choosing not to wear leggings and yoga pants? or: pockets are the key to lust prevention

In response to this

I can’t really say I was ever around friends and had a husband remark upon his wife’s body to me, but if I were ever around a couple and the husband smacked his wife’s booty and told her she looked hot in her yoga pants, as our toddlers played nearby, as I examined the stain on the knee of my own leggings and wondered if it was snot or what, exactly, I would think, “Good for them. They’re adorable.” And maybe also a little bit of, “Gag, get a room, you two.”

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the #1 thing I want you to know about Spina Bifida isn’t about folic acid

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It’s apparently folic acid awareness week. Which means I’m on my soapbox again.

It started when I saw the posts from the Spina Bifida Association on Facebook, again letting their audience of people who already have SB in their lives know that SB can sometimes be prevented by making sure women of childbearing age are getting enough folic acid even before they become pregnant, as neural tube defects happen so early in a pregnancy that by the time you miss your period and start taking your prenatal vitamins, it’s too late. But I have a feeling if you’re following the SBA on Facebook, you already know that.

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epic stories

“Etta fall down. At da zoo. Hurt knees. Hurt hands. Etta cry.” It happened in October, but she still tells me this story of her epic zoo fall at least once a day.

“Claire Bear fall down. At da wi-berry. I bonked my head on a shelf. I screamed. Then Mama had me.” This fall at the library, too, happened in October. This story, as well, is told as frequently and reverently as a great epic from the oral tradition, with all the solemnity a toddler can muster.

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Moments before the Great Library Fall of October 2014.

Usually we sigh, the way we all tend to do when someone tells us something we’ve heard before a hundred times, and say something like, “I know baby, you fell down and hurt yourself, but that was weeks ago, and you’re ok now! Your owies are all gone!” The repetition seems to us a little silly– why keep telling the story of such little hurts? Childhood is practically made of skinned hands and knees, of knots on foreheads and bruises that fade slowly, like sunsets that last weeks.

But to our girls, they are the biggest falls they’ve had yet. Their most significant injuries. Big events in the life of small people who lead otherwise routine little lives. To them, they are big stories worth telling.

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simply having a wonderful Christmas time

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I know I’ve been singing the praises of toddlers a lot lately, but I gotta say, this was our best Christmas with our girls, yet. It’s the first one where they sort of knew something special was going on, and their joy and wonder have been a joy to behold. I think their favorite part of the whole season has been “kiss-mas wights,” and they love driving around, pointing out light displays according to whose side of the car they’re on– “ETTA SIDE! BEAR BEAR SIDE!” They also love turning on our Christmas tree and, though I worried they would constantly be messing with the ornaments, they actually play with them very sweetly and usually put them back– the lower 1/4 of our tree has seen a lot of rearranging.

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Santa, his reindeer…and a lion

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Can I admit to you all that I’ve got some ambivalence about the whole Santa thing? I grew up believing in Santa, so I have fond and happy memories of that tradition and don’t feel scarred in any way. But the way Santa is so wrapped up in want and consumerism and making Christmas all about Things, the way his story is centered not in Bethlehem, the locus of the Christmas story, but the North Pole, which has nothing to do with anything– it all seems to indicate to me that we’ve gotten a little off track about the whole Santa story.

So, I admit, I’ve kind of been deferring the decision of how Santa would figure in our family’s Christmas traditions. Last year, my kids basically had no idea it was Christmas, though they did enjoy opening presents, and the year before they were infant blobs. I haven’t had to really decide until now. Even this year felt kind of like another year in which I could wait to see how I felt about the whole thing. I figured we’d decorate the tree, make cookies, listen to Christmas music, go look at Christmas lights, play with our little Nativity, read Christmas stories, do our Advent calendar, and just generally live in a Santa-free bubble for one more year. And we’ve been doing all those things (minus the Advent calendar, which I still haven’t finished making).

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But it turns out, I can’t live in a Santa-free bubble anymore.. Continue reading

thoughts on THIRTY

Today, I am THIRTY!

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I know for a lot of folks, this is a big milestone birthday, possibly even a thing to dread or skip entirely in favor of being 29 forever, but to me, it’s just a reason to celebrate. Since my intense brush with my own mortality at age 27, every birthday afterward feels like a gift. I’m happy to be here, happy to be relatively healthy, happy to think of all the ways I’ve grown and changed to get to this point.  Continue reading

sweet whispers and big questions

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It’s time for sleep, it’s time for sleep, the fishes croon in waters deep.
The songbirds sing in trees above, it’s time for sleep, my love.

Those are the opening lines of the girls’ “last book,” Nancy Tillman’s It’s Time to Sleep, which we recite to the girls after turning out their lights each night. I say recite because after many many readings, we don’t really need the actual book anymore. Instead, we can tuck them in and snuggle a bit while we chant the familiar words that ease them into slumber.

Usually, I lie in Claire’s bed with her, and she wraps her little arms around me and strokes my hair and generally acts like the tiny mama she is. She kisses my forehead, and sometimes, if I’m lucky, she whispers sweet nothings in my ear. The other night, she snuggled in close and said oh so softly, “You are SO CUTE.” I keep thinking about it. I love that kid so much.

She just has a sweet, nurturing spirit that goes hand in hand with her ham personality. She wants to make people smile and laugh, and she wants to take good care of the people she loves.

She’s even started asking about more siblings, for which I blame Daniel Tiger for adding a baby sister. The other morning as I changed her diaper, she said, “So, when you gonna have a baby, Mom?” “Um, Mama can’t have any more babies, you and Etta are my babies.” “But I’d be such a big helper!” And you know, I know she would be. She’ll have to settle for taking care of the people she’s already got.

And as you dream inside your sleep, the fishes crooning in the deep, and all the songbirds up above will sleep and dream of you my love, of you the one I love.

We finish the story, and now it’s my turn to whisper in her ear. I love you sweet girl. Sweet dreams.