Far from June

A little secret.

As a child…I idolized Mrs.. Cleaver.

I was not content in my admiration for her….I decided I was going to BE her, someday.

I would wearing pearls while I made scrambled eggs for breakfast…my makeup would still be fresh when the kids came home from school.

I would be soft spoken…patient…and ever prepared to give the kids a homemade after school snack.

My floors would be chronically clean.

I would have the answer to all problems…and I would think before I would speak.

Dinners would be grand every evening…and I would refill Beav’s and Wally’s milk before it ever got too low.

As it turns out…

Not only do I not wear pearls when I make scrambled eggs…I am usually am not wearing a bra,either.

My makeup is fresh after school…only because I showered at 2 pm.

I am out spoken…impatient…and my kids usually have to scrounge for an after school snack.

My floors? Well, my chair sit in a pile of trampled kettle corn…as I type.

I have the answer to all problems…but it’s usually the wrong answer. I usually speak before I think.

Dinners sometimes involve paper plates and last minute take-out calls…and I tell Beav and Wally to get their OWN stinkin’ milk.

Sweet Mrs.Cleaver passed away on Saturday.

It really made me sad and reminded me of everything I hoped to be…once upon a time.

Tonight at dinner, I told Tom that she had passed…that I was sad…and that I had always wanted to be like her.

I then said, “Well THAT obviously didn’t happen….”

He quickly responded,"It DIDN’T. And do you want to know WHY???”

“Why?”, I asked.

“Because Hollywood was founded on a BED OF LIES!”

I love him more than ever.

He’s right.

It WAS all a bunch of crap.

Like we REALLY believe that she and Ward slept in two, separate twin beds.

Yeah right, June.

We ALL know the truth.

Lead Me to the Bore Hole

A facebook status can reveal oodles about the state of one’s mental health.

Earlier today, my status read:

“Dear Chilean Mine Minister,

Please do not cork the rescue hole yet. Please prepare the Fenix capsule and a can of cooking spray. I am ready for descent. I will tap on the pipe when I am ready to come back up.”

So what’s your guess? How am I holding up? If you guessed “Not Well”…ding, ding, ding….you are a WINNER!

I feel the craziness oozing out of me as I write this.

Let’s start from the beginning of my journey towards a breakdown.

First of all…look at him.

Cute, right?

Don’t be fooled. He has been far from “cute” this week. Don’t let the overalls suck you in. It’s a ploy.

On Monday, October 11th, I made the disastrous decision to get take out from the local Tea Room and get Bryce an orange roll.

The boy hates his fingers to be sticky.

Courtney and I sat in the living room – chatting over lunch. He said he was going to wash his hands. He was carrying a bottle of Softsoap. I told him, “No soap in your hair Brycer…okay?”

“Okaaaaaay”, he replied.

He didn’t take long. Washed his hands and came back. He played with choo-choos….socialized…ran his “errands” around the house…and went to his pooping corner to fill his diaper.

I went to change his diaper and heard water running in our Master Bath.

I then discovered the flood.

“COURTNEY!!!!! COURTNEY!!!!!”, I was absolutely frozen in shock. With panic on her face…she calmly unplugged the hairdryer that was sitting in the lake of water.

She found me in a flooded bathroom….water spilling out of each of my vanity drawers…the floor covered in water…and water creeping into our Master Bedroom.

We rushed to grab towels and stop the flooding. We didn’t have enough towels in the entire HOUSE to soak up this amount of water!

I quickly called Tom.

“YOUR SON!" HE JUST FLOODED OUR BATHROOM!”

“Oh great…that means it’s in our basement. Did you check the basement?”, he asked.

I ran downstairs to hear water rushing in. I looked to see waterfalls coming out of each of the can lights. The carpet was completely saturated. You could see the water seeping through the sheetrock.

The water restoration crew was immediately called – along with my insurance agent. They came and assessed the damage and began cutting sheet rock, pulling back carpeting, and setting up fans and dehumidifiers.

They had to drill holes into the landing of the staircase in order to control the water that had made it’s way in.

The pillars in our basement had water damage, too.

Water had flooded into our bathroom floor vent…sending a rush of water through our ventilation system.

The current declaration of damages:

• Warped cabinetry in Master Bath – all cabinets must be replaced
• Water in subflooring of Master Bath – tile must be replaced
• Water in master bedroom – New padding and carpet re-stretching
• Water in Kitchen subflooring – Kitchen tile must be replaced – which runs into a hall, half bath, and laundry room. All must be replaced since there is no natural breaking point.
• All baseboards in these areas must be replaced
• Stair landing has to be busted out and be repaired
• Basement ceiling drywall must be replaced
• Basement pillar has to be repaired
• Entire basement to be repainted
• Ventilation system (bid item) may need to be replaced – waiting for A/C man to determine

Current estimation: $13,000

Thank heavens for insurance…but still…the headache that is headed our way!!!!

Apparently Bryce had stuffed the sink drain with toilet paper and left the water on all the way. He said “Sowwy. I won’t do dat again.”

Thanks to Screamfree Parenting…I am pleased to announce that I did not raise my voice at the lad. One small victory.

Later that afternoon, while we were distracted with the state of affairs… he decided he hadn’t destroyed enough.

He dumped out my brand new can of candied pecans…

Dumped out a trail of pretzels and ground them up…

Covered his legs with stickers…

Stole Karah’s hand sanitizer out of her book bag and squeezed the entire bottle into a small puddle on the carpet…

Tom decided we hadn’t had enough water trauma…and decided to teach a Family Home Evening on The Wise Man and the Foolish Man.

The next day Bryce dumped these out on our front walkway.

Later that night…we heard a loud thud in Bradley’s room…and rushed in to find him with vomit EVERYWHERE. I thought it was illegal for stomach bugs to attack on days like this.

Tom said he would “take care of the vomit” if I would take care of bathing Bradley and washing it out of his hair.

“I can handle this”, he said. “I CAN’T handle that”.

I was so proud of him for taking the bull by the horns. I asked him what he did with the linens. I threw the blankets in the washer and just threw the sheet away.

The next morning I discovered “where” he had thrown it away. ON OUR DECK!

Why would he do that? Why? WHY? You’re killin’ me, Tommy T!

And TODAY….the cherry on top of it all….

That’s right….shit.

All over the kitchen floor, living room carpet, office….everywhere. I call it shit because it was not contained. Feces in a diaper = “poopies”. Feces all over my house ---- that I have to clean up while I have a Yankee candle over my face like a gas mask ---taking breaks to dry heave into the kitchen sink??? ----------Well, that’s “shit”. Plain and simple.

Bryce had caught Bradley’s stomach bug…had a diaper wedgie and diarrhea that was leaking in a trail as he walked through the house looking for me after he woke up this morning.

I called Tom. “YOUR SON! THERE IS SHIT EVERYWHERE!!!”, I cried.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”, he asked while chuckling.

Bad timing to be romantic. I was holding paper towels covered in liquid gold, after all.

Flooding, messes, vomit, fecal explosions = My Week

Thanks to my mom who came by and helped me out….saving my sanity by reminding me that I would laugh about this someday…the way she laughs about my brothers painting the driveway yellow. I love you.

Thanks to my sister Jen…who called at the perfect time today…calming me down and drying my tears over the phone. I love you.

Thanks to my friend Courtney…for giving me the idea of the Yankee candle gas mask...and a myriad of other helpful things she did today. I love you.

Thanks to my sister in love Maren…who called and told me how hard she would cry if she were me. It gave me permission to…and I did. I love you.

Thanks to my friend Anne…for dropping in with candied pecans and almonds from the craft fair…because she knew they would help. I love you.

Send prayers our way that the insurance adjuster will agree to all charges tomorrow…and that I can keep this process as tear-free as possible.

I really don’t want to go to that bore hole in Chile…I don’t…but I will if I have to.

You Can Call Me Ho.

I am a Doula. 

I know you want to say it…”MEDULLA OBLONGATA!!!”

Please refrain.

I have some former clients, who are very special to me, that decided they hated the word “Doula”. She and her husband decided they would call me their “Ho”, instead.

It has grown on me. You can call me Ho.

I belong to an incredible organization…called CAPPA. Childbirth and Postpartum Professional Association.

The day I read CAPPA’s vision – I knew I was home.

The CAPPA Vision
Imagine a world where women are encouraged to trust their bodies, and where myths about childbirth and breastfeeding are dispelled. Imagine a world where women are given the tools they need to make informed decisions about their pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, and postpartum experiences. Imagine a world where education does not involve guilt but seeks to empower. Imagine a world where women are surrounded by caring, compassionate support throughout the childbearing year. Imagine a world where new mothers are equipped to embrace pregnancy, birth, and motherhood with confidence. Imagine an organization that volunteers every day to make this a reality. CAPPA - reality begins with imagination.

I have finally found an organization that is a perfect fit for my own personal philosophy towards birth. I love that CAPPA believes in educating women, allowing them to make informed decisions, and supporting those women – regardless of what their personal decision is. I love this!

In July, I flew to Charlotte, NC for my first CAPPA Conference. Courtney is a post-partum doula…so she got to go to the conference, as well. It was great being able to share this with her.

We stayed at the incredibly beautiful Ballantyne Hotel and Spa.

My bed…THE most comfortable bed I have ever slept on – outside of my own :)

On the dresser:

Our view made me miss Tom….terribly.

While at the conference, I was blessed to be able to reunite with some dear friends…

and hang with my local friends :)

I also got to meet some of my “heroes” of the childbirth community…

Barbara Harper, Polly Perez, and Jan Tedder. The speakers were excellent…I learned so much…and got excited to pursue becoming a certified HUG instructor. Click here for more info.

It was not a good trip for the diet. Two Strawberry Daiquiris at dinner? Each? Was that really necessary? Was it, Courtney?

At the time, we thought so. *note* the glass does not appear “virgin” – but the drinks were :)

The room service didn’t help matters, either. We ordered room service for almost every meal. Too rushed in the morning to go out for breakfast…too exhausted at night to go out for dinner. 

It was ridiculously good. We justified the splurge since it was all organic and local.

Even this was…. (seriously!) (cheddar mushroom burger)

On top of all of THIS – and a night of ordering grilled cheese at midnight, (blushing), CAPPA hosted a “Chocolate Party”. It was absolutely nuts.

       

At the chocolate party…I renewed my friendship vows with my long-lost friend, Louise.

We exchanged toe rings…

And fed each other friendship cake…

]

It didn’t take long for her to stray. She was caught trying to “woo” another friend with her dance moves.

A room full of ladies amped up on chocolate = The Pony.

The next morning Courtney had a sugar hangover.

We spent our last day at the spa – napping – a movie – and room service, of course :)

The trip was an amazing experience. So blessed to have been able to attend and meet so many amazing women. I came back rededicated to be the best HO I can be!

I ♥ CAPPA!!!!