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Of course, some things don’t change. Jack still won’t leave his sister alone, and Lo won’t stop changing her clothes.
But the heads are still able to tuck under my chin when I hug them, and the feet are still cute enough to photograph.
And I’m grateful the memories are captured.
(Yeah, yeah it’s a lovefest. Tomorrow I’ll write a downer, I promise.)
1. JON and my family and my friends and anyone else who felt even secretly left out of yesterday’s short list. 😉
2. Being the Kansas tester for this, getting it in the mail yesterday, and loving it. Keep up on this strong mama, folks, and order her chocolate. It’s good stuff.
3. Having my freelance writing submission picked up. Hoodilolly I am so excited and validated and scared shitless! And I can’t tell you about it, but I’d love some clever writing vibes sent my way. Tanksalot.
4. Having my wonderful aunt record my grandparents’ memories of their lives. She is one of those people who actively does what everyone says in those lazy moments they’d like, and as my grandparents age further, these recordings will be even more invaluable to all of us.
5. Getting my latest copy of Mothering in the mail. There was an article in there on how to follow your instinct even if your parenting has you swimming upstream. And though it was meant as support for those who get worn down from judgment, it actually just reminded me of how proud I am of myself. My philosophy is (for the most part) not mainstream, and of course if you know me you know I love being different because of it. But if it weren’t legit, I would have doubts. But I don’t – and never have – and that is the litmus to me that at least in this area I’m a confident adult with independent ideas. (Props, Mom, ya done well.)
6. That Passenger song over there <—. I can’t keep it up forever, but I’m sure enjoying it right now.
7. Coffee. I can’t believe it missed inclusion yesterday. It’s up there with.. air.
I may try and get my bum in gear to be more creative here. I’ve always missed the NaBloPoMo dates, and this next month’s theme is LISTS! I heart lists. So, I’ma try to attempt it.
Surely you’re not as excited as I, but you’ll still come check, won’t you?
Until then, (which is when, tomorrow? Hmm) I hope everyone has a great weekend. And thanks, AGAIN, to Jen-Nay for the idea spark. You all know we have the same name and college major, right? Surely there’s a reason we bounce off each other. 😉
..and quite often spit my drink out of my nose.
To wit: Eliza Dushku
A gal from my parenting board posted this article about Six-Word Memoirs. It’s actually really challenging to think about, especially because they can be written flippantly all the way to profoundly. (It’s also difficult for some of us who are not good friends with brevity.)
I’m going to post a couple I thought of; they are neither top-of-the-head nor overly-edited. Share yours if you come up with any. 🙂
Brain chatter’s often louder than reality
Loves everyone most of the time
Skip pets, go straight to kids
Farm idealism stuck in city heart
Not omniscient and grateful for it
Bravado can bluff only so long
Social and introvert completely and confusingly
Air and books are enough sometimes
Last week my (future OB) friend, Annie, called me from NY to talk about the morning she’d had. Up there for interviews, she’d met one of the main homebirth back-up doctors featured in Ricki Lake’s documentary The Business of Being Born. That morning they’d had a showing of the movie for the residents and attendings.
A large number of them booed and catcalled during most of the movie.
(Did I mention one of their bosses is featured prominently as an obvious supporter of natural childbirth?)
Annie and I discussed for a long time the inherent polarization of the (vast majority of the) medical community versus natural advocates. And what angered me most with her story was that their behavior was shamefully arrogant and narrow-minded, and it attested to the same kind of patronizing attitudes I’ve encountered in my own experiences as a pregnant mother or doula. That is ridiculous on too many conceivable counts, but I’m not going to get into why, because I think that’s probably obvious no matter where you stand.
So this morning on my local parenting board someone posted last week’s review of the doc featured in Slate. And here’s the thing, I don’t totally disagree with the writer that it’s propaganda. Personally, on one hand, I wish there could be even-handed media to present – in an effort to quell the skeptical bias people already have towards unconventional practices like homebirth. But on the other hand, I totally understand why the movie needs to be so far that direction, because it’s fighting a monstrously large and insipid medical mentality, and it’s the shock value that usually wakes people up and makes them think. (And maybe you’re thinking even my wording’s dramatic, but.. well.. it really is the truth.)
But then the writer gleefully mentions how the director’s eventual breech c-section is a ‘counter argument’ for the cause. And that’s a perfect example of missing the freaking point: Very few people – very few- would say that there is never a need for medical intervention. Obviously this mama and her midwife decided it was time to go to the hospital. ACOG calls for 30 minutes as a window to prepare for a normal section, and when a homebirther transfers, rarely is it the ambulance screeching drama you see in movies. Which is the whole thing, that it doesn’t need to be either/or. The best case scenario would be working in tandem.
Currently it’s (excuse me) a dick waving contest.
But that’s beside the point. I’m frustrated (and resigned) that the reviewer couldn’t really discuss the documentary without her own bias hypocritically shining through. She calls the team out for statistical inconsistencies (the quote about fetal homebirth death rates) yet doesn’t cite the studies. I think I know which one she’s referencing, and the key detail missing there is that all births outside of the hospital are included as a homebirth. So late-term miscarriages, side-of-the-road emergency situations – all are lumped into the category. And there is such an incredible difference between an emergency precipitous birth in the automotive section of Wal-Mart and a planned homebirth. Stating it the way she did is highly disingenuous – and not surprising.
Really, I could get more steps for my soapbox and give a lengthy diatribe about egos interfering with the supposed main goal of healthy baby and mother blahblahblah, but I won’t. First because I don’t have the energy to get too fired up today, but mostly because I believe that if you are educated, you will make the best decision for your family, whether it’s in a hospital or on the moon. So if this snarky reviewer (and everyone who feels the same way) wants to dismiss the valid points made in the documentary out-of-hand simply because they are different – I mean ‘crockpot’ – well, go for it sister.
It is easier to float along when you choose not to muddle your life with critical thinking.