BG New Releases: Spence and Marie

As most of you know, I have a #buyallthediapers problem, so when BumGenius released their new print, I grabbed one of each in 4.0... even though I admit to not really liking them too much. Maybe they're better in person.

Spence, for E. Lee Spence, an underwater archaeologist who studies shipwrecks and buried treasure. He found his first shipwreck at 12 years old, and is now an internationally known editor, author, historian, publisher, and photographer. This diaper is "decked with treasure maps, ships, parrots, and pirates".

And Marie after Marie Tharpe, an American geologist and oceanographic cartographer. She studied various aspects of the Earth's elements with a specialization in oceanography, and through a partnership, she composed the first scientific map of the ocean floor, revealing the mid-Atlantic Ridge and revolutionizing the scientific understanding of continental drift. Her diaper "depicts the mythology of the ocean" with "mermaids, seahorses,and other deep-sea creatures".

As to be expected, Cotton Babies' site is currently down. There are a few online retailers that will be carrying it, so check with your local stores!

What do you think of these new prints?

My son is teething, and I'm a bad mom.

This past Tuesday, after having to pick Tycho up from daycare due to a purported fever (of which there was none when I took him to the doctor that same day), I couldn't take the screaming anymore. I drove into a parking lot in a fit of desperation and took my wailing son out of the car, trying to calm him down with hugs and kisses, applesauce packs, Tylenol, and teething toys while innocent bystanders stared at the scene: A frazzled mom and a toddler with limbs akimbo, the sound of his cries of pain echoing off the nearby buildings.

That is when I lost my shit.

... I started this blog as a way to, among other Fox Family shenanigans, keep track of the funny moments that happen in parenting. But things in our house have been far from funny since Tycho's teeth started coming in. He already has a handful of teeth that proved to be no problem when they came in, but I don't know if it's molars or eye teeth or what the hell is going on. The past week or so, my once-happy boy has suddenly transformed into a red-faced, drooling, screaming mess that literally can't be contained.

After trying ten minutes to calm him down, I finally gave up and put Tycho back in the carseat, singing the ABCs more as a way to keep me from yelling desperately into his face than to distract him. We were only a few minutes away from the house, but as I shut the backseat door and rested my head on the car, trying to compose myself and bracing myself to get into a car that had transformed into the seventh layer of hell, I knew those minutes would feel like an eternity.

I'm not proud of what happened on that drive home. All I can say is, there's only so far patience will take you, and eventually, everyone reaches their breaking point. Mine happened while sitting at a red light, watching in the rearview mirror as Tycho started to thrash his legs in protest and pain, and...

I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could without scaring the shit out of Tycho, but it was still enough to stop him in his tracks for all of two seconds. I had lost all self-control.

Then I cried. I completely crumbled, y'all, and gave in to the shoulder-shaking, ugly-faced, shameful sobbing of someone who had reached the end of her rope. Both of us had tear-streaked faces by the time I pulled into my parking spot, and after giving myself a moment to wipe my eyes and take a deep breath, I grabbed Tycho from his carseat and stroked his cheeks, too.

When I tell people that we practice gentle parenting (without really calling it that, as we're not huge into labels), I imagine that they think I'm always cool, calm, and collected. After all, Tycho is a happy kid and, for the most part, I'm a happy and involved mama who strives to keep him curious and always learning.

I'm no robot, people. I have feelings and emotions and a button that is pushed on the daily and shit that threatens to be lost on a now-regular basis. Just like every other parent in this world. My temper is fierce and my patience is limited, and while I try to hold it back as much as possible, I've broken down more times as a mother than I have over any other time of my life.

And as much as I know it's not true, there are days -- like Tuesday -- that make me believe I'm a bad mom.

After I put him to bed (where he continued to cry for around 20 minutes before finally falling asleep, and while I'd normally go up after 15 to soothe him, that shit? It was lost hours ago), I cracked open a beer and turned on some mindless television in an attempt to wash the day away. As I swirled the beer in the bottle, I started thinking... you know, as bad a day as I was having, he was, too. And even worse, he can't tell me why.

I repeated it over and over... "Tycho wasn't giving me a hard time to be an asshole, he was just having a bad day." Eventually, the lingering anger finally faded away and was replaced with sympathy. He was scared, helpless, confused, and as Matt put it, "He's probably sitting there thinking, this is my life now. All there is, is pain." Can you even imagine how bleak life must be when you're in such agony and can't find any way to help yourself?

My parenting philosophy is gentle, and so long as I'm trying, learning, and wanting to be better, I'm doing a damn good job. It doesn't mean that losing it once in a while is out of the question, especially when the times are really, really hard. And while Tycho deserves my best at all times, it doesn't mean I have to be perfect as a mother.

Poor baby slept that whole night, probably a combination of wanting to escape and extreme exhaustion after crying for a full three hours. When I got him out of bed the next morning, he smiled at me and snuggled into my shoulder, and I almost lost it again... but this time, with a sigh of relief. I snuggled back, thankful that the worst appeared to be over.

This, too, shall pass.

Watch as I do Sirsasana! :)

Perhaps not very gracefully, and certainly not the best picture quality (thanks, iPhone), but as promised... photos of headstand, as posed by Yours Truly. :)

(I apologize for the use of a pillow for my head. The floor is hard as a... wooden rock, though. And for the booty shots, but you gotta get up somehow!)

First, tripod headstand! I can actually do this one with little effort, and end up smiling -- stupidly, I might add -- the entire time.

And then, bound headstand. You can tell I find this one significantly more difficult, as I make some ridiculous scrunched-up faces and have to remind myself out loud to BREATHE, DAMMIT.

Ta-da! Hope you enjoyed! :)

Suicide hotlines are there to help.

In light of the passing of Robin Williams: If you are or someone you know is considering suicide, please call a suicide hotline. They are free, they will listen, and they are there to help you. Here are the suicide crisis organizations around the world if you need it.

While I personally have my own demons to fight, I'm lucky to have only had temporary trysts with depression. On those days, I can barely hear anyone around me, the walls are so thick and impenetrable, and the air feels so viscous that it's difficult to walk, much less get out of bed. To imagine feeling that way on a regular basis is terrifying to say the least, so I can understand why suicide would be seen as a way out.

I have so much to say, so many tears to shed... but I find my voice stifled by the grief. I know this isn't what Williams would want, though; he would want us all to get through this with laughter and joy. So today, and every day thereafter, that's what I will try to do.

I encourage you to do the same, by whatever means necessary. ♥

And seriously... if you need help, please call the suicide hotline above. You're also welcome to share your thoughts here, if you'd like. Remember: Your life is worth fighting for.

Genie, you're free. pic.twitter.com/WjA9QuuldD
— The Academy (@TheAcademy) August 12, 2014

Nursenastics, gymnurstics, whatever... the nursing toddler

This was pretty much Tycho yesterday:

Ooh, are these... they are! Nenes! Oh my god, they're more accessible than I thought. I mean, so long as Mommy's here, there are nenes! How cool is that!

What's that? Oh, sorry, Mommy, I don't mean to be intrusive. But your nenes are right here and I can't reach them unless I go into your shirt. And... wait, what's this? A nene holster?! I don't approve! Guess I have to go under this one, too.

Oh, thanks, Mommy. I know you're just trying to relax and all, but I appreciate you giving me better access. Just make yourself comfortable. This front walkway looks nice. Now, I don't want to lie down, I just learned to walk and I want to do it ALL THE TIME. So how do we do this...

From the side?

Maybe if I twist this way... nope.

One foot in the air doesn't work, either.

Oh sorry, am I pinching you?

How about... yeah, your lap works, I guess. But first, lemme get that nene!

*latches*

*wiggles side to side*

*twists legs around until sitting*

*finally settles down*

Ah, that's nice. Wish I had known about this sooner!

Toddler nursing is SO MUCH FUN.

Sirsasana for a soaring heart (and the Loving-Kindness meditation)

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"Gratitude is when the memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind."

Lionel Hampton

I went to yoga class yesterday feeling a heaviness in my heart and in my mind, one that kept me up until late the night before and woke me up super early the next morning. I was exhausted, physically and mentally, so I approached the practice with a bit of fear.

And of course, considering this month's challenge pose is headstand (Sirsasana), that fear was only heightened. :)

The practice started off with an adaptation of the Loving-Kindness meditation, which we've been doing for a few weeks and from which I've really started to benefit. I've included it at the bottom of this post if you want to give it a try. We then went into vinyasas that prepared us for the base of headstand, and after a quick demonstration, we were off. (Literally. Like, off the ground.)

In my experience, inverted poses can be terrifying before you try them and giddy when you finally achieve them. On an emotional level, inverted asanas turn everything upside down, challenging everything you know about what's up or down, right or wrong. Getting up there shakes your confidence a bit, but increases it exponentially when you get your feet in the air. It's invigorating, and not just because all the blood is rushing to your head!

I'll admit that, the first time I tried headstand and actually achieved it, I did some sort of weird internal cry -- you know, where you just release all your emotions and it comes out not as tears, but as a childlike joy that's difficult to contain. It's said that our emotions are stored deep within our bodies, so when we open those places that are typically closed off, a tidal wave of emotions isn't too far behind.

I found that place yesterday, as I pressed my hands into the floor and sent my feet skyward. All of the stress and anxiety that I had felt throughout that day and the previous day left me in one fell swoop, and I found myself starting to giggle! Stupid move, as I lost my balance and had to engage my core pretty intensely to get my feet back on the ground without toppling over, but man... that sense of happiness took over any self-doubt I may have been holding on to.

Today, I continue to hold that feeling and have pretty much made it my mission to try experiencing this every day. Headstand (and yoga in general!) has made such a positive influence on how I see the world, and I hope it does the same for you, too.

"Since Handstand brings you face to face with your insecurities and fears, it provides a wonderful laboratory where you can observe and work on overcoming all such emotions. Handstand offers a controlled situation in which you can develop self-confidence, courage, and, Cooper emphasizes, a somewhat playful and curious approach to solving challenges."

Yoga Journal

As promised, here's that Loving-Kindness meditation! I hope you all enjoy it. :)

This meditation focuses on developing loving kindness for three types of people in your life: One who brings you joy, one who may pose a challenge to you, and finally, yourself. The first two people can change each meditation and you should always include yourself; the point is to overcome any negativity or ill feelings, and it begins with developing a loving acceptance of yourself. When you achieve that, you will find it much easier to develop loving-kindness towards others.

Find a comfortable position. You can sit in a meditative pose, prop up against the wall, or even lie down (but don't fall asleep!). Make any adjustments your body may need to achieve relaxation. When you've found your center, close your eyes and focus on your breath. Begin to slow down your breathing, taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out. Find your calm.

First, envision someone who brings joy to your life, someone who makes it better simply by being who they are. Hold that person's face in the forefront of your mind, and while evoking loving-kindness towards that person, repeat three times:

May you be well.

May you be at peace.

May you be at ease.

May you be happy.

Then, shift your attention to someone in your life who is giving you difficulty. (If this is your first loving-kindness meditation, don't go for the jugular -- instead, choose someone who ranks maybe a five on a scale of 1-10.) Hold that person's face in the forefront of your mind, and while evoking loving-kindness towards that person, repeat three times:

May you be well.

May you be at peace.

May you be at ease.

May you be happy.

Finally, focus inward. You may find it most challenging to wish these things for yourself! But know that you absolutely deserve it as much as anyone else. Hold yourself in the forefront of your mind, and while evoking loving-kindness towards yourself, repeat three times:

May I be well.

May I be at peace.

May I be at ease.

May I be happy.

Note that this meditation may feel mechanical or awkward at times, or even bring up feelings that are contrary to loving-kindness. And that's totally okay! It's important to be patient and kind towards yourself, allowing whatever emotions that arise to be received with a spirit of friendliness and affection. Over time, and (probably most importantly) when you start to feel loving-kindness towards yourself, you'll find that it's much easier to extend that feeling to others.

Namaste. :)

(I'm hoping that blogging about yoga becomes a regular thing, as I've been getting into that -- and running! -- in the hopes that I become fit from the inside, out. So keep an eye out for more posts, maybe some photos of poses, and more inspiration!)

Today, I stop pumping.

I've been staring at the screen for almost an hour now, not sure what to say or where to start, so I guess I'll start from the beginning! How appropriate that I broach this topic during World Breastfeeding Week.

I was so excited to nurse my son before he was born. I had all the materials, had read all the books, and had neglected to buy all the bottles because heck, why would I need them before I went back to work, anyway. So when he was born, it was devastating to me that nursing just didn't work out. He had a posterior tongue tie and thrush, both of which were diagnosed and treated well after we had stopped nursing, and I only managed to make it a week before I admitted that continuing would just wreak further havoc on my body and my sanity.

To say it was not a great experience is... not telling the whole truth. In reality, it sucked.

Matt and I agreed to switch Tycho to formula, which was difficult not only because of the emotions I had tied to breastfeeding and the sudden crashing down of my dreams when it didn't work out, but because all the stuff that comes with it. There are bottles, and finding the right formula, and cleaning out those bottles, and water temperature and cleanliness, and measuring scoops of powder at 2am. Formula-feeding is NOT for the weak. But we made it work, and as my body started to heal and my hormones settled, I finally found my happy place again.

After returning to work, I vied again for that breastfeeding experience, and I decided to relactate. To do that, though, meant I was tethered to a pump up to eight times a day to bring my milk back, then down to three or four times at work while I'd nurse at home. Every. single. day. It's been over a year now since I decided to relactate, and while it has been entirely worth it and I'm down to just one pump session a day, I've finally reached my breaking point.

So today, I stop pumping. It's time to call it quits.

But as I write that, I'm starting to mentally freak out. Am I ready for this? Is Tycho ready? Is this really the right time?

My mother-in-law recently came to visit, and she watched Tycho while Matt and I took a mini-cation to Virginia. It was a great time for us, and Tycho did really well with her. We had prepared milk for him while we were gone, but he ended up not taking too much and was just fine regardless. When we returned, I found that two bags of milk were still sitting in the freezer, untouched. Considering, I'm sure he's ready.

Tycho still loves nursing (or "nenes", as he calls it), and I'm more than willing to continue nursing until he's done. At this point, though, he's only down to two, sometimes three times a day, and is otherwise too on the move to bother with it. And as for milk during the day? We've already got him to accept water at daycare and at home, so it won't be a huge adjustment at all.

We have about four days' worth of fresh milk in the refrigerator, and maybe a week's worth of milk in the freezer. Enough to see him through to 16 months.

As for me? I do have some fear that stopping the pump will lead to Tycho wanting to wean earlier rather than later, but I'm admittedly very ready to be done with pumping. I've been ready for a while, I've just been afraid to pull the trigger. But, just as some day I'll have to send him off for his first day at school, drop him off at college, or even watch as he marries his true love, I have to face the fact that he's growing up.

I hope to take it as gracefully as I know he will. :)

My (not-so-little) nursling! ♥

Why I'm a Solitary Witch

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I’ve been Pagan in some shape or form for most of my life (which I can say now as I’m older than 26... yikes!). I’ve been to rituals hosted by individuals and by covens, events sponsored by various Pagan groups, and learning opportunities within the community. I’ve loved meeting new friends through these events, and am eagerly awaiting the moment when I have a few free evenings to spend with them again and things to which we can bring our son.

But for all these things I’ve participated in, I’ve never, ever been part of a coven.

I’ve considered it many times, even fantasized about it, especially when I’ve been welcomed to join a coven. How wonderful would it be to have a group of like-minded individuals, celebrating the Sabbats and Esbats and rituals and life events! Not to mention what amount of knowledge I could gain from the other individuals, many of whom come from very different paths from my own and could teach me a wealth of information. They’d be my brothers and sisters on my path.

Honestly, though... it hasn’t worked out. And it’s never been them; it’s been me.

I’m not the kind of witch who does well within the constraints of a group, and notably within a coven. I have no formal creed, no specific deities, no branch of faith that binds me to others. Answering to a High Priest or High Priestess would be, in a way, too confining for my spirituality and personal growth as a Pagan.

I also wouldn’t want to be that person to lead a coven or other such group. Have I considered it? Absolutely! I’ve hosted a few rituals (and loved it!) and have had in-depth conversations with witches who have asked me to start a group, one they would willingly join and invite others to. It’s crossed my mind more than once.

I will happily join others in celebrating the turns of the seasons and the rites that honor ourselves and the gods. But I admit that I’m happily spoiled right now to my individual brand of spirituality, one that finds serenity in a walk illuminated by the light of the moon, finds myself in a circle cast alone and a candle lit for meditation. My relationship with Spirit is, as of right now, one of individuality.

Whether that be a result of circumstance – after all, it’s pretty difficult to be involved with a busy group when you’re raising a toddler! – or personal preference, I’m not sure. Maybe a bit of both. And will this change in the future, especially if I find or create a group that welcomes those who may not toe the coven’s line? If that’s where my path leads me, then it just may!

I’d love to find a group that welcomes open discourse, stimulating conversation, and discussion groups that sometimes fall way off topic (let’s face it, that stuff really happens), as well as insightful and inspiring ritual. And if it could remain drama-free, even better, though I’ve learned in my 15-odd years of Paganism and almost 30 years of life that asking that much is often times difficult. :)

For now, as I’ve yet to find that cohesive... something that is needed for my soul for a successful circle, I’ll remain a happy solitary. And will keep my heart open to the possibilities!