard it is to find stuff when you have a mask on your face). We have been surprised by a visit by the Red Power Ranger, a Little Green Man (Toy Story), and a werewolf. Periodic other guests have been a well-dressed (and dare I say well-behaved!) knight, sans sword (hey, it's a sad story, but it's safer this way), an army guy, an alligator (maybe a crocodile, it's hard to tell what kind of snout that is, being made of cloth), and various caped crusaders.
I heard a story once about a girl who competed in pageants. She had a lovely crown to show for her achievements. She told her college roommate, "Sometimes I have days where I just feel like wearing my tiara. I bring down the box, unpack the tiara, and place it on my head -- immediately life seems better." Her roommate, being about the furthest thing from a girl who would ever enter a pageant (not for looks, more philosophy and interests), seemed to really understand that. The roommate nodded slowly, and the girls bonded. Or perhaps the roommate was hypnotized by all those sparkling jewels...
Regardless, the need to cast off or cast aside our regular, everyday personalities and assume something more interesting, something more grand, mysterious, extravagant, and super-heroish, probably lives in us all. As the mom of four boys, two almost fully-grown up and now away at college, they have all had days like this.
Here's to our inner Superheros! Long may those capes wave!
-Good for Bats...and Birds!
-Cosplayers Use Costumes to Evoke Their Inner Strengths
-Benefits of Playing Dress-Up for Kids
It's always a good feeling when you get to save the day. Today my oldest was putting together a model of a Mini Cooper and he lost a main piece. He was upset already because his baby brother was trying to get in on the action of putting the car together, and naturally my oldest thought my youngest was to blame for the missing part.
♥ four young boys and a boy dog (offspring)