Boogers

Ronin was sitting on the floor, watching TV and looking at a Dumb Bunnies book. "Look! My booger looks like cereal!" I told him to put it in the trash. He put it back into his nose and proclaimed, "Saving it for later!"

Feminism?

Ive been a human factory for the past 7 and a half years.   This means that every moment since sometime around mid-2005, my body has been used to grow and feed tiny people.  That's kind of awesome in and of itself, right?  Sometimes I feel like a cow, but most of the time I feel like I deserve a cape.
Does this make me the anti-feminist?  Some say it does.  Some say I'm not living up to my potential   Are women like me setting our generation back?  Should I stick a bottle in their mouth, throw them in a daycare, and run wildly back into the workforce?  Or better yet, should I have remained celibate to focus on my career?  I think not.
It's empowering for me to be able to do what I do.  Kind of an ego trip, actually.  I could look at each of my babies up until around 6 months and say, "I made that."  Sure, I had the help of a sperm cell from my husband, but other than that, it's all me.  Every fat roll on them up until then came from my body. 
As I have said before, I work from home and I home school.  I don't depend on daycare or the public school system.  My children are my responsibility.  I didn't have them so that I could throw them at a stranger and run right back to work as if nothing happened.  I'm here to protect them, to teach them, and to comfort them when they need it.  I may have to split my attention between running a business, cooking a meal, nursing an infant, and teaching the older children how to read a clock, but at least it's my attention.
I see nothing wrong with how I'm feeding into gender roles.  Sure, I cook and clean, but then again, so does my husband.  I could leave the kids with him so that he could to the cooking, cleaning, and raising while I have a career, but I don't want to.  First of all, he would suck at that.  Second of all, what would I be doing?  Sure, I'd have the self-fulfillment of my old career that I had before kids. But I wouldn't have that warm fuzzy feeling I get every time I teach one of them something new.  I'd have the guilt that goes along with working outside the home.  I've done it before and I hated every minute of it, so I made some sacrifices.
What are your thoughts?  Is attachment parenting the antithesis of feminism or the embodiment?

kibbles and tits

Yeah, it's been a while since I've posted.  We've started homeschooling (gasp!) and Tanith is now a year old, walking, and being a little hellion.  I never thought twice about her brother and sister putting things in their mouths, but she is a different story.

What makes dog food so appealing?  I've tasted it before and it tasted like dirt.  Dirt and ass.  Dirty ass.  Maybe that's why dogs like it.  So why does the baby want to eat it?  I put her down, no matter what part of the house, and within seconds, her mouth is full of kibble and her foot is in the water bowl.  This has become her favorite thing in the entire world.  Well, second favorite.  Second to only boobs.

Yes, boobs.  I am nursing a one year old.  Surprised?  Neither am I.  For some reason, this is scandalous to many people.  Most of my family has learned to shut up or avoid me completely.  People say dumb things, like "if she can ask for it, she's too old!"

No.  No.  Nooooo!  She could ask for it with a unique cry from birth.  She wasn't too old for it then.  She still isn't.  Most mammals nurse until they get their adult teeth.  Is she a mammal?  I think so.  Shut up about it, put the blanket down, and back away slowly.  Udder covers, hooter hiders, and the like also anger me.  Like any mobile baby will allow you to put a blanket over their face.

"But what about unhealthy attachments?  You can't let your children get too attached to you."  Because why?  One day, I might decide I don't want to be their mother anymore?  I'd rather have my children emotionally attached to me instead of a pacifier, blanket, or stuffed animal.

And now I must go.  Tanith's cry for neee-neeee has rang out and awakened every animal in the house.  Even the ones without ears.

trichotillomania

I think I've found reason number 242 why we should homeschool. Kaiya brought home yet another bad habit to add to the others she's picked up this year. She's pulling out her hair. Another girl in her class told her that she should pull it out while holding her breath. What the crap? First the bossiness, then the lies, hitting, the eye rolling, the table manners, ignoring instructions, language. I agreed to send her to public school for the social skills and it's like they've all disappeared and I'm now raising a monkey. I need to go figure out how to hide the short patches in her beautiful waist length red hair. If I cut it off, it will be reason number 242 why family members hate me.

Why is she so happy?

My youngest child, Tanith, is such a happy baby.  People tell me I don't know how lucky I am.  Believe me, I earned it with two high needs babies.  She sleeps most of the night, usually barely waking once to nurse and then peacefully and immediately drifting back to sleep while snuggled next to me.  Sometimes she even sleeps all night.  She's done this since birth.  The other two never did this.  For the first year, Kaiya and Ronin were waking every two hours.  Kaiya still wakes and wanders into our room a few nights a week and she is five.

And that's not all she can do!  Tanith basically came out of the womb with a huge grin on her face.  When we pulled her out of the water, she was too busy investigating her surroundings to be bothered with crying.  When she wakes, it's always a good morning.  This morning, she woke up during a giggle fit.  My husband says that each child is a reflection of my mood during labor.  I was pressured to have my first child in a hospital (more on that later), and it was a miserable experience.  I was sad and scared, so Kaiya became my sensitive child.  Ronin's birth was very empowering, my first birth center experience, and I was all like, "I am woman, hear me roar".  And he does, several times a day.  I was almost angry during his birth, taking back my birth experience with Kaiya.  Last Halloween when Tanith came into the world, I was giddy with excitement.  I laughed between contractions, sang along with Hank Williams, and hummed peacefully during contractions.

If all babies were like Tanith, I'd be a tattooed Ma Duggar.

No Karate

My oldest daughter, Kaiya, is five years old, in kindergarten, and a very smart and sensitive child.  She’s a little shy and not very assertive around her peers, so we thought it would be a good idea for her to take karate classes.  Any class that teaches a child respect, responsibility, focus, and how to kick ass is good, right?  She was excited about it.  We all were excited about it.
Until the first class.  We got there, paid our fees, and class began.  It took the child five minutes to remove her shoes.  A child who hates shoes wanted to leave hers on in karate class!  She seemed a little nervous for the first few minutes, then got a little shaky toward the middle.  Then when they were practicing their yells and stances, she burst into tears.  She couldn’t handle the yelling.  She understood that no one was yelling at her, but just couldn’t take the noise.  She can yell and scream and jump around at home, but when she’s told it’s okay to yell, she cries instead.
We stayed to watch the rest of the class, and then left.  That was her first, and probably her last, karate class.

Ronin is an expert!

My son, Ronin, cannot keep his hand out of his pants. He turned three a couple of days ago and he is absolutely fascinated by his penis. I’ve even resorted to telling him he was going to pull it off if he kept playing with it. His favorite response? “I’m a peenish exputt.” My guess is that he must be working on his doctorate.

I’ve been trying to encourage potty learning for almost a year. It’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing. My oldest was using the potty all day every day around her second birthday. Ronin just has no interest in it. Please don’t give me potty advice; I’ve probably tried every trick in the book this year. And DON’T tell me to put Cheerios in the toilet. We did that one time and when I turned my head to see what the 5 year old was yelling about, HE ATE THEM!

What really bothers me is when condescending relatives feel the need to tell me that so and so’s kid is using the potty, but it’s okay because not all children are as smart as others. WHAT? Ronin knows more about animals than most adults, but Snotty McSnotHead’s son is smarter than mine because he can poop where he is told?  My dogs can do that, but they can’t name all of the trains from Thomas and Friends.