Judgements come from all

weird couple of days.  Yesterday was Stori's 1 year Dr. checkup.  The nurse was different, which was a bummer.  I like the other one.  Even though we have differing opinions, she treats me with respect.  I appreciate that.  This one though...  I don't know WHY breastfeeding rubs her the wrong way, but it definitely does.  It was a sore spot for her.  She asked me if Stori's still on formula or if she's on whole milk.  I replied, "she still drinks breastmilk."  She asked how much per day.  I said I don't know.  She asked if she drinks every 2-3 hours for 10-15 minutes per side.  I half-chuckled, just from the sheer shock that a NURSE was asking if a year old child is nursing every 2-3 hours 10-15 minutes per side, but by all means kept my composure and replied, "umm, no we're kinda' past that ya know what I mean?"  Her response?  A VERY firm "No, I don't know what you mean."  Like, staring me in the eye, very firm like.  Really like I did something wrong to her...  It was terrible.  The asshole in me wanted to ask her  if I'm the first breastfeeding mother she's ever spoken to in her professional career.  But, I didn't.  So, instead I opted to try to explain that Stori nurses for milk sometimes and sometimes for comfort.  That some parents give pacifiers to comfort their babies and Stori prefers to comfort at the breast.  So, this woman (a this point having a hard time accepting her as a medical professional and giving her the credit of nurse) says to me, and I am NOT kidding, joking, exaggerating, anything...  "So she plays with it?"  This time, I actually laughed.  If she's seriously going to be that big of a bitch about me nursing my daughter then I figured I didn't really need to work SO hard at staying P.C.  So, during and after the laugh I reply with "No, my husband plays with them.  My daughter nurses at them, it's the way breastfeeding works." 

Today I'm totally hung up on my lack-of-a-relationship with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law.  I hate it.  It's engulfing me.  It's a terribly long story as to how we got where we are, but I truly think that in the end it has to do with the fact that we are very different people with similarly strong personalities. 

What the hell is the correlation between these two things that are on my mind, you ask?  Intolerance.  See, we should all probably just accept the fact that we're different.  That there are options about life in modern society that are so broad and vast there's no possible way for any of us to see eye to eye on everything.  And just like we all learn in elementary school, "life would be boring if we were all the same."  So, it's a blessing that we are all so different.  I question if maybe our bodies have progressed so far so fast that our hearts haven't been able to keep up speed.  I don't mean the physical hearts that take up space in our chest cavity, but our "heart center" in our spirit, in our soul.  At one time we all worked together to accomplish tasks.  Women made food together, made clothing together, menstruated together, gave birth together, raised children together.  Then, our men found oil.  We got stuff.  We separated.  We became selfish.  We became "self-sufficient" (which we really aren't at all, but that's what our brains think we are.  What our bodies think we are.)  Now, we're in this place of "independence" yet we are all yearning for closeness.  Some of us only want to be close to others who are like us.  Some of us intentionally seek out closeness with people who are pretty opposite of us.  Some of us really don't care, we just want to reconnect with others.  Period.  But, deep within all of us is this NEED to feel connected.  We've alienated ourselves from one another so efficiently that many feel most connected with someone without the intimacy of a personal relationship.  So, we seek these relationships out on a "new" interface.  We're companions with people through a computer screen.  We share more of ourselves with people we've never physically met.  I believe this is a kind of foreshadowing for what will be.  We've got to come back together.  We've got to accept community again.  We will.  I wonder if it will be during my lifetime.  I wonder if I'll be in the lucky few.  I try.  Regardless though, let's get back on track...

I suppose I'm taking both of these things and the underlying issue so personally because it IS personal.  Because I know I've participated in the movement.  I know some of my best friends I've never hugged.  With my arms anyway.  "Virtual hugs" is what I call them.   And I mean them.  When I "give" them, I truly have the same feeling in my heart center that I do when I hug someone with my physical body.  So, why am I not comfortable in person?  Where in my life can I personally take the steps to make the next connection?  Where can I change my own life to resemble what I want it to? 

Here's my theory on question #1:  We hurt each other.  We've been hurt by those closest to us in our vulnerable youth.  We don't want that anymore.  I truly believe physical hurt affects an entire person.  Their whole being.  It changes their spirit.  When we're hurt we decide we want to separate, at least a little bit.  Every trauma added on leads to more separation.  People think I'm crazy for not spanking.  Especially people who know I've tried spanking.  But, I think the "this hurts me more than it hurts you" thing rings a LITTLE true.  I think as adults we KNOW we are doing wrong.  Within our heart we know this isn't right.  But, we know we want to control something and that's our instinct.  MAKE IT DO WHAT WE WANT.  But, that's not right.  The difference between "intelligent" life and "animals" in most peoples' opinion seems to be those who are instinctive and those who have conscious choice.  So, I prefer to be an intelligent being.  I prefer to make a conscious choice.  I prefer to accept that child rearing isn't easy.  It isn't convenient.  It is, however a huge privilege that  we can choose what to do with.  If we choose to hurt, we choose to push our children further into retreat.  If we choose to GUIDE, we choose to pull them close, hug them, show them love.  It may take longer for our children to comply, but the hope is that they will grow with more internally-inspired compassion, rather than acting compassionately to continue with the ideal of what they are "supposed" to do.  I'm pretty sure this is why *I* am not comfortable in person.  It's scary to be intimate.  I've been hurt.  A lot.  but, I don't want to be.  I'm kinda' over it.  I'm over the whole deal. 

My neighbor gave me some tomatoes.  I look forward to giving them something yummy in return.  I look forward to creating community in my life.  I've given a little to another neighbor only to have her 7 year old girls tell me that breastfeeding a baby over 4 months old is gross.  I'm positive that these 7 year old girls don't really contemplate parenting techniques on their own.  So, I'm sure they were told this by the very person I've done favors for.  I'm also sure it was personal, since I'm the only breastfeeding person in their life.  In that area, I guess I can only continue to be compassionate and understand that she probably has pain in her life that I don't know of and that she's not ready to face.  Same with the nurse.  With my sister-in-law, however, I think I can do something more.  I think I can be open with her.  I think it's time for me to just be HONEST.  Really honest.  I guess from there, we'll just see.  But it surely can't get more uncomfortable than it is already.  I want it to get better.  I'm drawn to her for some reason.  Very drawn.  And I want to take it to the next level.  I want to be close with her.  I want to be closer with Jon.  I want to be closer with myself, too.

Self-reminder:  Different is good.  I can respectfully disagree.  I can be vulnerable.  I can make a difference.

Thanks for the reminder...

Aimee asked me what happened to my blog... 
Nothing happened to my blog.  Nothing at all for over 5 months.  HA!  That's fitting.  :-)
Now I do wish I'd have kept up on this over the past year.  I'm so terrible about keeping track of life as it goes and it'd have been nice to have all of Stori's firsts in a timeline along with our life.  Our fun summer and the excitement of buying our first home.  But, alas, all that LIFE got in the way of a blog.  So, I'll try to sneak myself on here.  As for now, we're going to do what we do when we run into a once-best-friend and pick up like we never missed a beat, k?  :-)

So, Wednesday is Stori's 1st (actually 2nd but since no one acknowledges the first one, I'll just keep in line with society here...) birthday.  I'm excited about making her cute things.  I'm excited about cake.  I'm excited about friends and family coming over.  I'm SO very excited that she's mine.  But, I'm not excited about her growing up.  Knowing full and well that I won't be having any more kiddos makes me feel barren... and I'm NOT.  But, it's a psychosomatic thing, I suppose.  You want what you can't have.  Because in all actuality, I don't want anymore than 2 children.  I'd like a LOT of babies.  And, I'd like a LOT of adult children when I'm older.  But, these 2 are wonderful, they're entertaining, they're fun, they're a challenge, they're everything I want in kids.  So there they are.  It's so bittersweet to have them growing up.

Zane started 1st grade 2 weeks ago.  He's doing agreat job!  His teacher is proud of their "first grade" lines they make in the morning at the door.  She says they're a great, fun group of kiddos and I believe her.  Zane's doing a great job with reading and I'm glad he's seeing that the summer practice was worth it.  We had a few arguments because he didn't want to read, but he had to.  Now he feels great that he can actually READ books during book time in class.  He knows his words for the week already so he doesn't have to "practice" them in the evening.  He just cut his homework time in half.  I'm so proud of him.  So very very proud of him.  To think, his 7th (really 8th, but again...) birthday is only a few months away is beyond anything my mind can comprehend.

Ive been working really hard this week on Stori's stuff.  I made her a shirt.  One of these days I'll figure out how to add pictures to this blog, but it's very cute.  No one makes solid black baby t-shirts, so I got a 4T black tank top at Goodwill and cut it up and sewed it together to be her size.  Well, a little long, but it's great.  I feel really accomplished.  It's been far too long since I just sat at my sewing machine and went with it.  I'm going to make her party hat to match her shirt and I'll have her wear some jeans to finish it off.  I'm also painting a pretty flower/leafy/name picture thing on her wall in her room.  I've been drawing on her walls all day.  HAHA!  I'm positive it'll look great when it's all said and done.  It just takes me a while to make a drawing look right...  I thin kI may come back here and post some pictures after it's finished.  That and her cake.  Maybe some birthday pictures. 

Then I think I'll kidnap the blog for a bit and be all about me for a while.  Maybe.  Maybe I won't be back for 5 months.  Hopefully, Aimee'll ask me again in a week or so.  :-)

I'm off to make a dress for myself for Stori's party!

Welcome!!

I suppose this is our first entry and with no more a point than to see how this all looks on the page and what we can do with/to it. We'll be making a post every Sunday for sure and will add additional ones through the week, if we get around to it. Everyone's good for now, so we'll wait until tomorrow to get "started."