May 31, 2010

Memorial Day Weekend

I couldn't think of a clever title for this post.

Roy had a four-day weekend - just what we all needed. Weekend highlights include:

-having an ultrasound
-watching a water birth live on the internet
-complete silence from the house next door for the past two days
-working on the house (lots of babyproofing)
-a new top tooth coming in for Charlie
-a three hour nap for me
-a trip to the farmer's market - it was so windy Charlie's stroller almost blew over!
-an eyebrow wax for me
-lots and lots of photo editing
-signing up for childbirth classes
-finishing up birthday present shopping for Charlie

I'm sure there's more, but I can't think of anything else, except today we went to Becki's house for a little get together. Charlie went swimming for the first time. He loved the water, as I suspected he would, even though it was cold as balls. But he was all manly and handled it.

He also ate a lot of watermelon...

...and crawled around with the most adorable scowl on his face.

I can't believe May is over. It was definitely the best month of this year so far. I know June will be awesome, though, because we've got birthdays to celebrate and parties to throw and lots of summer fun to have. Oh, and my mom is flying in next weekend and will be here for ten days. I'm so excited! I've been kinda sorta begging Roy to consider moving to Texas so we can be close to my family. (I never thought I'd be doing that.) But for the time being, I'll settle for a nice long visit from my mom. Looks like my birthday wish is coming true.

(Charlie's pretty excited to get some grandma time after six months of not seeing her at all!)

This week's agenda: lots of party planning and lots of writing... still working on that incredibly long post.

May 29, 2010

One Year Ago

My due date with Charlie was one year ago today. I celebrated this very special anniversary by staying up entirely too late watching a water birth transmitted over the internet for 800+ viewers. As a matter of fact, my birth center was the place where this couple gave birth. It was so amazing to watch, not at all dramatic like birth is portrayed in the media. I almost fell asleep a couple of times - it was that relaxing. I was very excited at the end, hoping beyond hope that I get that same peaceful birth experience.

We've got ten days until my baby turns one. Wow. I'm about to become the mother of a toddler.

I have a hugely long post in the works, which I hope to finish up and publish in the next week. In the meantime, we're going to enjoy this beautiful holiday weekend.

May 26, 2010

Birthday Wishes, Charlie Edition

With Charlie's birthday just around the corner, people keep asking me what he wants. I think his main desires include clear opportunities to pull on the cats' tails and big meals consisting of toilet paper, hairballs, and cat food. It's the little things, right?

I never knew I could spend hours (literally) perusing websites looking for toys. Toys are toys, right? Actually, as it turns out, I do prefer a certain kind of toy over all others.


That means wooden or cloth instead of (mostly) plastic. What can I say? I'm a little concerned about all the toxins that are found in plastics these days. Plus I think wooden and cloth toys will probably last longer.

The downside to these kinds of toys is that they tend to be a little pricier, like most things that are eco-friendly. Good thing there are inexpensive options.

So as people have asked, I've sent them to this website to get ideas.

Here are some of my favorite toys; I think Charlie would enjoy them very much:

1) Any block set:

I like the one above, because it's a wagon and a small set of blocks.

We already got Charlie this set of wooden blocks:

2) A xylophone!

3) A drum!

4) A duck push toy!

There are more rolling toys here.

And now, for some non-Oompa options!

1) I love the little stuffed toys this Etsy seller creates. I wanted the one shown below, but it's all sold out right now.

2) This Etsy seller has lots of play food options. I love felted stuff!

3) I like this trike. It's not the one I originally had in mind for him, but it's close.

So that's pretty much it. Can't believe Charlie's going to be one next month. Where has the time gone?

May 20, 2010

Working Towards a Better Birth

Mere hours after Charlie was born, I laid awake in my hospital bed thinking of his birth. I was shell-shocked, to say the least. I decided right then and there, in the wee hours of June 9, 2009, that I would never go through that again; I would rather just schedule C-sections for any future children. I just didn't want to deal with the pain of labor again.

A couple of months went by, and I had come to realize that the chemically enhanced labor I had experienced was vastly different from regular active labor. (Peeps, if you don't know, let me tell you now that Pitocin is a seriously awful drug that shouldn't be used as much as it is.) During this time, my mother-in-law, who delivered all three of her children by C-section, had discovered an umbilical hernia due to scar tissue in her abdominal area. (This developed less than a year after a fourth abdominal surgery for a complete hysterectomy.) One doctor advised her to have surgery to remove the hernia; another told her that the risks of another surgery outweighed the benefits and that she just needs to avoid lifting heavy things. For the rest of her life. She's 54 years old!

This scared (okay, scares) the bejesus out of me! For one, Roy and I would like to have three children, and chances are, since my mom had one, I will need a hysterectomy in the future. What's more, it's my mother-in-law we're talking about. She's got a time bomb in her tummy. This is scary business.

That is really when I began to think about VBAC seriously. I got involved in ICAN and began reading. Lots and lots of reading. About natural childbirth and medicalized childbirth and the 31% Cesarean rate in the US. About the risks of repeat ceseareans (and oh, there are many). I started to see quite clearly what had gone wrong with Charlie's birth. It wasn't that I had a bad doctor or was in a bad hospital or had a bad anesthesiologist or bad nurses. It was that I got lost in the system. A system where the mother's emotions and instincts are ignored in favor of what the doctor thinks is best. A system where birth and all of its transformative qualities are ignored in favor of one outcome: the medical definition of a healthy baby and a healthy mom.

It didn't take long for me to see, after spending hours reading birth stories on the web (now one of my favorite pastimes), that our maternal health care system is broken. While yes, it is wonderful that C-sections are possible for women who really need them, and yes, it is wonderful that obstetricians are available to oversee high-risk pregnancies, the vast majority of pregnant women in the US are treated as though they have a disease and thus are lawsuits waiting to happen. So they are induced before their bodies are ready to go into labor naturally; the induction meds cause the baby to go into distress; and as a result, one in three pregnant women ends up with a cesarean. Major surgery. Huge risks.

(That's just one scenario. But it's a common one. So common that, when people ask why I had a C-section, all I have to say is "I was induced..." and before I can get another word out, they are nodding knowingly.)

Many, many mothers end up like I did, scared and distrustful of their bodies, crushed and saddened by defeat. Their introduction to motherhood is underscored by a belief that they are broken, that they have failed. They are afraid to say anything about how they feel because they are all too quickly reminded that they should just be grateful that they had a healthy baby. In other words, "Shut up. You have no reason to complain. You are a bad mother for feeling this way."

I have news for the people who turn to the "you should just be grateful for a healthy baby" adage as a way of dealing with a mother looking for support:

I am grateful for my healthy baby. I am grateful to be alive. And I should be. Because Pitocin is not a drug that should be used as casually as it is. And neither is Cytotec. Because the medical community (and most of society) thinks that it is okay to administer these drugs to induce labor, I ended up being strapped down to an operating table so a doctor could cut my son out of me. I had a risky surgery that I didn't want and didn't even need because our maternal health care system is broken, because the vast majority of people think that chemical induction of labor is "normal", because we let doctors share the shit out of us to the point where we doubt our own instincts about what's right for us and our babies. I've spent almost a year now in the midst of a major depression, grieving a birth gone wrong. I get to be upset about what happened. I get to talk about it if I want to, over and over if need be. I get to have my feelings. I get to own my pain. Because to deny it would be telling the world that I am okay with what happened to me. And I am not okay with it. And if that makes you feel uncomfortable, then go somewhere else where there are puppies and unicorns prancing all over the place.

Anyway. Got off on a little (angry) tangent there.

Obviously, once I began thinking more seriously about having a VBAC, I started researching care providers. I learned that the hospitals in my area aren't VBAC-friendly. I learned that OBs have this tendency to see VBAC hopefuls as ticking clocks and thus these women are not allowed to go past 41 weeks. And I also learned that VBAC hopefuls all over are still being induced with drugs like Pitocin and Cytotec, despite their scarred uteruses. So it is nearly impossible to have a VBAC in a hospital here. There are too many conditions placed on women hoping for hospital VBACs.

That is how I came to the conclusion that we would pursue an out-of-hospital birth for our second baby, whenever we decided to have one.

Home birth has always sounded great to me, but to say that I don't have the confidence level to attempt it would be an understatement. A birth center with a midwife seemed like a good middle-of-the-road option for us, and lucky for me, I had already made contact with one and had gone on a tour of it before I found out I was pregnant. When the pregnancy test unexpectedly came up positive, we bypassed my OB entirely and just began my prenatal care with the birth center.

I feel good about our decision to pursue an avenue that's a little more nontraditional, because I want to have a birth that's empowering. Now that my reproductive health (and let's face it, my emotional health, too) is compromised by having a traumatic C-section, I need someone who will help me have a better birth. I don't have any illusions about being in control. Ultimately, there is very little in life that we're in control of, but I think trying for an unmedicated VBAC under the care of a midwife will at least put some of the power back in my hands. I am excited to see what my body is capable of, and even if I end up back in the OR for a second C-section, I think I will feel better about this birth because it will be something that I have an active role in, not something that will just happen to me as I lay flat on my back in an uncomfortable hospital bed.

This isn't about my needing to be a hero and suffering through the pain or even my need to prove my womanhood by having a vaginal birth. I want to have a birth on my terms. I want to be able to trust in myself - and in the world - again. I want to make up for what was lost when Charlie was born. Nothing will ever make up for it entirely - I know this. It's one of those things that will always hurt. But I do want the pain to lessen someday. I want to stop being angry and sad. At the same time, the anger and sadness have propelled me forward in a direction that I am so grateful for. The path I'm on is one I might never have explored if it hadn't been for Charlie's birth. I have learned so much from being cut open, enough to know that unless it's totally necessary, I never, ever want it to happen again.

(I am 16 weeks pregnant today and obviously still very long-winded - but very happy because I'm almost positive I felt the baby move today - twice. Insert ridiculously happy emoticon here.)

This Morning

I had a dream.

I was in labor at the birth center. All of a sudden, this tiny little baby just slipped out, and my midwife caught him and handed him to me. Instead of crying, he looked right at me and gave me this huge grin. He looked just like Charlie, blonde hair and all. It was such an amazing moment.

But he was tiny, only about two pounds or so, but perfectly healthy. We went to the hospital because the placenta wasn't coming out on its own. There were various friends and family there, and they'd brought Charlie along. Putting the two boys side by side was pretty much the happiest moment of my (dream) life. I was absolutely thrilled to reveal his name as well. For some reason we spent an inordinate amount of time at the hospital just trying to coordinate everything to remove the placenta. When I woke up, we still hadn't gotten the placenta out.

My mom told me yesterday that she dreamt about a tow-headed baby boy, so I wonder if this is her influence on me. Or maybe this is my body's way of telling me that there's another little boy on the way. (Squeeee!) I also have to wonder if the tiny baby was really Charlie, being as he looked just like him - perhaps teeny Charlie was meeting up with I-have-been-a-giant-since-the-beginning Charlie.

Whatever the case, I hope this doesn't mean that I'm going to have a preemie this time around. Or worse yet, a baby born too soon to make it. And I hope that if we do end up in the hospital (we are planning an out-of-hospital birth), it doesn't take that damn long to get the ball rolling. (But that part's pretty true to life, unfortunately.)

So that was my dream. I woke up smiling.

(Oh, and while this dream may seem pretty straightforward, I always welcome interpretations.)

May 17, 2010

Birthday Wishes, Leslie Edition

Three weeks or so until my birthday, and I've got a list going on of things I'd like to have...

1) This shirt from Daytrotter, my favorite site for free music:

I really should stop wearing T-shirts and go for some kind of glam mom makeover, but that's not going to happen right now. Long live sloppy mommy!

2) This book:

It's a bit pricey and definitely something I'd never buy for myself. And I feel like it could be either totally awesome or a complete waste of money. I hate that there aren't any guarantees.

3) This camera, plus tons of film to play with:

I feel slightly embarrassed to be coveting this camera, because it seems like it's the camera to have right now and I should probably just use what I've got. But I can't help it. I like instant film. I like tiny things. Win-win. (Note: this is probably the thing on this list that I want most.)

4) This lens, even though it's plastic and I've already owned two previous incarnations of it and both have been broken:

Again, another thing I can't help wanting because it's an amazing little lens. And cheap. Hence the breakage.

And now for the boring stuff that would make my domestic life a lot easier.

1) We really need a new vacuum. Something like this would be wonderful. The price tag makes me want to cry.

Perhaps there is a comparable, less expensive alternative out there? Anyone? Because right now we are pretty much scooping up cat hair off the carpet with our hands in lieu of vacuuming. That's hot.

2) About ten of these bags (each in a different print), so we never have to use plastic baggies again:

3) This set of reusable produce bags to take with me to the grocery store and farmer's market:

4) This Pyrex set, so we can use glass for food storage as opposed to plastic:

5) Two to four sets of these cloth napkins:

6) A set of BPA-free drinking cups, but I can't really find anything I like online

I've become mildly obsessed with making our house as eco-friendly as possible, which means using less paper and plastic where we can and getting rid of stupid toxins like BPA.

Oh, and I'd also like:

7) Some maternity clothes that don't suck - since I'm going to be pregnant through the summer, I need options.

So that's my birthday list. I honestly don't really care if I get any of it, because my biggest birthday wish is for my mom to come visit just in time for both my and Charlie's birthdays, as well as Charlie's birthday party. I need to see my mom and kiddo together, and plus I just want to see my mom. As I get older, presents take a backseat to spending time with the people I love. But who am I kidding? I still love presents!

May 14, 2010

Friday's a good day to barf rainbows.

My niece drew this back around Easter. I thought it was genius.

Reason #876786 why I love kids.

Happy Friday!

May 13, 2010


We started looking for a new place to live on Easter, having had a serious discussion about our finances and dreams for the future. As I do with every new project, I threw myself into it with gusto. I kept running into scam after scam - it was very frustrating. Finally, after searching for over a month, we were able to finally get to the application process for two different places.

Around the time the applications went through, I started feeling heavy with sadness about leaving our house. Odd, because in the past few months, it's felt like a prison. There are the newish neighbors next door who have SIX yappy dogs that are left outside all day, and it's not uncommon for them to wake Charlie up from at least one nap a day. There's the fact that every room in the house is overflowing with chaos. There's the concrete that serves as our backyard. I couldn't wait to get into a new place and start over.

But you know, this house is our home. We moved here when I was pregnant with Charlie; this was where we brought him when we came home from the hospital; and every room, while overflowing with chaos, is filled to the brim with memories of our life as a family.

Conveniently, around the time my nostalgia set in, our landlord called me and asked if we were planning on moving out. (Naturally, he'd been contacted by those from whom we were trying to rent.) I confirmed our plans to move and our reasons why but told him I'd rather stay since we love the house so much. I asked if we could work something out.

At the end of the day, our rent amount went down by $300, and we agreed to stay. (!!!!!!!!)

The catch? The place is being sold to an investor friend of our landlord's. That process will take a few months, and once it's all said and done, we'll have to renegotiate a new rent amount with the new landlord. So the $300 less per month may not last all that long. But it buys us some time, and that's a good thing. I just hope that we don't have to end up moving when I'm in the third trimester or something. That would really suck balls.

But in the meantime, we're trying to get a handle on all the chaos around here. Our main issue is that it seems like nothing has a place. So we have little piles of crap in each room, and it's maddening. Bit by bit, I've been going through the piles and putting things away and sorting other things into boxes for a yard sale or donating. It feels very Zen to slowly sort and clean and arrange, quite a contrast to the very not-very-purposeful way in which we've been living since Charlie was born.

My dream is to have a clean, simple house. With lots of artwork and pretty things. But no clutter. Some cat hair is inevitable, though.

Last night we celebrated having a little more time in our house by having dinner on our front porch. The weather has been perfect lately, and it was a beautiful evening.

We normally eat at the coffee table after putting Charlie to bed, another bad habit that we've formed in the past year. This was a really nice change. I've come to understand that family dinners are priceless, and we need to make the effort to eat together (with Charlie) more.

I've been feeling really good lately, and I think it's because I'm making an effort to live more consciously. Slowly but surely, I'm purging my life of negative people, negative habits, and negative ways of thinking. I feel....right. Today, at least, I feel sure of my footing - and my path.

May 12, 2010

A Little Souvenir from San Diego

Now that the big news is out, I feel a little more free to discuss this pregnancy. I seriously doubt that I will have the time or the energy to update with as much vigor and enthusiasm as I did when I was pregnant with Charlie. It's not that I'm not excited or happy or anything like that. It's just that pregnancy is an entirely different experience with a little one crawling around underfoot.

My focus is also very different. I didn't really give two shits about making a birth plan or really preparing for Charlie's birth at all, and this time I am handling it very differently. Birth is huge to me now, and there will probably be more posts about that than there will be posts detailing all the various orifices from which I'm leaking. I will get to the birth stuff another day, though. And the leakage, too, of course.

So let's talk about this little one. I have a nickname for this baby, but I'm wary of sharing because it is so gender specific that I'll be embarrassed if SHE doesn't end up being a girl. I can't help it, though - I really feel like this one is a girl and it excites me! For the first month or so, I felt like I was carrying another little boy, but once we had an ultrasound at 9 weeks, I began to feel differently. I will say this, though, that I will be thrilled either way. I know from experience that boys are completely awesome, but I would love to have the experience of raising a little girl, too. What matters to me is that the baby is healthy. Everything else is an absolute bonus. But we'll know for sure in about six weeks or so. (I'm 15 weeks pregnant now.)

My last period was on January 28. On March 1, I was lying in bed and thought, "Hey, I think my period is a little late." (I have been pretty fuzzy on dates and things since Charlie was born.) So I consulted my chart and realized that even though February was a short month, my period was indeed late. I mentioned it to Roy and said, "Well, it's probably because February was such a stressful month." I figured I had ovulated late or something, because February was indeed the motherlode of stress.

I thought that maybe I could be pregnant. I'd been sneezing like crazy and was really congested - I went through boxes upon boxes of Kleenex while I was pregnant with Charlie. So that was a clue. I'd also become very - ahem - regular, and I was farting up a storm pretty much all the time. Then there was this brief moment at the park when I felt vaguely nauseated for a split second, and I thought, "I wonder..."

So on March 2, I went to the doctor to talk about my depression. I got a referral to a therapist, and I figured I needed to know if I was pregnant before going in and possibly getting put on anti-depressants. That night, Roy took me to the Dollar Tree, and I bought five pregnancy tests. The cashier looked at me and said, "You want to be sure, huh?"

The plan was to test in the morning, but I had to pee badly. So I went into the bathroom as soon as we got home and took the test while Roy got Charlie ready for bed. Almost immediately I saw the second line appearing, which was totally different from when I found out I was pregnant with Charlie. Honestly, I was not surprised at all to see that second line come up. I guess maybe I just knew. At the same time, I think I would have been unsurprised if it had come up negative.

Of course, I grabbed my camera and took pics of the test. Roy and I met up in the hallway and I told him to go take a look. He saw, and then we hugged. We were happy, just shocked. And not shocked. (We weren't exactly trying, but we weren't really preventing, either.)

I was 4 weeks and 5 days pregnant, exactly how far along I was when I found out I was pregnant with Charlie.

The first week was really good. I ate well, had tons of energy, and in general felt absolutely thrilled about having another baby. Then the nausea hit. And the fatigue. And the next thing I knew I was crying every single day, wondering if we had made a mistake, if we were in over our heads, if we could handle this. I spent a lot of time in bed, feeling horribly depressed and insanely exhausted. Much of the first trimester played out this way. I felt like crap physically and emotionally, but around the 11 week point, just as it happened when I was pregnant with Charlie, I turned a corner.

Suddenly, I felt like me again. And I finally felt like sharing the news with people.

Many, many people have asked me (or have seemed to come to the conclusion on their own) that it's "just" pregnancy hormones that were making me so depressed. I actually have a big problem with this, for a couple of reasons:

1) Hormones should never be described as "just" hormones. Hormones are a huge fucking deal.

2) I've been struggling emotionally since Charlie was born. I don't think that the first trimester of pregnancy helped at all, but I certainly don't think that it's the main reason behind my depression. I've been feeling really good since I've been in the second trimester, but I also think that's because I've been in therapy for over two months and I've made some good changes in my life. I certainly have had some mega breakdowns in the past week, though.

So that's the story (well, part of it) of our second baby. It's pretty amazing to think that we went to San Diego back on Valentine's Day weekend as a family of three and came back as a family of four. Hands down, this baby is the best souvenir ever.

Even though I've been in maternity jeans since I was 10 weeks pregnant.

May 9, 2010

A Mother's Day Tale

Once upon a time, there was a girl.

She loved her mother fiercely, even though she didn't understand that most of the time. Her mother was her hero, solid as a rock with a gentle touch and a stoic commitment to her children's happiness. The girl dreamed of having her own children some day and loving them just as completely.

One day, she met this boy and they fell deeply in love.

Of course they got married, because that's the way these stories go.

Almost two years later, they had their first baby.

And he was perfect.

Motherhood is difficult. It's sleepless nights and doubting oneself and torrents of tears and clothes covered in vomit/poop/some other disgusting substance, but despite all that, or perhaps because of it, the girl never doubts that it's worth it.

Because every day she's repaid for all her hard work with goofy grins, giggles, hugs. And love. Motherhood has taught her what it means to love with every cell of her body.

There is nothing more beautiful.

But there is one more thing that could make this Mother's Day tale a little more perfect.

And that is the recognition of another perfect little baby, scheduled to turn our lives upside down this coming November.

We are so incredibly excited to be pregnant with Charlie's little brother or sister, and we know that we are beyond blessed to have not one, but two beautiful babies.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you mamas, mamas-to-be, and those who dream of having your own child to love. The work is hard, and it often goes unnoticed. But know that you're doing something valuable. Know that you're teaching your children how to love, just by opening your heart and letting your babies live there. It's the opportunity of a lifetime, being a mother. I know that because of my family, "happily ever after" does exist. And I know that love is everything.

May 8, 2010

11 Months

Today Charlie is 11 months old, and I've decided that I won't be sharing my letters to him in this space anymore. Writing him letters and doing a special monthly photo shoot are two traditions I plan to continue past the first year. When it comes time for him to move out of the house, I'd like to give him a bound book or seven of my letters to him, not to mention all the photos I've taken of him. I'm not sure if he'll be into that kind of stuff, but perhaps his future wife will be.

However, we have quite a lot of time before Charlie's ready to go off to college, or whatever it is he decides to do with his life. But as we get closer and closer to his first birthday, I realize even more that time is not my friend. The years will pass as quickly as this one, and before I know it, my baby will be all grown up. I can hardly stand to think about it, so I choose not to. Instead, I enjoy each moment as much as I can, even when those moments are challenging.

Charlie is still a big boy, but he's balancing out now. He's actually got a neck! At his last appointment, he weighed 23 lbs. He's in the 85th percentile for weight and 95th for height.

He crawls! And pulls to a stand! And stands for brief moments on his own! And sometimes does a bit of cruising! He says "dada" quite often and every once in awhile a "mama" will slip out. And he's got four teeth now! With each milestone, I grow more and more proud of him.

I don't think it's possible that he could be any cuter than he is now. But I have always thought that, and he's always managed to set the cuteness bar higher and higher. Everyone we come into contact with tends to agree, as people are just completely taken with him the moment they see him. His hair is especially beloved. And really, what's not to love about that mess of blonde hair?

Charlie reminds me so much of Roy. He's wonderfully curious, but he's mellow and patient. He's just a sweet baby who loves to be tickled and held and kissed. He makes me laugh every day, whether it's because he's chowing down on cat food or because he's constantly grinning and shaking his head "no." I love watching him chase the cats and seeing how he tries to be gentle with them. He's an amazing little boy.

And no matter how hard things get in life, he is my perfect little prince.

May 3, 2010

Start Where You Are

The thing about depression is that I continue to feel separated from the world instead of a part of it. I feel like I'm looking at the world through this impenetrable gauze. Everything is fuzzy and vague.

Granted, I've been feeling a LOT better. And by that, I mean that there haven't really been any major meltdowns or breakdowns for the past few weeks. I did cry (hard) on Saturday night, but what else is a mother to do when her teething baby won't stop crying? The solution: cry right along with him. Teething sucks, dude.

There are times when I genuinely feel happy. And I treasure those times.

But most of the time, I feel numb. I feel like I'm merely existing, just making it from one day to the next, waiting for the next step.

I've got a lot riding on the next step. The next step means we are in a house we can more readily afford, so that we can start to attack our debt aggressively. It means a chance to start over, to have a yard (if we're lucky), to grow flowers and vegetables, to spend summer days playing outside, to convert the garage into a darkroom, to do yoga in the mornings while Charlie naps, to write in the afternoons while Charlie naps again, to eat well, to stop wasting, to have just enough stuff and not a drop more, to just be still.

I envisioned this whole new life for us in the space of five days, after we found a house we wanted and went for it. On Friday we found out we didn't get it. And all the forward momentum just. stopped.

There will be other houses, of course. We'll find something. I think the main lesson to be taken from this is that we don't have to wait for our new home to come along to begin seeking the life we want.

It's called starting where we are.

And so yesterday I went and did something a little crazy.

Yeah, that's some pink hair you see. It's not exactly what I envisioned for myself, as I originally imagined the pink to be darker, but when I woke up this morning and saw my pink/blonde/brown-headed self in the mirror, I couldn't help but smile. I guess life is like that, too. It never goes as planned, and it never looks the way you imagined it would.

But all the fun's in the deviation from expectation. I'm big on deviating. I'm hoping it will lead me to seeing the world through clear eyes again.

Happy May! Let's see if I can muster up the energy to blog more this month. I'm also curious about whether life's more fun as a pinkhead.