All posts by Savvy Spoonie

I am an artist, writer, jeweler, and a Spoonie. Before becoming a Spoonie I was a very busy high achieving attorney and advocate bent on saving the world. Now I'm struggle to redefine my life to fit within my reduced energy level. Some days are better than others. I have fibromyalgia, trigeminal neuralgia, and chronic daily migraine.

Touchy Topic Tuesday…Two?

Awake √
Dressed √ (in jammies, but not naked!!)
Children dressed √
Children fed √
Cats fed √
Dog fed √
Eldest off to school √
Bottle of Prune juice for breast-fed but somehow plugged up baby √
Yesterday’s coffee mug removed from desk √
Today’s coffee mug, full of steaming coffee, placed lovingly on desk √
Piles of work to do √
Blogging anyway √

Welcome back to Touchy Topic Tuesday, that day when I vent my spleen, or, lacking a spleen of my own, troll the blogosphere for the vented spleens of others.

Life with Quilts
features a statement in defense of home birth, including links to some interesting facts and statistics about birthing at home.
Birth is such a personal and touchy subject. I personally believe history speaks volumes, and women’s needs and bodies have long been ignored by the medical establishment. However, many of the doctors I worked with on my last pregnancy and delivery were willing to explore alternative birth options, and pain management options. So hopefully we are seeing a bit more common sense used in our OB’s, when it comes to allowing for a positive birth experience.

Mom 101 brought up the issue of germs and infants this week in her post I’ll take that Hazmat Suit in a 2T please.
The problem with germ paranoia is that over protecting your infant can pose a risk to their health. A baby’s immune system grows and develops by responding to the bacteria and germs the baby encounters. Keeping your home too clean and your baby too protected can actually harm them. Helium has a good short article on the subject.
As for the public bathrooms, obviously it depends on the room itself, but I certainly know I don’t clean and disinfect my bathroom every four hours, so the public restroom at Target is likely to have less bacteria than my bathroom at home. (Although it is other people’s bacteria, which is gross.) Remember! The dirtiest place in any public bathroom is the door!

As for my own kvetch of the week? I am still on the Hillary thing.
I have been making phone calls on her behalf all week, and doing so has made me feel better. I have spoken with women across the nation who feel as I do, that it is our time, that it is time to have a woman represent us, that they have always been able to vote for a man, and now it is time to fight for our woman. Speaking with them has given me hope. I am not a member of a small majority of women who believe choosing an intelligent, savvy and experienced candidate who is a woman is a good thing, I am part of a large group of women. Women who have waited their turn, women who want it now.
So I am calling for Hillary, and if you believe as I do, I am calling on you. Go to HillaryClinton.com and register to make phone calls.
Make a difference, let’s raise our fists and break that glass ceiling, there simply is no reason to wait any longer.

No sleep and too little coffee…

make mommy go… something…something.

Otter has started to get up at 6 a.m.

I abhor six a.m.

Six a.m. is the time I have to get up for court, it was the time I had to get up to work my crappy entry level job an hour’s drive away, it was the time I had to get to get to my insane morning torts class.

Six a.m. is an insufferable time to start my daily routine, it is an abberant time, a warped time of the morning, in between dark and light. A time out of time.

Especially when he really gets up about 5 a.m., but nurses with me in a quasi-doze for an hour before I finally resign myself to my fate and haul my enervated carcass out of bed.

Kick
“Come on Otter… go back to bed.”
Kick,kick
“Ma ma mamamamamamamamamama ma… Da da dadadadada… Ma Da MamaDa”
Smack, punch, kick.
Foot in the face.
“Oh all right, I’ll get up.”

I detest everyone and everything at that time of the day, the cat snuggled next to me is stifling, my husband’s blissful snoring is irksome, the baby’s determination is maddening, the stairs are too long, the floor is too hard, the couch is intolerable.

The first glimpse of the sun is met with the sentiment “Curse you life giving star!”

Then the coffee beans get ground…
and the first wafts of the delectable brew permeate the fog around my consciousness.
With the first sip, the cranky lines around my eyes fade.
With the second sip, I feel as though I might let people live.
With the third, I am human again.

I thank the java gods for their bounty. It appears to be the key to my parenting skills.