it wasn't *BlogHer* but it was MY kind of cool... part 2

Ok, I'll confess that the first ridiculous/obnoxious thing I did at the conference was on Wednesday afternoon when I went to the volunteers' meeting at Reed. (in case you're wondering, I took MAX and then a bus to get there from where I live in Beaverton) I had El Niño in the panel Kozy and Kelley Mason, the wonderful mamma who sewed it, was pretty much at the door when I arrived. She hugged me right away and we chatted like old friends. Then my friend Lori came down the stairs and suprised me! She's visiting from UAE and we'd kept missing one another while she was in town. Our whole group of volunteers and visitors toured the gorgeous Reed campus and went over some last minute stuff for the conference. Then everyone went around, drooling over everyone else's "stash" and I asked Kelley if I could go in her room & pet all the Kozys she'd brought! My uncivilized behavior went downhill from there...

Thursday was amazing, to be surrounded by babywearing mammas, to see so many different & beautiful kinds of carriers all in one place (even an Amautik that night during the first fashion show meeting!). I've never experienced this before -- I just recently joined the Portland NINO group and haven't yet been to a meeting -- so it was quite exciting and strangely comforting for me, like I was in a happy dream that I didn't want to wake up from. It felt like I was finally among my own kind. I was discussing it with Mo that night on the way home (on the bus), that it felt great to walk around during breaks and see lots of people -- moms AND dads -- meandering while they wore and snuggled their babes, and to see mammas happily and comfortably nursing everywhere. Ahhhhhhh, if only this was such a normal sight to see in the general population! I've been told that babywearing & NIP is a much more common sight in the NE and SE neighborhoods of Portland but where I live on the West side it's very rare. Oh, and to top off my day, Lori surprised me by giving us a beautiful batik embroidered FreeHand MeiTai, which my honeys napped in on Saturday.

This conference was an awesome opportunity to meet babywearing celebrities (like Maria Blois, author of Babywearing: The Benefits and Beauty of this Ancient Tradition) and many mammas who are starting their businesses and will likely be very successful in the next few years. There were also literally tons of carriers to see, touch and compare (we affectionately refer to them as fluffies, BTW). I'm overwhelmed, exhausted and excited all at the same time. I loved being there... it was still like a dream by day three. Even my normally-shy & reserved husband was chatting with everyone and having a great time. I met so many wonderful mammas and their kids. I learned so much. It's really hard to describe just how it feels to have this kind of opportunity, to learn about the creative process that goes into each person's sling design, to learn about the highs and lows of having a business (how many times did I hear one or another of them say that they wished they could give more carriers away and that they didn't get into this to make money but to spread the love?), to watch them be clumsy, creative, silly, clever, witty, loving, frazzled... to hold and love on so many other people's kids. I held so many babies I thought my uterus would figure out a way to self-pollinate! Oy!!!

OMG, did you *know* how gorgeous ChicKen ScRatch RingSlings are??? I must be living in a cave or something because I just hadn't realized it, and I don't even care for ring slings, seriously. But I'd volunteered to help at Along for the Ride's booth in the exhibit hall on Saturday and got to see and pet several of them up close. I think Kristen Gallagher (the owner) thought I was being really helpful and nice by staying at her booth to help as long as I did but I just really wanted to be close to all those prettyful slings she was selling! As Lori would say: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Kristen thanked me at the end of the day with a Brown Velveteen Hotsling that I just can't stop touching or looking at. I'll post pictures of my two new carriers soon... But I can't say enough how special it was to help people find a carrier they loved and were comfortable in.

We had a fashion show on Saturday night (sponsored by EllaRoo) and I think all the manufacturers tried to show off at least a few new products/colorways at the show. I'd volunteered all my guys to model but Hyde came back from Camp with an injured leg and had to stay home. Then Kelley asked me to model one of her panel Kozys, and I was honored. Of course, I had to say yes because she was asking. (I have a whole other post to write on the subject of me modeling) In addition to carriers, we had nursing clothes that had been donated for the show, so I got two tops out of that. One of them was multistriped and didn't match any of the carriers, so it was decided that I'd just walk out on stage with my boy in arms, tilt him sideways and nurse. All I could think about when I heard that were my mother's and Mo's mom's reactions if they knew: they'd be horrified!!! The show was chaotic backstage, and made me think of Dutch at BlogHer, since Mo and Kelley's husband got to see a lot of half-naked women running around backstage, trying to keep the show going at a nice clip by tossing off clothes and carriers before putting on the next ensemble. It was fun to get a sneak peek at some things that aren't yet available for purchase. There was the EllaRoo Extra Fino Rebozo that had a beautiful sheen to the fabric; I didn't get to pet it because I only ever saw it on Charlie Mason (of the Kozy Masons; I make it a point to never caress other women's husbands). But it looked really nice and soft, and the dark/light grays in it made it look very sophisticated. I really liked the contrast of browns in the new Moby-D too, very earthy and warm (much nicer IRL than in pictures). *sigh* There were so many beautiful carriers!!! (have I said that already?) The colors & pattern of the EllaRoo Selendang were rich, and I was surprised that it didn't have a "wrong" side to it. I really wanted Mo to wear that one too and was bummed that he couldn't because El Niño was having a meltdown. He did get to model the new bECO XO, he was actually the perfect model for it because at 6'5" 285lbs, he's exactly the kind of user it was designed for. Not only that but he loves it for its comfort and ease of use, so we'll be getting one soon. Gabby Caperon, the designer/CEO behind the bECO and Ecobabies, modeled one of the Fall Collection Hotslings, a (crocheted?) turquoise lace overlay on navy cotton sateen.* Yum! I want this one sooooo badly. And Kristi Hayes of Gypsy Mama was probably one of the biggest hits of the evening, since she not only modeled the most amount of carriers including the Amautik (I need to get her permission to post those pics) but at one point her toddler was so sick of going out on stage that she told him it would be a game and he should run towards her onstage... which he did, and she ran towards him, caught him, and wrapped him on her back so fast everybody was talking about it for the next two days (and he was laughing). The woman can wrap, and we have a huge crush on her. In fact, we were crushing on her so hard that at one point I was worried she'd think we wanted her to become our "sister wife" (and no, we're not into that). She's just another truly awesome, creative, funny woman & mamma that we were lucky to spend time with this weekend.

Ok, I need to go to bed so I'm just gonna mention a couple of other things that got my attention: the white Nori vest made out of solarveil fabric; it isn't up on their site yet, only the WindPro fleece one is. I think it's supposed to be a swimsuit coverup-type piece of clothing. Regardless, their fleece vest is definitely worth checking out. The MOM Tai with hydration pack; the water pack is stored in a cargo-type pocket on the back of the carrier and it holds 50oz; I've wanted something like this so many times! And then there's Rebecca of maMa by Design who makes beautiful carriers and bags, as soon as I can afford to I'm getting her to make a OOAK custom diaper bag to fit all my (neurotic) requirements. And her MeiTai has a very creative design twist to it that allows for the child's legs to be strapped in to the carrier, making it easier to put on, switch positions, and take off safely. My favorite of the ones she had for sale at the exhibit hall was the fairy-print fabric one w/ detachable fairy wings (for your tot to wear) that was absolutely adorable! I was very impressed with her designs and creativity.

A huge thank you to Jennifer Rosenberg (and her very supportive husband Andrew, daughters and parents) for this major undertaking in making the conference happen. And to Über-volunteers Kristine, Arwyn, Kelly, Nichol and Leslie for EVERYTHING. Also to Alison for lending me her adorable 3yo son so I could model a panel Kozy in the fashion show when my own child was having a complete meltdown. It was so sweet, he fell asleep on me before I even got him in the Kozy!!!

We didn't get to go on Sunday, Mo & El Niño apparently caught a cold and I twisted my ankle after the fashion show. It was so hard to say goodbye to everyone on Saturday night. I will definitely make the effort to go to the next conference in two years, wherever it is (probably the East Coast).

* as an aside, I wanted to add that if I'd been the right size -- a 3, I'm a 4 -- Kristen DeRocha (the woman who owns and designs Hotslings) would've given me the sling... Yeah, these women are THAT nice! This is after she was walking by our booth that afternoon and took the time to help me explain some things about the fit and design of her sling to a couple that had their baby in a New Native pouch that was at least one size too big.

it wasn't BlogHer but it was MY kind of cool

So, we went to the Babywearing Conference at Reed College this past weekend and worked as volunteers. I was SO happy to be a part of this effort! A lot of people I know looked at me like I had grown another head when I talked about the conference and even invited them to attend. I don't understand why anyone who *knows* me would think this is such a strange thing, it's not like it was a Gun & Knife Show or a Hobby Plane Convention... I've already written about why I am such an advocate for babywearing, even though I hate the label as much as I hate the labels Attachment Parenting and Elimination Communication.

Babywearing falls in line with my gentle parenting philosophy, which is basically to attend to my child's needs in a loving way so that he can grow up knowing he is loved and respected. Is that so fruity or out there? There's also a huge element of practicality and convenience, as I can easily get stuff done with my kid strapped onto my body and I can keep him safe & comfortable at the same time. I find strollers to be very inconvenient for many activities -- like taking the bus in an urban setting or going to feed the livestock when you live on a farm (like I used to). Even going to the Zoo is a PITA with a stroller because you have to get the kid out of the thing and lift him up in arms to show him the animals, over and over and over again... And with all the current debate about nursing in public (insert rolling eyes here), some mothers find it easier to breastfeed discreetly while their child is in a carrier -- I admit I haven't mastered this yet -- and they can also get things done while their child is nursing! The arguments in favor of babywearing are really too many for me to continue to list here, mostly because I just want to go ahead and share what an awesome time I had for the past few days. If you want to know more, read here, here and here, plus I encourage you to do your own research. I always prefer to do my own search for information. If I have one more of my friends tell me that they don't wear their baby anymore because it makes their back hurt, I'll scream. Would you stop wearing shoes just because the ones you've tried make your feet hurt? Or would you find a pair that works? (I have more analogies, like to jeans for example, if you're interested) Maybe the carrier you have doesn't work for you but another one will, if you try.

Actually, the other thing I want to say on this subject is that, from a Feminist standpoint, I also find that most all of the small businesses that have sprouted up to support the babywearing community are managed by women... creative, gentle, strong, amazing women who support (wholly or in part) their families by designing and sewing carriers or products that go on to help other women enjoy their children and their life. By buying their products, I support other women and their children and that makes me feel really, really good.

More about the actual conference in a bit...

broken strands

I've had so much going on, in real life as well as in my head, that I haven't had the time or words to get it all out... It feels like I have these strands of ideas, so many of them, and I can't slow down enough to weave them together into something smooth like a legible blogpost. Some have snagged and torn, in fact.

I never did post about meeting a wonderful group of blogging mammas local to PDX. That happened over a month ago. Or about how irritating it is that whenever I'm on the phone with a friend lately, all these different topics we start talking about get interrupted because of our respective children and their demands for attention, to the point where I never remember if we've discussed something or not; it's a good thing I don't lie to people or I wouldn't be able to keep track! This also happened at lunch yesterday with a wonderful, sweet mamma I met IRL for the first time. Which goes on to feed my sense of social inadequacy, and *that* was at an all-time high a couple of weeks ago after I attended a baby shower at a very snazzy restaurant... I felt like such a fish out of water that when I got home I literally burst into tears while Mo looked at me, trying to figure out what he could do to comfort me. There's also some stuff that's been gnawing away at me, about breastfeeding and nursing in public and how I just can't believe that people still, in this day and age, have issues with either!!! Plus, both my sons had birthdays, six days apart. I'm now the reluctant mother of a 15-year-old. I took him out to lunch on his "golden birthday" and watched him straddle the line between his childhood and his manhood, while I felt knots forming in my stomach. I'm waiting for the results of a repeat PAP, which are once again taking too damned long. AND, we found out last week that Mo's ex has quite possibly become an alcoholic, which obviously affects my stepsons greatly and has the potential to change the current relationship dynamic we're in (they've had us on IGNORE since we announced our engagement three years ago). Oh, I'd started a post about my ongoing issues with celebrating the 4th of July, which I couldn't bring myself to finish but I definitely need to because that's yet another shitload of feelings I need to unload.

We've volunteered to help out at the Babywearing Conference out at Reed College, which is coming up on Aug 3 - 6. If you're in PDX area and have children under the age of four, care for children, or plan to have children, please come to the conference. The exhibit hall will be open to the public on Saturday free of charge and many vendors will be there, so this will be an excellent opportunity to try out different styles of baby carriers, risk-free. The classes & workshops should be wonderful too. I'm especially excited about the classes being offered with regard to babywearing special-needs, medically fragile and/or premature babies.

So that was my PSA for today. And now it's like I've been skipping rocks with my thoughts... causing just a few ripples here and there with them as I cast them off into the interwebs. ugh, I feel my ADD taking over.

Happy Birthday, my sweet & silly TWO-year-old!

fire and loss

these are a few pictures of the Sweet Oregon Grill, a restaurant housed in two old barn buildings that burned down early this morning. The pictures were taken on our wedding day... see, this is where we had our garden wedding ceremony and reception almost three years ago. The site has now been declared a total loss and the owner says he will probably not rebuild.

We are so bummed, even Hyde was sad today. This wasn't the kind of place we'd go to all the time but we would drive by it often and joke that it looked like such a nice place to have a wedding. We're planning to go this weekend and see if we can take some pictures in the garden, if there's any of it left. My only regret is that we didn't get *more* pictures taken there on our wedding day. We have so many good memories from there, and it just seems wrong that a place so special to us is now gone...

breakthrough

Hi! Sorry it's been a while, I feel like I'm neglecting everyone lately no matter what I do.

Things ARE better with Hyde this past few days, and it happened by accident. It's been record-breaking-hot in the Portland Metro and as a result, I've been staying in the living room (where there's a ceiling fan and it's significantly cooler) until waaaaay past my usual bedtime. El Niño's sleep cycle is totally hosed now but we'll get all that sorted out later. So, Hyde's been hanging out with me, watching TV until the wee hours. Even *talking* to me in a non-snarky way! Out of the blue, on Wednesday night he asked me timidly if I was going to keep on doing that, staying up and watching TV in the living room and I said, "yeah... why?" And he said, "because I like it when we do that, we used to do that before, all the time... watch the 11 o'clock news and then Jay Leno's monologue, remember? It was fun."

Are you sighing a sigh of relief with me? Because, I was floored. Then I was giddy but I couldn't *show it* for fear he might shut down all over again. This is a confirmation of what my Godfather (the retired university-Dean-of-Psychology) had told me that very day during an hour-long conversation that was conforting not only because of his sage advice and wisdom, or his love for us, but because there was a loud coquí singing in the background (his home office has a courtyard where coquís live and thrive).

So, that's it for now, my baby's crying and I think Mo's calling me for dinner.

let's workshop this, hmmmmmmm?

all of you who say you were awful teenagers... please tell me how *you* define awful. AND how you define normal in the relative sense of a teenager's behavior. I was neither normal nor awful but I'll share more about that later. I think a lot of my problem has to do with the fact that I really have no frame of reference for dealing with this, for dealing with my teen son's attitude and behavior.

I think this could be therapeutic for you too, not just me. So, please share your memories and your definitions.

mammalodrama

I have to be brief because I'm exhausted. But I probably won't be able to sleep unless I do at least a partial dump, so here goes...

I sent Hyde to his room on Friday afternoon after he was disrespectful to me. He didn't come out for dinner, and when I went to check on him I found his room empty and the window mesh-screen ripped. No word from him all night, or Saturday morning, so we made a police report. When we got home, there was a message from him, left just a few minutes earlier that he'd been in a car accident while in his "other mother's" company (this is my friend who's in the middle of an ugly divorce). Turns out he'd called her, lied to her and she'd taken him and her kids to lunch. After lunch, she ran a red light (did I mention she's in the middle of a nasty divorce and custody battle?) and t-boned another vehicle. Everyone in her car, including my son, was fine. But it was a mess and the cops were there, so it's a good thing I was home to tell them that it was ok for my son to be in her car. And, since she didn't have enough to deal with, Hyde decided that he didn't want to come home that night so he got to spend it at her house. I spent the whole weekend crying, questioning whether I'm fit to mother anyone, and whether my family wouldn't be better off without me. Lucky for me, Sunday's sermon was dead on and snapped me out of my pity party. And that I have some amazing women friends who inspire and encourage me every time I want to shrivel up and die.

Hyde came home on Sunday night, after he and Mo (God bless my husband) played in a Father/Son Ultimate Frisbee game that some of our friends organized at a nearby park. Mo has been icing his knee since then, because no one was kidding about the ultimate part of the game. Things have been weird at home, to say the least. What's gonna happen the next time I say no to Hyde? And, as part of the whole ordeal, I've been on MySpace waaaaaaaaaaaaaay more than I'd ever care to so I can keep track of the adolescent chatter and try to figure out where Hyde's head's at, as well as what his friends are like. It's scary. I'd like my blinders back on please, and bring me a stiff martini while you're at it...

So, today. After two days of relative calm, today I'm in the kitchen fixing lunch and look over to see my almost-15yo son pretending to repeatedly one-two punch his 23mo brother. I've warned Hyde before about the way in which he plays with his little brother, and I have to once again point out that this type of "play" is not acceptable. Fast forward to 7pm, Mo and I are getting ready so we can all go to a benefit concert and I hear a weird sound coming from my bedroom door. I open the door and, to my horror, see Hyde swinging El Niño towards the door like a battering ram... I. lost. it. After I made sure that the baby was ok and left him with Mo in our room, I went completely nuts and yelled at Hyde until I lost my voice.

I'm scared because I don't know how to fix this, because I feel like I've lost my first child. Some commenters asked a while back if Hyde is maybe having issues at being "replaced" by his little brother, and from having "lost" his place as man of the house when I married Mo. It's possible. My friend Vic also pointed out to me a few months ago that he may have anger issues tied to his absent bio-father. That's possible too. There are so many reasons, really, for him to be angry and dysfunctional. And this is what I'm dealing with, this is why I may be on a hiatus from the blog... not sure yet what I'm gonna do about anything.

fonts... WTF?

ok, can I just say it's royally bugging me that my old posts are all showing up with a thick font that looks awful? I've tried to edit them but it's not working... so now what?

and on a totally unrelated topic, if anyone out there can tell me how I can get some music I have on a children's music tape (that is apparently no longer available for sale) onto a CD, I'd be most grateful.

misty watercolor memories

So, according to Mo I'm acting strange... maybe another funk is coming on (or the last one never left me), maybe it's just PMS. Today I decided to listen with El Niño to some of the music I grew up with, and I found myself getting very choked up. He, of course, was totally dancing all over the place.

My dad loved music, and I've mentioned before that we had a routine on Sunday mornings of listening to Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf, and then an assortment of other kinds of music -- classical, jazz (Daddy loved Miles Davis and Benny Goodman), the Beatles, and even some amazing recordings of Russian marching bands. While my mother's taste in music stagnated in the rarefied offerings of PuertoRican public radio (the worst most obscure operas anyone could ever dig up), I got to listen to everything else with my dad. He even bought me the Foreigner 4 album, Queen's Greatest Hits, Prince's Purple Rain and Cindy Lauper's She's So Unusual. But my first and somewhat secret love is the nueva trova music that I heard at parties, at the university (where my parents worked), everywhere I went in PR as a child of the late 70's and early 80's. Let me tell you, I have no idea how that 8-track of Haciendo Punto en Otro Son's debut album survived being played over and over and over, until I memorized all the songs and came to believe they were thinking of me while writing them.

I wish I knew how to set things up so I could share an online "mix tape" of this music with everyone, just like Dutch did. Oh well, I cannot... this is something else I'll have to learn how to do, right? I hope anyone out there reading this will feel like going through the trouble of discovering the music created by the incredibly talented musicians of the Haciendo Punto ensemble, as well as solo artists Pablo Milanés, Víctor Jara, and Mercedes Sosa. They are my favorites, the ones I listened to when I was a rebellious teen in Puerto Rico, a lonely college student in Manhattan, a melancholy and out-of-my-element single mom in Sacramento, and now... whenever I need to feel my roots, feel my heritage in ways I don't yet know how to explain.

The CD we listened to today was Punto Final, which was recorded live during what was supposed to be the final reunion concert of Haciendo Punto. My then-boyfriend and I stood in line because each person was only allowed to purchase two tickets -- the concert took place in the relatively small venue of the University of Puerto Rico Theater, once home to the Casals Festival -- and we'd promised my grandfather and great-aunt that we'd take them. The experience of being in that theater with them, of watching my Über-conservative great-aunt mouthing the words to every one of their beautiful, patriotic (and liberal, pro-independence, possibly communist!) songs with tears in her eyes while they performed is something I'll treasure forever. When I listen to that CD, I feel like I'm there again. It makes me hope for my country, even as my heart breaks and I'm reminded of how things are now, all these years after those songs were first written. I'm glad I can play it for my sons, so I can give them a taste of Puerto Rico, like when I cook rice & beans for them. Maybe they'll be the future of my beautiful island...

***

Speaking of music, I finally listened to Pink Martini this weekend, and I liked it. If you're not in the mood for Latin American protest music, this may be a more lighthearted and fun choice for you.

Carry on, then!

Supercalifragilistic-Kozy-a-lidocious

I mentioned a while back that I would soon be receiving a wearable work of art, courtesy of Kelley at Kozy Carrier (and Mo's mom, it was her birthday gift to me). Well, it's been here for about a month and I couldn't love it more! Yah, I know, I took my sweet time to post the promised pictures but it's very hard to capture the beauty of this carrier in pictures, much less indoor pictures (do you *know* what the weather's like around here?). We went to the park today with the camera because it was totally gorgeous outside, and Mo took these pictures so I could share with my blog peeps. StefanieRJ told me this looks like what she'll wear when she finally gets her "Queen of the World" title and I knew exactly what she meant because I feel positively regal whenever I put it on. That, and I get a little bit of a plushie thing going on when I'm near it, all I want to do is pet it!

Okay, in this second picture I'm carrying him way too high... honestly, we were all tired and ready to go home but mamma needed more piccies. The idea is that the child's head should be at a perfect level for one to effortlessly kiss the TOP of their head; anyone can see that I could've effortlessly kissed his neck the way I'm pictured carrying him. *sigh* I wanted to show off that I can carry my two-year old comfortably in this, so I can properly convey why it is that I love these carriers so much.


***
So, if you're in the PDX Metro, listen up!

there'll be a free babywearing workshop on 6/11 from 2-3 pm at the Wild Oats in Vancouver. Melissa Cole, of Natural Family 101, will be leading this workshop and everyone is welcome. There will be a brief discussion about the benefits of babywearing as well as hands-on practice and one-on-one help with many sample carriers to try out as well as handouts and resource lists.

If you can't make it, join the Portland NINO group and learn about upcoming get-togethers and workshops, as well as the Babywearing Conference at Reed College this August 3-6.
***

This last is an indoor picture. I decided to throw it in because I love the way my sweetie looks in it. And don't even think about rushing over to the Kozy site to order one of these. The opportunity is past. I sat on a waiting list for six months to be able to get this one-of-a-kind carrier. You'll have to make do with one made out of canvas, which is really not a sacrifice at all (and the little strap pocket they have is very convenient and ingenious, it's the only thing missing from my velveteen & silk beauty). Proudly made in the USA, baby!

wrap me up!

Remember when I said I'd gladly be mummiffied in a wrap? Well, let's make that two, shall we? I *thought* I was passionately in love with Purple Waves (left) but it turns out I'm also in love with Aubergine Waves (right)... they're slightly different in their purple/blue shading, and I'm a sucker for anything in that part of the color spectrum. Many thanks to Lori for allowing me to use her picture. If you visit her site you'll get to enjoy pictures of her incredible collection of Didymos wraps, along with her three adorable kids and many different domesticated critters. I think I may just have to go visit her one day...

I haven't posted a picture of my new "fancy" Kozy because I haven't managed to get a nice one taken outside, in natural light. It's very hard to capture the beauty of velveteen and silk indoors... plus, I've been so cranky lately I didn't think I could find the appropriate words to do it justice.

For those who are reading this and are interested in baby carriers but find wraps and MeiTais (like the Kozy) intimidating, there's always the Ergo or the bECOpack. I think if you get a BabyBjorn as a present or hand-me-down (I got one as the latter), it's fine and will do the trick for you, it's just that for the same amount of money you can get one of these other carriers that'll last longer, be more versatile and more comfortable for you and your baby. Just my opinion. And, I like the bECO better because it has a taller body AND it can be customized with different fabric choices. For me, the Ergo is too plain (I realize for some that'd be a bonus). There's a picture on the bECO site of a 4th Gen made out of Marimekko fabric -- look at the "customs" -- that made my jaw hit the floor. I've always been a sucker for Marimekko prints, and still prefer them over the usual Amy Butler and Robert Kaufman offerings. (ok, I know I'm gonna be pelted with tomatoes now!) Hmmmmm, if I could get enough traffic to this blog, I might be able to hook myself up with some ad-revenue goodness and fund babycarriers... would y'all that are reading this tell your friends to come by? We could sure use the cash, thanks!

Just kidding. Actually, I want to thank y'all again for reading and commenting -- those of you who do, I know there're also some regular lurkers who never comment. I've been really low lately (no! really?!?!? none of you had noticed, right?) and it's very encouraging & validating to read your comments. But I won't bore you by getting mushy.

this 'n that

How is it the first day of June already??? I feel so unaccomplished: potty-training is still in progress, weaning hasn't even begun, and I have no job prospects. Oh, and my teenage son actually said in counseling on Tuesday that a) he doesn't believe I *really* love him, and b) I fake migraines to get out of doing stuff. Heh.

The rash I've been struggling with for a week and half is still there, still itchy and annoying and spreading from my chest to my arms and neck. I went to see my doctor about it yesterday and he assured me it wasn't contagious, although he had no idea what it could be among any number of skin rashes, then prescribed a steroid cream (isn't that the medical profession's catchall solution?). Hopefully it won't lead to me growing some chest hair, because I'm not sure I can reasonably handle that too. As it is, shaving the usual parts is a bitch; who has all that time? Of course, I did a Google search and found this, which seems quite plausible as it describes *exactly* what I've experienced so far. I'm supposed to call doc tomorrow if the steroid cream isn't working or my voice has deepened, so we'll see. Mo says the rash looks worse today (thanks, Love!), and the itch is still there although not as bothersome. I wonder if this is the reason why I've had a migraine since Saturday? (or am I faking it?)

I dunno... I feel like I'm failing. Like, if I were going to get graded for how I'm doing with my life right now I'd get a D minus. You know what else is bugging the crap out of me? We have a birdfeeder and two birdhouses that were very popular at the house we used to live in. Now they're hung up on our balcony and I have yet to see ONE bird come near any of them. WTF???

ok, enough with the whining. I have to share some good stuff, and then I need to go answer a gazillion emails from people who actually want to go on playdates and stuff with us. But, I've been keeping myself under quarantine, just in case I had some skin version of the bird flu, ya know.

So, El Niño's belting out a new-word-a-day now. Thanks to BMC, I got the idea last week to teach him "help" (sign and word) for those times when he gets frustrated or I need him to cooperate, and whaddayaknoo it worked! We've had great success with it during toy pickup sessions, clothing changes and pretty much everything else we do around here. Yesterday he surprised me while we were singing Old McDonald by saying "dow" while making the sign for cow. And I found out that he also knows the word "rain", which he'd said to Daddy (who didn't share this news with Mami in a timely manner, the big booger).

The other thing that's really cute is that he's definitely a treehugger. Literally. Ever since he was a few months old, he'd reach out towards a tree if we were walking close to it. We'd always smile and walk him over so he could touch it, and he'd get a huge grin on his face. It's one of the most popular signs for him to make and he can spot a tree in a picture, painting, IRL, anywhere. Now that he walks, he likes to walk over to trees and *touch* them, the way most kids like to walk over and pet dogs or other babies... Ehhh, he could grow up to head the Sierra Club someday!

As for Hyde, I don't know what to do about him. There are times when I wish I could put him in a rocket and send him to outer space for a few years. I worry that I can't get past this emotional divide, this anger of his at me, and my correspondent anger and hurt at the fact that all my efforts at being a good parent have seemingly been for naught. I mean, if after everything we've been through he still doesn't believe I love him!?!?! Maybe it's because I let him watch too much television when he was a toddler...

the sun'll come out tomorrow...

The song "Tomorrow" from Annie got me through big chunks of my childhood. I am feeling better today, in part because I finally really opened up about all this stuff I've been bottling up for years. I can admit that my faith is struggling under the weight of my past, and is hardly able to sustain me. But I know my faith is still there, like a pilot light just waiting to be put to use. This week just really SUCKED and it didn't help matters that I was exhausted physically and emotionally. Mo's car even got towed on Thursday afternoon, you know, just in case we were starting to feel better... and I've developed a strange rash that is NOT stress-induced hives. Heh. I keep telling myself that at least we're all healthy, our marriage is healthy, and we have a roof over our heads. We're not living in Darfur.

I also allowed myself to indulge in a lot of snark over the past couple of days. A LOT. Television Without Pity and Mr. Nice Guy, I salute thee for helping me get through this. Also, Dutch's posts about the Bay-to-Breakers race, along with all the associated pictures (not for the faint of heart, just letting you know).

So, I think I'm gonna go try to take a nap. Hopefully, El Niño will join me. Mo's gonna make pizza for dinner, which is my kind of comfort food and his specialty. And the long weekend will give me the opportunity to spend a lot of time in my lover's arms. Maybe I'll cheer up enough to post a picture of my incredibly soft and beautiful new Kozy carrier before the weekend's over.

on the verge...

it's really a shame that one of my favorite movies ever, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, doesn't translate well to audiences that don't speak Spanish. The movie's fucking brilliant. It's a very campy, very 80's portrayal of 24 hours in the life of a woman on the brink of suicide by first finding out that her lover has unexplainably left her, and then that she's pregnant by him. What follows is so absurd, it almost circles back to being perfectly rational. And that's why I think it's brilliant.

My life has, on so many occasions, taken such ludicrous turns as to seem irrationally logical. My Godmother used to joke that the things that happened to me in real life always reminded her of the old Perils of Pauline serial. Living a cliffhanger-like existence isn't good for one's sanity, tho. I have found myself many times on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and have quite possibly experienced one or two "mild" ones. It's quite possible, for example, that I was in the middle of one when I became unmarried & pregnant at 21... didn't quite manage to dodge THAT bullet, did I?

The raison d' etre for this post is that I'm feeling "that way" again, feeling my neck muscles so tight that I'm afraid they're going to crack, feeling the pressure all over my head and that void in the pit of my stomach and the temptation to just. allow. myself. to step outside. for a bit. Into the twilight zone. Because the life my body is occupying right now just doesn't seem right. It's a bit too... OFF. And I don't know how to convey this to Mo in a way he can understand it. I'm the one prone to angst, not him. He really doesn't get why I care about half the shit I do, and when I care SO much that I can't stop crying... well, what can he do other than hold me?

The by-product of finding out the other day that my friend Joan died in Puerto Rico, was that my uncle left a message asking me to call him back. What's that line from The Godfather, the one where Don Corleone says something to the effect that no matter how he tries to get away [from the mob life], he always gets dragged back in? This uncle is my mother's brother, a man I used to love and respect, until he came to visit me four years ago -- on the pretext of going camping with Hyde and I -- and dropped the bomb after he arrived that he has a whole other family on the side that no one else in my family knew about. It was supposed to be our fucking little secret, he just needed someone to talk to about it because it was stressful for him. Ah, thanks for sharing! Then, a year later he came up with some lame excuse for not coming to my wedding (like I get married every day, right?), although he did finally show thanks to my other non-insane family members who talked him into it. But I digress from the point of this post, this particular phone call. The deal is that, since El Niño was born we've spoken four times, and the last two times I've cried for a looooooong time after hanging up. My uncle deals with his emotional baggage by being The Rescuer. He is currently taking care of my mother and this is what he wanted to update me on. If you've read any of my other posts, you know that I have serious issues with my parents, most especially my mother. She is mentally ill, has been forever and most likely undiagnosed for Narcissistic Personality Disorder. But he doesn't get it, doesn't get that she needs to be institutionalized because she is a danger to herself and others, and so he insists instead on recounting for me in detail the "strange" things that she does and the way that she acts and lives. How much more weight she's gained, how she doesn't take care of her diabetes, how she appears to be developing symptoms that could signal the onset of Parkinson's. His parting comment to me on Monday night is that if she were to die in the apartment she lives in (an apartment he owns and provides free of charge to her, even tho she is verbally abusive to him every chance she gets), she wouldn't even be found because of the smell... there would be no smell. The apartment has excellent cross-ventilation and the smell would be dissipated away from the neigbors. None of her friends have a key to the place, and he's usually away on business. He wanted me to know this. And I have to ask myself, WHY? Why did he make a point to tell me this? And why does that thought, the thought of her slowly decomposing while no one knows, terrify me so much? Why does the image of her nearly choking to death in the bathroom of a Ponderosa Steakhouse two weeks ago freak me out?

All my life, I've been terrified not just of my mother but of becoming my mother. Every time someone said I looked just like her or I talked just like her, I wanted to scream. Did they not see the differences? how could they miss them? I have my father's coloring, his nose and his lips. As I've become a mother and an adult woman (in my case, they pretty much happened at the same time), I've strived to avoid any similarities between the two of us. But the fear, the irrational, blind panic that it's inevitable for me to become just like her has rarely left me. Now that I'm older, sometimes I see her looking back at me in the bathroom mirror. I do NOT want to be that woman, I do not want to be that mother.

So, this is where I'm at, today. I feel like I'm on the verge... I have a wonderful husband who struggles to support me through this. I have a teenage son who -- unfairly -- thinks I'm an awful mother. And I have a tantrummy toddler who's teething. Somehow, I'll get through the day, and tomorrow will be better than today, just like today was better than yesterday. I'm in a quiet panic. I'm fighting the urge to crawl into a corner of my bathroom in a fetal position and keep the world at bay for as long as possible. I never set out to make this an angst-filled record of my days, I wanted to be funny and clever like so many of the other bloggers I read. But this is my life, right now. My throat is constricted and I'm blinking back the tears, focusing on taking the next breath and hoping Mo will get home soon so I can bury myself in his arms.

And finally, a big thank you to all of you who have visited and left comments in the last week about my friend Joan. She really was an amazing woman and I'm sure she would've loved to read all your blogs. She would've adopted you all too.

In Memoriam

I've finally had the opportunity to understand why I've been in such a funk for a while. It wasn't the budget situation in Puerto Rico, although that was very discouraging. It wasn't the myriad problems we've been having with Hyde for the last few months, although those have been maddening. And it isn't because I've been fried by the past couple of months' worth of El Niño's potty training and erratic sleep cycles.

My spirit knew before my mind did... that one of the most influential people in my life died in Puerto Rico on March 12th. But none of the people who knew felt compelled to let me know before today. So, I've just found out, and I'm hurt, bewildered and *pissed*.

Joan Miller was an incredible woman. She had a PhD in Special Education, and dedicated her career to training her college students to be the best, kindest and most creative teachers. She met me when I was 11 years old, and I immediately adopted her as part of my family. I needed someone as funny and loving as her in my life. She was nothing like any other woman I knew, and I loved her for it. At that time, most of the women I knew -- my mother and her friends -- were militant feminists who blamed men for everything that was wrong in their lives (that kind of militant feminists). I had a real problem with that. Joan never married but she also never had that disdain or contempt for men that I saw in the others, and that I certainly heard every day from my mother's lips.

Through the years, Joan took me under her wing much the way a loving aunt would. I could go to her home and hang out, relax. We could talk about anything because she would actually listen and treat my thoughts and feelings with respect. When I was 15, my boyfriend died and she sat with me for hours, talking until I was finally talked and cried out. She would travel the world every year, and once I got old enough she'd leave me to dog- and apartment-sit, which was like a paid vacation because she lived two blocks from the beach. Her dogs were strays: Rosa was a spaniel mutt she found as an abandoned sick puppy in a parking lot, and King was a mutt she found on the beach. She was good at loving strays, like me. I got her hooked on reading Agatha Christie mysteries when I was 14, she returned the favor by getting me hooked on Sara Paretsky and then Patricia Cornwell. She proudly hung on her dining room walls two watercolors I'd painted when I was five years old. That act in itself made me feel loved. See, my art had never been good enough to hang on my parents' walls...

When I got pregnant at 21 and had to drop out of school, she didn't hold it against me, because she knew how screwed up my life was then. She got Hyde a gorgeous wooden rocking horse that he loved, hugged & kissed like a puppy. Every year, she got him a present for Christmas, something my mother didn't do. She would send him postcards from every place she went to, and I think I've saved them all for him. She loved on him like a proud grandmother, never saying anything negative to him or to me. When he was diagnosed with ADHD, she sent me information on how to deal with it and also get the school system to help.

Joan didn't get to meet Mo, she wasn't able to attend our wedding almost three years ago because she hadn't been feeling well and she had too much going on at work. Of course, she got us an awesome present. A couple of months later, she had a massive, paralyzing stroke. I never got a chance to tell her about the new baby on the way, to tell her how happy I was/am and how Mo was worth waiting for all those years. I wish that I'd had the chance to share my new happiness with her. When I think of her, I see her smiling, her blue eyes bright and twinkling. I see her eating ice cream, and chuckling at the dogs' sillyness. I've been letting her go for the last two+ years, since the stroke left her in a hospital bed unable to even communicate, and yet it still hurts to think that she's really, truly gone and I won't see her again. During one of the last conversations we had, she promised that she'd be sitting there the day I graduated from college. That promise lives in my heart.

funk

for at least a week now, I've been in a weird funk. I can't figure out what's up but it's like a low-grade fever that's sapping me of what little positive energy I've usually got. And the dreams... ugh, the dreams I've been having SUCK. Mo acting all weird until I figure out that he's cheating on me. Or, my dad's still alive and I'm trying to run away from home, no matter what he does, how loving and patient he is. (Oh, I guess even *I* can figure this one out, now that I see it in writing. I'm so dense sometimes)

The situation back home gets uglier by the day. Maybe that's poisoning my soul a bit. People always ask me how I could leave such an island "paradise". Well, you can leave when your heart is broken, when you realize that those who are obvious candidates for a diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder are the only ones who ever get elected to higher office. It's not paradise when crazy people are running the show.

Anyway, this is where I'm at today. Maybe I'll get a good night's sleep now that I've vented.

naptime!

multilingualism and other challenges

First off, I have to say I think these shoes ROCK and I've been eyeing them for El Niño for a while now. The next time they go on sale I'll probably have to break down and get them for him. Dutch wrote a post about how much he and Wood hate flames on pretty much anything, and it reminded me that I sometimes like the most unexpected (for me) things. Like these shoes... I wouldn't get them for myself or for Mo. But for a little one who's getting faster and faster on his feet every day, I think they'd be just yummy.

So anyway, Mo's hard work over the past month has paid off and El Niño is now saying the names of six colors. He still sometimes gets the colors mixed up but at least he can say the words bhue, ellow, red, oranj, geen, and puhpl. No, I'm not teaching him the Spanish equivalents. I'll let him get it totally straight in English first, then I'll teach them to him in my language. In the meantime, I'm trying to teach him to count from 1 - 5 in Spanish. I think that's a reasonable compromise. He's also obsessed with letters (especially W and its fraternal twin M; I tell him W is for wow, M is for Mami), so we're working on those as well, what the heck.

I knew going into this "experiment" that it'd be difficult, and that multilingual children have so much more to process that their speech usually lags behind that of their peers. The keys are consistency, persistence, and patience. That doesn't mean I don't get supremely bummed that other people's kids the same age are saying tons of things while mine seems to speak mostly in what sounds to me like a Scandinavian tongue. Sometimes, he doesn't even *try* and just makes earnest facial expressions while blurting out "BLAHLAHLAHLAHLAHLAHLAHLALA!" Thank God for ASL, although even then, we have some issues. The sign for cracker and tree are the same, as far as he's concerned. And since he can't bring himself to say please or thank you in Spanish or English, would it kill him to use the signs???

It's also interesting to see what he picks and chooses in order to communicate, and how he associates. It wasn't until he was 18mo that he *finally* consistently said "mami"; until then both parents were called "daddy". He still won't say his name, even though he's acknowledged it since before he was six months old. He has also never tried to say milk in either language, only ever makes the sign for it. He makes the sign for all sorts of animals we've taught him, and the sounds they make, but he hasn't once tried to say their names. Except for giraffe... because giraffes don't make a sound (at least not any that I could come up with). Same thing with car, he'll make the sign for it and the sound but he doesn't ever try to say the word. See how I'm running my very own linguistics experiment here? I could go on about this but I'm exhausted and need to go to sleep soon.
***

so my left eye won't stop twitching... anyone got any good suggestions on how to fix that? Other than sleep, because apparently my children are determined to never allow me to have another good night's sleep. Ever.
***

Our very own Prefontaine (that'd be Hyde) has two meets left in his Track season. He's been steadily improving his times but missed last week's meet because he was sick (we ALL got sick, again. THANKS Kid!). So now we're not sure if that'll set him back for the rest of the season. Hyde is the kind of person who does well in pretty much any sport he participates in, he's a natural talent; he doesn't get that from me. We were hoping that he'd do well because that'd motivate him to also do well in his academics, participate in Cross Country next season (thereby sparing us the discussion about WHY he can't do football that we seem to have every year), and maybe even improve his attitude at home. Really people, the male teenage brain is so inscrutable to me, I can't even begin to explain how I feel on a daily basis. The only thing that comes to mind is living in a war zone, somewhere car bombs and other random explosions happen. You have to keep on living and always in the back of your head there's the knowledge that something awful may happen, any minute. I love my son but sometimes I don't really know WHY I do... am I a masochist? mentally ill? Anyone who thinks the toddler years are difficult, hasn't parented a teenager yet... that's all I'm sayin'.

And it's because of the track meet schedule that I'm probably going to miss a fun night out with other PDX blogging mammas, which is a HUGE bummer. Just slap that big "L" on my forehead now.
***

speaking of which, I had a glorious Lucy moment yesterday. I was trying to load the dishwasher while paying close attention to El Niño, who was due for a potty run any minute but kept saying no every time I asked. Once I realized it was time, I dashed towards him but the hardware mounted gate between us didn't swing open like I expected it to... I wound up eating it on the floor, tangled up in the gate, watching in horror as my bottom-half-naked toddler peed a gallon and a half onto the carpet. I have a lovely gash across my abdomen to show for it too.

Other than that, potty training is going really well! He even napped on my bed naked the other day, and managed to stay dry for the duration (two hours).

reason #16545 why I love Oregon

These are pictures I took at Crater Lake when Mo and I went, a month before our wedding. I had described it to him as a superb place for smooching. It is definitely a place worth visiting with someone you love, and I highly recommend watching the sunset there (the late August sun provides the most spectacular light & color display against the rock walls). Happy Monday!