Getting it Flowing Again: Reflections on Guilt, Glue less collage, Percoset, and that Old Creative Feelin

Wow. So it's been awhile since I last posted. Like I think the last things I was talking about here was yogurt and Christmas, not necessarily in that order. So What's happened since then? Well a lot. Both sets of parents visited for Christmas, and then came again a month ago, one set to help take care of me recover from kneee surgery (ripped ACL surgery, which I admittedly made into a life and death issue on Facebook, comparing myself to Frida Kaloh, drama queen as I am) and the other to help us try and buy a new HOUSE, which is crazy considering we only own about one tenth of the bricks in the patio in the front yard of our current tiny house, and this new one is a 5 bedroom on a gorgeous sprawling 2 acres...More about that in a minute. (yes the following picture is a teaser to provoke your interest...so!)

So the parents came, and remarkably they get along, and my mother helped with Piper duty and saved my life in that way in that well, for an entire 2 weeks I actually HAD a life, revolving deliciously around myself and my needs and my healing instead of just Pipers...

...and I feel guilty for even typing it folks (so much so I had to rationalize it by adding "and my healing" to this sentence retroactively to justify myself)but other than the occasional power struggles with said mother-behold the inner teenager reemerges after one week in close proximity with the source of maternal chromosomes, Piper, beware-it was BLISS, yes BLISS...I would have had to eat a lot of flippin yogurt to give myself that deep sense personal satisfaction again...

Ahh...a whole four hours at a time to myself...occasional shooting pain in my knee be damned (well the Percoset helped with both that shooting pain and the sense of bliss I imagine, as well as a pleasantly loose sense of the passing of those 4 hours into something that felt somewhere between 2 hours and eternity)I got to read, make digital collages, jewelery, drink entire cups of coffee in one sitting...it was deluxe to be sure. The only downside was by the time my mom left I was filled with both longing and appricieation for both her past efforts distant and recent in the care of both me and my daughter, and for the kind of time I will not get to myself again till Piper's in college. Or I'm retired, or I'm in a nursing home. whichever comes first.

sigh..Anyway, I made them on this cool app called Pic Collage on my Ipad (they are not paying me to say this, but again, I wish they would)and I have also been making collages for every month of Pipers life on it. Here is the one that I did for last month

at any rate it's super easy to use and feels like a creative effort and sort of like making a real paper collage without the hassel of, you know, glue, and the like. Also you can do free form traditional pictures laying about style ones, like this

which really give you that creative feelin, which has been a little lackin in my life lately, tell ya what. Oh I also made this one other collage using both Pic Collage and another app called Sketchbook Express

also for I-Pad, which is also super awesome and not messy but makes pretty great paint and pen like effects, even airbrush, on and did I mention that it is FREE and so is Pic Collage? Now that is particularly awesome, especially if you are cheap or broke or a bonefied starvin artist (who happens to have an I-pad? I dunno. Maybe you spent all your money just getting the I-pad and are as a result only eating yogurt this month. In that case props to you, nearly starving artist)
Ok I think I am rambling again. And I swear I am not on, nor have I been on for a long while, Percoset, you strange minxy mistress. The Percoset, not you, dear readers, all two of you (hi Mom! Hi Farrah!)

What would we do without our moms and our best friends? And creative outlets occasionally. Just wither up and DIE I tell you. Or resort to drinking heavily. And more Perk. sigh. Ok. Time to sign off.

hope you get inspired to take on some creative project this week.
more on the new house and stuff later
xxx
jess

The Fleeting Bliss of Yogurt and other such Oral Pleasures.

Haven't blogged in awhile, not that I haven't wanted too. I have thought of it often when I got those rare moments where time and space align and getting to sit down and write, or do anything really makes me feel like those ladies on the yogurt commercials where they savor a bite of Danon like it's Ambrosia or their last meal or something.

So a brief rundown on the holidays to catch myself up. Thanksgiving this year was at our lovely midwife Marie's house, and not only did she prepare a scrumptious feast with all the fixins but served it on her mother's china, with candles in the real silver candlesticks freshly polished by my husband.

Piper was at the table and less impressed by the decorative elements than by what we were eating. She was not quite five and a half months old and Marie was asking me if she was showing any interest in food.I said she was and that she'd already had a few tastes of things (including but not limited to her first taste of any food besides plain yogurt, Guiness Beef stew, so shoot me! ). Marie then asked me if she was sitting up, which she wasn't yet, and telling me that meant her digestion probably wasn't ready when I absent mindedly took another bite of sweet potatoes near Pipers face and she grabbed the spoon and did the inevitable stuff in mouth trick that babies do with anything that comes near their face. So she tasted it, and it seemed some light went on in her little brain that said "hey...food is GOOD...I can totally eat this stuff!" and proceeded to launch herself towards the spoon with both hands and mouth open. So I guess she was indeed ready for solid food. Suddenly the highlight of thanksgiving was not the delicious turkey but watching Piper getting bright orange sweet potatoes all over herself, the table, and anyone sitting near her.

So the baby just woke up, I was actually nursing her when I started typing this on the I-pad, somehow during which she managed to drop off a full hour before she usually does. Not wanting to look the old gift horse in the mouth I scurried into the kitchen to eat another bowl of the green chili pinto beans we had for dinner. And I was just putting another glorious mouthful into my mouth, relishing the sound of my own self chewing and thinking "those yogurt commercials are no joke, all of those women getting gacked out over yogurt must be moms!" When the baby started crying and was soon brought by my husband into the kitchen.
I cannot say at that particular moment I was terribly happy to see them. I was also not happy when he sort of looked sheepishly offended when I asked if I could be alone for a few moments and he chose to go into the living room where I could still hear every cry and reassuring word, when all I wanted to do was listen to was the water heater and myself chewing for a few more minutes! Five minutes of relative silence! Is that to much to ask? These days, I realize it kinda is...but none the less he must have picked up my psychic cue (or maybe just looked at my face)because when she started crying again he took her to her room where I quickly heard the muffled sounds of baby Einstein...and she starts fussing a few minutes later and heeeerrrrre he is again....sigh. Deeeeepppp breathhhhsss....

Thankfully he did offer to change her diaper, which he does often...but I need to return to her care.My five minutes in Heaven is up. Till later, may all you moms out there enjoy your fermented milk products with reckless abandon.

Radical Reality:True Confessions of New Mom

it's 7:55. I'm already tired enough that I could almost go to bed.
I'm currently typing in my underwear (which I might ass have a smiley face formation of three holes in the crotch

chewed by the puppy I am fostering, due to the fact I haven't picked up up my laundry more than a handful of times since the babys been born)and drinking coconut water and eating chocolate chips out of a bowl, and PRAYING my daughter, as much as I love her, does not wake up before I finish writing this.

She was fed formula for the second time in her life today (the first was on the day she was born in the hospital Newborn ICU unit, and not my choice). This is because today is also the day that I turned in my Final Graduate Exam Paper "for the fulfillment of requirements of the Masters of Arts of Arts Education" as I dutifully typed on the cover page. Never mind that I was still working on it at 4:20, 10 minutes before the deadline when at least one other younger student who does NOT have kids was probably celebrating being finished by getting stoned. Never mind the fact that I was printing it off still at 4:40, and that the citations were deeply flawed, the images weren't all in color or present at all, and the paper wasn't proofread at all. The fact is I got it in.

Unfortunately for my self esteem and hopefully not for Piper's health, perhaps due to stess I was not able to pump enough milk to feed her for the final five hours I was on campus trying desperately to finish the paper, the first attempt, no more than a table spoon, which went into the coffee I shared with my husband this morning (hey,it tastes like coffee mate and we were out of half and half) and the other attempt barely able to coat the bottom of the bottle, washed down the drain...

Ofcourse I fed her when I got home, and ofcourse I am lucky to have a supportive and reliable husband who I can trust to have the baby by himself for five hours, and of course only AFTER the Bloody Maria (bloody mary mix + tequila=delicious, especially with little lemon, wosteshire, pickled peppers and the traditional celery...) and the glass of wine WITH dinner of sausage and lentil soup from a recipient on Pinterest (which my husband made on the first of the last two evenings I spent typing till 1:30 on a paper due less than 48 hours later)

THEN and ONLY THEN did my milk come in enough to pump, which likely will either be dumped or put into my husbands next White Russian in case of emergency

(thsi is "the dude". this is not my husband. If you are not acquainted with "the dude", make one of those drinks and introduce yourself

and ofcourse she woke up before I finished writing this. and I did try the formula wich I thankfully had left out in warm water, just in case...and though at first it was awkward and I accidentally gleeked it in her face, and I felt guilty and also was a little offended that she seemed to take it as readily as the boob, was disturbed to find it gave her almost instantaneous explosive whoopie cushion sound shits

(no joke) and was vindicated to find that after a coupla minutes she started making frownie confused faces and started rooting for my boob...which I have to admit I gave her.
so she'll sleep a little better tonight. at least it's natural. and after tasting the forumla, I don't blame her. The remainder of the four pack will be for EMERGENCY STARVATION SITUATIONS only.
and hopefully not just for emergency Margarita...

ok that's enough honesty for one night...
hope ya'll have a good weekend.
I know I will...looks like I have a babysitter tomorrow night!
(might need that formula sooner than I thought)
xxx
jess
ps. please excuse typos. after not even having the energy to proofread my final paper, especially after said bloody maria, I cannot bring myself to effectively edit this one.

Somewhere between Pink and Cow): Body Issues Part Two

You know after that last post, particularly after the imeadiete audience responce, of course from other women I thought I shoudl go into a little more detail about the whole body thing.
I thought I should be a little more detailed and a little less glib.

Sigh

Ok so here goes sincerity.

So I actually started trying to work out about a month ago. I started doing little excersizes in the bathroom. 25 core contractions standing up. Standing on my tip toes while brushing my teeth. Flexing my neck and chin muscles to try and get rid of the wattles. Even that corny "we must, we must, we must increase our bust" chest thrusting arm movement thing I learned in like fourth grade, ironically from my lesbian gym teacher.

it seemed to be working a little. And then life took over and it gradually started tapering off.

And then I tried the work out video track a coupla times. Which really was hillarious, because it was this super outdated corny ass Crunch Fitness video from 2004 that either my girl Farrah or my (strangely very very large) ex neighbor left behind when she moved out.
It's called Dance Party Workout.

wow.

it was kinda fun. Ryan and me would put on workout clothes.Well, I don't really have any,some ill fitting pumas from the early 2000s, Target yoga pants, and an INDUSTRIAL STRENGHT hot pink and tangerine sports bra, kinda sexy actually, purchased for me by my husband in my absence, also from Tar-shay boutique.

and we would do it. well kinda (crossover wha? how do you do the grapevine again?? EFF!)till the baby woke up and started howling, at which point Ryan would put her in the sling and we would finish. And I would feel better afterwards after I got the hang of it. We did it like 4 times. I even did this ridiculous pilates video a coupla times. God some of those moves just look asinine. That one where you pump your arms up and down again with your body in a v? Re-effin-diculous.

yeah it never really looks like that...does it? yeah right.

anyway I felt strong after. And stood up straighter. And held my belly in more. Which I still am endeavoring to do somewhat. Little things. Trying to sit with engaged muscles when sitting, sewing, whatever. Trying to sit up straight on the toilet of all things. Trying to bend over from the waste. And my stomach muscles are getting stonger...The belly gets smaller and starts lower but still refuses to budge.

But the truth is I have always had it. Since puberty anyway. I lost it once in college, I did the master cleanse for like three days, and then was to poor to eat much else but quiona and tomatoes and kale from the free communtity vegetable patch for awhile, and WOw I got down to like 130 pounds or so, maybe less. Oh and then there was a breif period of dating Yoga Boy and my equally brief affair with Bikram Yoga. That felt good too. When I wasn't injuring myself. This one killed it for me. Yeah that looks comfortable. OUch.

Aren't you only supposed to get tennis elbow playing tennis?

anyway. I also lost a little weight when I started dancing Flamenco before I got pregnant. I was actually going like twice or three times a week at one point. Also with yoga. But which would you rather do that? or this...

Flamenco School - Teaser Trailer from Brent Morris on Vimeo.

I really do think I would like to start flamenco again. Flamenco is more of a lifestyle...a passion, and its damn sexy. And cheaper than therapy. The stomping as my friend Shannon calls them "stabby" days really comes in handy to channel the old aggression. Wich, with the sleep deprivation and dehydration inherent in breast feeding a and raising a small child would be useful.

and then there is the issue of dieting. Which I am generally against. I resent the idea of it on principle. Moreover I used to resent it on FEMINST principles. Why should women starve themselves? For the approval of men? As one would say in the parlance of the times when I was a militant shaved headed feminst, read the mid 90's, "as IF!" I used to keep my pit and leg hair long as quality control AGAINST that kind of bullshit. Any man who couldn't take me as I came out of the box couldn't take me at all. (And while my husband clearly takes me as I am (bless him, I know I AM a handfall, and more often than not a HAIRY handful...Now, my hairyness is less political and more laziness and yes,time and energy related, as in LACK of...see sleep deprivation above)
it's a jungle down there

(no these legs aren't mine. and the hair isn't real either. supposedly they are hairy TIGHTS you can use to ward of sexual assault when alone in public at night. Just carry them in your purse, slip off your flats, and VOILA! instant repulsion...or is it a prank? anyway talk about quality control...

At any rate I still think women should rock any hair length or location or weight they choose, and if men can't handle it, fuck them, well actually, DON't.

and I will continue to work on my body, and try and accept it for what it is: compact, curvy, busty, bubble butted, sassy. and not for what it's not: (ready skinny.)
and I will even try to shave my legs every once in awhile. And not just for date night. But for a mini skirt. Meow!

ps. So I weigh about 165 pounds right now. On the top end of my all time heaviest weights. Which doesn't matter so much as for reference.

pps. Don't read about that Keto Diet folks. It will fuck you up. I ate a pat of butter today, man. Straight. No chaser. No BREAD. and I was all "yeah man, it's gonna make me loose WEIGHT, burning FAT baby...yeah...uh huh...right. maybe if I was also running triatholons and eating zero carbs. or at least still doing that Crunch workout video...but a girl can dream...

Reflections from A Rare Moment of Quietude:Body Issues and other musings, three Months in

The husband is out and the baby is sleeping. The rain is falling softly outside and Cat power is serenading me from the Pandora station.

Piper turns three months old tomorrow. How did this happen. It's hard to believe that she was ever this small.

especially because the little chunker looks like this now

and also hard to believe I ever looked like this

yeah being preggo was fun. I ate whatever I wanted. Then again I pretty much always eat whatever I want (tonight I ate lasagna AND fettuccine alfredo)
so speaking of being a chunker...
actually I recently found some before and after pics that are pretty interesting...
during
before

after

so not quite where I was but not that far either.

And sometimes it seems further away than others. Ryan keeps telling me it takes 9 months to break it, so it will take maybe 9 months to remake it. Now if meals like tonights stay a rarity it will take me less time than that.( I actually bet my dad a meal in which the looser has to cook for the other and their friends, including waiting on them, that we would both go without all refined wheat products for a month, penalty for cheating being no coffee and for me no sugar for two days...oopps. looks like no chocolate for me tomorrow...)

Technically I'd like to be in better shape than I was before. Because I am 33 now, and it's not like it's going to get easier. I am not saying I need abs of steel, but I gotta say I wouldn't mind lookin like Pink...

but that's ok. even if my undies are now size large, my dress size now 12 (two sizes up from my size medium dress size 10)I have mostly contented myself with buying accessories, which always fit...like my new Betsey Johnson sunnies...

and then there is Piper, which is the best accessory I have...
oh yeah. and then there is that super cute puppy...

so it goes. motherhood I think suits me. On the good days. On the bad days I wonder who entrusted me with a child and perhaps if they are coming back to pick her up. And then there are the bad body image days when I feel like a milk cow or another unflattering synonym for female bovine.

at least I still have my sense of humor.
ok. on to the next post.
hearts.
jess

The Politics of Sleeping, Waking and Parenting, Part 1

Miraculously,
my husband and daughter are sleeping at the same time.

(not in the configuration they are currently sleeping, but an adorable enough pic I thought it would would best illustrate)

In the room as I now type, the only other sound the wave sound machine from Walmart I lent my best friend to help her sleep. She was just staying with us for a week, a very special time in both of our lives. Especially considering that while we spent most of our time being wild and gong out dancing in outlandish outfits whenever we could,we were both taking our first stabs at motherhood, albeit her new baby is actually a dog.

It's a long story, but to tell it shorthand, my dog Lulu (for all intents and purposes my baby before the event of my actual baby) had puppies and Farrah fell in love with a little squirrel colored one and took it on the plane with her, in a 25 dollar Walmart bag she bought this morning. ( I swear Walmart is not paying me to plug their store, though I wish they would. Apparently I spend more money there than I thought, which is what I suppose happens when you grow up an anti cooperate liberal in a town where there are various options of where you can buy things super early and super late, and then move to a town where there is only one. )

(the one on the left is LuLu)

Anyway, neither the event of Lulu having puppies nor Farrah taking one was entirely planned or entirely spontaneous. (The child stirs and fusses in the background, will she stay asleep? I wait with baited breath....)

aaaaAAAANNDDDD...she wakes. Two feedings, two diaper changes, a leisurely reading of this months W magazine while breastfeeding and a bowl of pesto pasta later (made entirely from the pantry, garden, and fridge), I return to my blog.

Oh and I have also made myself a cocktail, also from around the kitchen ingredients, and am now feeling quite fine. Especially since I handed the kid off to the now awakened Papa and can luxuriously type with BOTH hands!

and just then the baby wakes up and it's the next day before I get to get back to this.

Now the only sounds are the birds singing in the back yard and the quiet sounds of Piper breathing, thankfully fast asleep in her crib behind me.

There were a whole lot of thing I was planning on writing about as soon as I got this precious time, and now that I have it I can't think of it. So I suppose I will free associate a little bit.


and she cries suddenly. no body likes a rambler anyway...
Do I dare pick her up immediately and perhaps waste the chance that she go back to sleep?

yes. just after finishing typing the sentence before last.That's what new moms do I suppose. That and check after the babe has been sleeping for more than an hour and a half if she is still ALIVE. sigh...

moments later...
and she apparently after an minute of holding and an offer of boob drifts back to sleep...such is the way of having a two month old. Asleep...nooo awake and bright eyed!

and in a few minutes she will be crying again. and sometimes mamma feels like crying too. because, for instance, that is the sound mamma got woken up to twice last night, once at 3:30 and once at 5:30, both before dawn!

sigh...it's lucky they are so darn cute. It keeps you from throwing them off a bridge. Or yourself. If anyone knew exactly what they were in for when they have a baby, no one in their right mind would do it.

but I love her. Gosh I love her. How can you resist that smile?

I suppose I will keep her and hopefully my sanity another day.

have a great weekend.

xx jEss

ps. she had her SECOND bath today (to those of you counting, yes she has only had two baths in two months, don't judge! she's a um..."natural" baby! anyway, adorable video taken by daddy and pics coming as soon as we get a new card reader from Radio Shack)
pps. speaking of adorable and natural babies, thank you auntie Gillian for the organic cotton Kale onesie. so hip and appropriate! Thanks to the advice of midwife Barbarra Pepper, this kid was partially made out of a lot of kale!

Post Partum: One Marvelous and Mystifying month later...

so tomorrow it's been one month since Piper was born.
And I feel such a blur of emotions I don't know where to start.
I have cried more tears of joy and nostalgia, fear and longing, regret and self doubt, beauty and pain this month than perhaps ever in my life.

Today was the day of Piper's first bath.

you can see for a moment she is not crying, and I swear even made a face almost like a smile till her head got accidentally bonked on the edge of the tub and caused her to cry almost inconsolably till the end of the bath.

and I say almost inconsolable because there was a minute there where she almost stopped crying...I was leaning down and talking to her, reassuring her, telling her it wasn't so bad...and it's almost like she understood, not my words but my tone...and after, when it was all done and I held her to my chest and told her it was over,and she finally calmed down my heart swelled with LOVE.

people have told me the love you have for your child will scare you. but I was not prepared to be so overtaken with the thought that there is no one more important, more beautiful, nothing I wouldn't do for this precious little creature.
Afterwords I went back inside and put on the record Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder, which my parents tell me they bought on the way back from the hospital after my birth, and danced around the living room with a now content and relaxed Piper, crying my eyes out with love and joy and sentiment to the song "Isn't She Lovely", the song my parent's had bought the record for. and it was beautiful to hold her, dancing around the living room, marveling at my tiny marvelous creature and the succession and persistence of life itself.
and I wept tears of joy.

x
jess