Maxine Jane Turns Six

Today is Maxine Jane's 6th Birthday. 6 years ago at this time I had already been in labor for 12 hours. 6 years ago at this time I was in a hospital bed and my Doctor was telling me that Max was breech and that I should have a c-section. 6 years ago at this time I was crying and hugging him and begging him to try to turn her. 6 years ago he called his friend, a midwife and together they successfully turned Maxine around. Then more tears when I was in horribly painful labor for another 12 hours.

Below is a repost in honor of my precious angel, the dawn of my day and the demon haunting my very existence's birthday.

I’m sitting in our game room, Elijah in bed, Jeremiah sprawled on the couch next to me, yawning and comfy. The rain outside is pouring down over our street, over our small town, washing away the grimy trash, making the ugly cars gleam under the sheets of effortless water.

I am longing for Maxine, missing her spindly legs lying over my own much less spindly ones, her tiny hands looking endlessly for crevices of flesh to dig in to. The thunder and lightning are beyond my windows, filling the night with a drama much adverse to the calm of our quiet house.

Maxine hated the rain as an infant. She would cry in terror if it would hit her baby head and she would shake and cringe at the cold wet when it would touch her body.

Thinking of her great dislike of the rain makes me keenly remember her first thunderstorm. On a night much like tonight I laid a tiny uncomfortable Maxine, finally sleeping, next to me on my bed where Maxine, Rose and I would sleep every night. I dare not leave the bed, for if I moved my body from the space next to her she would wake and begin crying, the jagged spine chilling cry that haunted my days with infant Her. The lightning began to brighten our room and Rose and I counted the time between the lightning and thunder in hushed tones. Max woke to a considerably loud thunder clap and I immediately started to pick her up before she could wail. Instead of crying she looked curiously around the room, listening to the pitter patter of the rain.

I turned off the t.v. and sat with her and Rose in the dark room, lit by a small nightlight, listening with Maxine to the storm outside. When it thundered again I watched in amazement as a smile began to erase the usual scowl that painted Maxine’s face. The storm outside gathered more fury and soon the gentle rain sounds were replaced by furious winds. Max was still enthralled.

I laid her down between Rose and myself, pulled the blankets around us and soon fell asleep. It was a wonderful experience, Maxine at peace, not strangely tense, or stressed. There was nothing other than a sweet embrace and a gentle slumber, accompanied by a musical storm raging outside.

Birthday Girl Blues

I am now 30 years old. I though I would feel different or I would sense some sort of change come over me, like mystical bits of sparkly age dusting down upon me from a sailing chariot in the skies above.

The only difference I've noticed now, on this 10th day after my Birthday is that the malaise I was suffering from has finally lifted it's gloomy veil. I feel semi-normal now, although stressed and under pressure, normal as someone as strange and ridiculous as me can be.

Because I was under this veil, I think I ruined my Birthday party, which was so nicely planned by my Momma and although on the weekend, attended by all of my children. I just sat there and forced smiles onto my face like trying to force a baby's fat feet into it's first pair of shoes. Delicately, yet forcefully and with a sense of remorse and regret, I made my way through the happy people, the pats on the back and my many children clamoring for my attention without feeling much of anything at all.

I didn't take much notice of this delightful cake, made special for me because of my love of bows and polka dots:



The usual onslaught of tears did not come when my Momma gave me the bunnies I had been coveting most of my life. She received the Momma Bunny and the first pink baby when I was born, made for her by her Grandmother and then one for each child after that except for Hannah. But we all know that nobody likes Hannah, so that makes perfect sense...



I didn't delight when Olivia gave me a handmade ninja fan with a built-in self destruct button or get mad when Maxine threw a horrible fit and launched herself into a basement bookshelf.

And now I'm feeling regretful and apologetic, with no real reason to apologize. I will move on though, this weekend Jeremiah and are will be away from Elijah for two whole nights, the longest we have ever left him. We'll be attending a wedding, I have dresses to wear thanks to Becky and newly purchased accessories, so there is a little bit of fun on the horizon (I hope!).

Although looking forward to being out of this house and away from my work and motherly duties, I can't help but feel a sense of dread, thick and oozy, sitting on my shoulders, drizzling it's muck into my head. When with this malaise come again? Why is this happening to me?

Fashion Show Debacle, by Me

If you are a friend of mine in the real world or on the interwebs, you have probably heard me complain, whine, fret and or/any combination of the above about what I am going to wear to a wedding that Jeremiah and I will be attending at the end of the month.

Jeremiah is in the wedding and I know a total of 3 people attending. Should be interesting.

Further cementing her place as possibly the Best Internet Best Friend EVER...Becky (otherwise known as Steam me Up Kid, The Great), my B.I.F. sent me some of her dresses to try on.

Sent me in the mail. From L.A. Yes.

I told her I would take video of this 'trying on of the dresses' and the post them. I hate these videos, hate my face and my fat arms. How come I could gain ten pounds back from losing 60 and it goes directly into my ARMS? Weird and unfair!

Here are four short videos of me and the dresses Becky sent me.

Part One:


Part Two:


Part Three:


Part Four:


Try not to make fun of me TOO much after and/or during these videos. And tell me which dress, if any, that you liked!

Siblings

Based on this week's writing prompt from Studio Thirty Plus, 'Risk':



A tall man who was once a very small boy
and a small me, who was never very much more so
hunched over a table in our parents game room
shoulder punches
jabbing fingers in ribs
hair pulling
swearing
frenetic waves of giggles
strangely phrased words bounce off the paneled walls

"What the hell? Knock it off!'
Yells our tired Mom from the kitchen
we tire her still

You put your oh so large hands on my small round shoulders
to shake me not so gently

I fall into the table
knock our carefully laid game pieces to the ground
with a ferocious crash
and an even more ferocious yell from our mother in the kitchen,
"I told you to knock it off!"

We've never finished a game of Risk
Not once in all these years.

For all The Milky Ladies...

Yesterday I posted an article about breastfeeding in public and ended up getting some really great responses at Sprocket Ink and on my facebook page. A small debate took place on facebook...but I'm still very much interested in everyone's opinion on the matter, so if you end up clicking on a Sprocket Ink link and reading the article Breast is Best: Just not in Public? please leave a comment and give me your opinion!

Also, I received a few emails from breastfeeding mothers, mothers to be and breastfeeding 'fans' or 'advocates' that wanted to hear what else I have to say about breastfeeding and also my experiences. As I mentioned in the post before this one, my time is limited by a new day job, which brings my telecommuting jobs number to three. Instead of writing a whole new piece about my experiences and opinions on breast feeding, I'll be linking them below in a little list.

I am open to any questions or comments you might have and would be more than glad to answer your questions privately via email oliverosetree@yahoo.com if you're not comfortable sharing them here or at Sprocket Ink.

OK, I'm a Breastfeeding Nazi

Being A Woman


What am I? A Cow? Here for your Nutrition?


Who's Weaning Who Here?


Breastfeeding Power

LoL Cat Sammiches for My Blog Readers

You may or may not know that I work at home and have recently went back to pretty much a full time working schedule. This has obviously left me unavailable for much creative writing and my friend Adam was concerned for my poor neglected blog.

I weeped tears of pitiful frustration and he patted me on the back and said, 'Erin dear, do not worry. I will assemble a team of awesomeness and write a blog post for you that will update your blog and make it a renewed place of enchantment and wonder.'

That's exactly what he said.

His assembled team of awesomeness included himself and Jen from My Tornado Alley. This is what they wrote for us to enjoy, thanks guys!

Adam: Well, Jen, welcome. We agreed to write a blogpost for
Erin's blog and so here we are. Writing a post. We're writing a post,
la de da, whoop de doo. Not that you seem too into it. And what's up
with that? We're supposed to be writing here and yet are you working?
No. Do you seem interested? No. What's with that?

Jen: I'm writing this blog post just as much as you're writing
this blog post, ADAM, I'm just taking my time and really mulling over
what this blog post should be ABOUT. You know? Like, we can't just
write it about nothing. That would be stupid. I'm TOTALLY interested
in writing it, I'm EXTRA interested, actually, as a matter of fact.
MORE than you, I think. MORE. THAN. YOU.

Adam: You're so interested in writing it you're just using
random capital letters to make yourself sound important. Which is
totally sad, Jen. You need to step up your game. We're writing a blog
post here, this isn't trivial. We have to give it our best and our
most and our everything. We have to capture the Eye of the Tiger, Jen.

Jen: Tough words, big man. So, what are we going to do then?
We're obviously going to include an adorable LOLcat, right? I mean,
obviously. Who doesn't love an LOLcat, amirite? And then what? We
could maybe do one of those memes where we list one million things
that no one cares about? And then stick the LOLcat right in the
middle. It'll be like an LOLcat sandwich!

Adam: A meme LOLcat sammich? Is that all you have? You're
better than that. Paint a picture for the epople, Jen. Paint them a
word picture. Here, I'll show you how! We open the blog post on a
sunny day, the leaves are falling and the drug addicts are slinking
away to hiude behind bushes, only noticable by their sounds and
snorfling. Snorfling is a good word. Why don't we use snorfle more
often, Jen? What's that about? I say we bring back the word snorfle.
Snorfle!

Jen: I like where you're going with this. A blog post about
drug addicts and snorfling. It's good, but it could be BETTER. What
with all the stray LOLcats we're going to bring into this. STRAY
LOLCATS, ADAM. Have you seen Cats? Of course you have. It'll be
like that, only LOLier. So, the drug addicts are hiding behind the
bushes, snorfling (naturally), and the homeless LOLcats stroll up to
the drug addicts, non-challantly. So as to not draw attention to
their switchblades. Because...right?

Adam: And then they can dance fight. This will be epic! DANCE
FIGHTING LOLCATS! It'll be called... Meowside Story. No, it won't that
name is a buncha rubbish. What should we call it, besides "Beautiful"?

Jen: GANGS OF MEW YORK! I win!

Adam: You do win. That's it, I'm out.