Haiku Friday - Sleep and Play

He woke up at two
but he went down at nine, so
that is five whole hours!

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Sledding tomorrow
Venturing out of the house
with both boys in tow

Attending playgroup
meeting new people makes me
a little nervous.

It will be good, though
for us all to get out and
play with some others.

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I've been pumping a bottle a day for Jude in addition to, well, feeding him. This gives Luke a chance for that special food-bonding (the way to a man's heart...) and gives me hope Jude will do better at taking the bottle than Quentin did. I think Q took two or three bottles when he was very young and then never again. This means I have some hope of a social life. Well, as much hope as I ever had, which, granted, is not much.

Speaking of social life, I'm going to playgroup tomorrow! Believe it or not, my calendar for the next two weeks has like 4 playdates on it from three different local groups! I'm slightly terrified but also hopeful that I'll meet at least a few women I can get along with, whose kids I can stand. This will undoubtedly be good for me AND for Quinn. He's such a social creature, he needs this sort of thing. Tomorrow we're going sledding (if it gets warmer, otherwise we'll just hang out for playgroup). Either way, it should be all kinds of fun. Wish us luck!

35 years of choice

Disclaimer! I know of a few bloggers who steer clear of the sensitive topics. I have previously been one, primarily due to the fact that I have almost as many IRL friends as blogging buddies - but not quite - and I hate to alienate anyone. But today is a special day, a day near and dear to my heart, and so I'm going to go out on a limb, breech the wall, and post about a controversial topic. Please feel free to disagree with my stance and my post. Just don't tell me about it. I won't be publishing debate-esque comments. End disclaimer.

I have a hard time with hardliners when it comes to religion and politics. Nothing is ever black-and-white, but so many people seem incapable of seeing shades of gray. When it comes to the choice debate, the core argument seems to be whether or not an embryo or fetus is a child. The anti-chiocers like to say "It's a child, not a choice." and the pro-choicers like to say "It's just a ball of cells, not a child."

But there are a handful of pro-choicers, like myself, who recognize an embryo and/or fetus as the potential to be a child, especially after that little heart starts beating. Some of us even have children of our own. We've watched that ultrasound screen with bated breath, desperate to hear a hearbeat, to see movement, to know all is well with our child. And whether or not the subject on the screen is "wanted" (that's a whole other post) has little bearing on whether or not it is a child.

So why, if we think of that ball of cells with a beating heart as a child, could we agree to the idea that a woman should have a right to end that life? Well, there are a lot of reasons - how sometimes it's about a child already living a life vs one with the potential for a life, and how the choice is not made easier for those with such a belief - but that's not what this post is about for me.

This post is about - hey, it's not as simple as it seems. The choice to terminate a pregnancy is, for some women (albeit not all), a heartbreaking one. Some women who make the choice suffer from post-abortion stress syndrome afterward. Some women sigh with relief and go on with their life. But no matter who they are or how they feel, they deserve the chance to make that choice.

As for anti-choicers, some of them are misunderstood as well. Pro-choicers often look at anti-choicers as hypocrites. "How can you call yourself 'pro-life' if you are for the death penalty or war?" they ask. But I've known a few staunchly pro-life women in my day who were just that - pro-life. Anti-death penalty, anti-war.

Somehow I think if we, on both sides, had a better capacity to walk in another's shoes, we'd stop being so judgmental of one another. Abortion is not a simple topic and will never be one people agree on. But I wish that we could all stop pigeonholing one another and see the gray.
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This post was brought to you by NARAL's Blog for Choice day. To participate, you can go here to get a button and add your name to the list. Then post today about the importance of a woman's right to choose.

Haiku Friday - Rent Edition

RENT is closing soon
It changed my whole perspective
Never got to see.

When I was a teenager, like most, I thought I had a clue. But senior year really rocked my beliefs about religion and politics to the core. A big part of that was a boy in my speech class who introduced me to the idea of earth-centered religion (after much prompting from me - he was reluctant to be seen as an evangelist) and also to RENT the musical, by way of an original soundtrack. I listened to that soundtrack several times a day for MONTHS. It was complete culture shock and I LOVED it. I loved the music, I loved the sentiment, I loved the characters, despite their flaws. Luke bought me a copy of the soundtrack one year, knowing how I loved it (he wasn't the boy in speech class, by the way), and at one point I lost ONE of the two cds. Another year, Luke bought it for me again. What a good man. I've also seen the movie.

But I never got to see the play itself and that's disappointing. I guess nothing can stay on Broadway indefinitely, and twelve years is a long run. But dammit, it's only been six-and-a-half since my senior year, and not enough time to get the money to go to New York. Perhaps I'll see it off-broadway some day.

Haiku Friday - Whiny Edition

Was delurker day
yesterday, and I posted
Did you comment? Hmmm?

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The weekend's coming
I plan to do not a thing
it's just about time!


It seems like every weekend, every free moment, since my water broke on December 10th has been occupied. There was that whole giving birth thing, then a return to the hospital for phototherapy, the holidays, visits from family, and, well, just no time to RELAX.

This "weekend," though (Luke works Saturdays and has Mondays off most weeks, hence the quotes), we have no plans. NONE! Ok, well, we'll probably go grocery shopping and visit the library. But other than that, I fully intend to do absolutely nothing. Ahhhhhh.

Finding You, Finding Me

Evidently, it's DeLurker Day on blogstreet. This is your opportunity (yes YOU, you know who you are) to stop reading without comment and, well, comment! Let me know you're out there reading. Cause hey, I need the ego-stroke. Thanks to Rude Cactus for coming up with this brilliant plan, Diary of a Modern Matriarch for keeping me in the loop, and Aimee at Greeblemonkey for the button.

One of the most common folk remedies for the baby blues is "take time for yourself." Amidst the endless feedings, diaper changes, and naps, you're supposed to find time to do something for you. Some women just struggle through until maternity leave is over, and then find themselves again when they return to work. Most of the jobs I've had are not what I'd call a good place to feel like more than just one more drone, however.

Other moms will make time for a spa day, or even just a nice hot bubble bath. To his credit, Luke is wonderful for letting me take a bath and relax when I need to. But I still never quite get that sense of release "they" lead you to expect. It's nice, it's relaxing, but ultimately I feel guilty for not spending that time with my family.

Some ladies take up a hobby. They find themselves by losing themselves in something they love. Photography, knitting, scrapbooking, whatever. It's never done it for me, probably because I am the Queen of Unfinished Business. I'll start to learn something or take up a project, fervent and eager. Two weeks later, it will lie half-finished and forgotten and no longer interesting.

So what's a girl to do? With two children, it has become even more imperative that I find some way some how to just feel like ME. Mandie. Not "Mom" or "wife," much joy as both titles bring me.

I went for a drive a few nights ago, my first attempt at driving since giving birth to Jude. It was a short trip, just around the corner to Walgreens for some ice cream (Did you know pregnancy cravings don't go away after you give birth?). But on the way home, a good tune came on the radio and suddenly I was taken away. There were no intelligent conversations to attempt after a day of cleaning up pee, poo, spit-up, and toys, after the mind-numbing repetition of Thomas and Caillou, of having no adult interaction for the past 18 hours, and none of the demands of the past 18 hours to meet. There was only me. There was the road to navigate, the car to command, and the music to sing. I leaned my head back on the headrest, turned up the volume, and sank into myself. It was beautiful.

So what do you do to find yourself after a long day (week, month, etc) of being there for your little ones, and why does it work for you?