Eating shit

As some point, that pit in your stomach where you were storing all of that shit that you didn’t want to deal with starts to overflow.

Then you have two choices, you can store the extra shit in your cheeks or you can start pulling the shit out and figure out what to do with it. I recommend option b because it will make you a more open person and also because shit doesn’t taste very good.

My brother finally started tasting the shit and reached out to try to understand how to clean out his mouth.

I went to talk with him last night (with my sister there as protector). I was kinda worried and not quite sure what to expect. You may remember my brother from such posts as “Leave me alone you shallow stranger who calls himself my brother“. But last night, he came with an open heart and a real hug. And that felt really nice.

I could see that he cared. I could see that he was struggling- that he realized he had been swallowing shit for a long time and it wasn’t helping anyone. He wanted to understand how he could help his sisters, his parents, his wife who is attacked by his mother, give his daughters back their cousins… he was finally able to see that his family was broken and that time wasn’t going to fix it. He was starting to see that it is all connected.

I think that he needed to hear my perspective on things and I shared with him. He listened, asked questions and didn’t judge.

But as I tried to help him figure out how to help repair this mess, how to bring everyone together for things like a family bbq, or a Chanukah party, I realized that I’m not really sure how to fix this. And I’m not really sure that I even want to fix this anymore.

I drove away from my sister’s house, which has always felt like a relatively safe place for me, and I thought about how I used to drive down those streets every day and I realized that I don’t really miss driving down those streets. I have new, nicer streets. And the world is full of streets for me to explore.

I went home and crawled into my bed where my husband and kids were fast asleep and someone put their foot on my cheek and I felt surrounded by love. I felt relief. I felt peace. I felt my babies breathing. This is my home. This is my family. This is my life.

I don’t want to miss another minute with my beautiful family, full of people who love me so much, just because I am trying to win love from people who, though well intentioned, are still struggling to grasp basic concepts of self-reflection and empathy. My heart is open to anyone who wants to walk gently in my life but I have to focus on giving back to my children and the friends and family who were there for me when I needed it the most.

All the things that I spoke about with my siblings were deep issues that I’ve already analyzed and grappled with in ways that they are only beginning to realize. I’ve paid my dues and dealt with my past.

I will hug them at the finish line when they get there but I can’t wait for them to catch-up.

I’m moving on.

Ramblings of a woman on the edge

This is a post that I rambled last November 2011 (shortly before I hit the bottom) but never actually posted because I guess I got distracted with my life. But just in case you’d like a glipse inside my crazy downward spiral, here is some ranting… I’m not editing it because then I will just delete it…

Why are we raising fish in the sea? no. that’s not what I meant. Why are raising birds in the sea? Where is our modern village to raise a child?

People have no respect at all for a mother’s job. for what it means to care completely for another human being. twice this week, i was sitting in my car while my kids were napping because the thought of moving both of them while they were already both sleeping quietly was just too much. for sure one would wake up, or it would just take so long that by the time i moved them, one would be done napping and then, really, why did i waste my few minutes to myself moving them? so, here i am, sitting in my car (not now, last week) and there is no parking on any of the side streets in my neighborhood, and i live in a condo, so i pull over in front of my condo on the street, once right in front of the no parking sign, and once where there is pay parking and both times a friggin police officer comes and raps on my window super loudly and wakes my friggin baby. is it illegal to sit in my car during the day? wtf? it’s so clear that the baby is sleeping…. so insensitive and so clear that they have no awareness or respect for mothers and babies. he doesn’t even acknowledge that he woke the baby (who is screaming crazy) or apologize. i hate them. that is not a public service.

what was the point here? right, this society is no place to raise a baby. but raising a baby is a part of life, so this society is no place to live. the kibbutz is the place to live. i need to find one.

also, we need to incorporate life skills into our education system. not for the pretend life of going to work in an office, but the real life of cleaning poo off the carpet while breastfeeding and pushing poo down the drain in the bathtub and how to keep a kitchen floor clean, and how to cook basic meals and how to organize a home. we need to know these things. everyone, boys and girls. but especially girls. because if i have to hear one more time that i should get a job………. i have a job! i’m on maternity leave from it! maternity leave- to be a mother, not to clean up all day! but clearly, that’s what being a mother means…. someone should have told me. i’d probably still do it, but at least then i’d have known what i was getting into. and maybe i’d have learned before how to do those jobs better. and not be such a disappointment to everybody.

alright, i’ve identified a huge problem in our society. now what to do…

Poop Catchers

When I originally thought about writing a blog, it was to focus on talking about babywearing (I am the expert), natural products, and cloth diapers. All the things that would make Dr. Sears proud of me. (even though I had no idea who he was until my daughter was a year old- I’m that instinctive.) This was when my OCD (actually diagnosed by a real psychiatrist) was in charge and all I could do was over-think my babycare decisions.

Now that I have antidepressants and new topics to over-think, I’ll just write one posting (for now) about cloth diapering.

I never used cloth diapers until my second child was born and I must say, the modern cloth diapers are among the best things ever. For the first few weeks I thought it would be cool to be old-school and I started using prefold diapers with fleece diaper covers. I liked that my baby boy’s precious new package wasn’t squished into a chemical laden sponge all day (read- disposable diapers) but really, these old style cloth diapers made no sense. As soon as he pee’d, he was soaking wet, so I couldn’t let him nap in them and really, what else does a newborn do? They leaked consistently and were just silly. I even tried putting an extra fleece cover on him under the prefold, covered by another fleece cover. And by the time I got all those on, if he hadn’t pee’d on me, I needed a nap!

Then my friend introduced me to FuzziBunz (I wish they would pay me). These AI2 diapers are amazing! They are just as easy to put on as a disposable diaper, they never leak, they are ‘one size fits all’, and they are super cute. I have ten diapers and I wash them every night or two. Because I am still exclusively breastfeeding, there is no rinsing poop or anything, I just dump the dirty diapers into the wash for a cold rinse, hot wash and then into the dryer. They still look new. Really, just as easy (difficult) as taking out the garbage. (I know how this sounds… I hate me too…but it’s true!)

We use one disposable diaper every night so that I can sleep for as long as my kids and not have to get out of bed. But now that I am used to the soft cloth diapers, I am so aware of how scratchy the paper diaper feels on my son’s butt each night.  One day soon I will  ‘double stuff’ the FuzziBunz and try it overnight. I haven’t done this yet because he sleeps right beside me – I will be really annoyed if I wake up in a puddle. Please chime in if you have experience with this. (I guess I’m not the expert of cloth diapering…yet!)

I appreciate that my sweet little boy does not need to spend his first year on this earth creating a mound of garbage that would overflow my home. I also love that my son has never had a diaper rash. I also love that I’m not wrapping  his body in cancerous chemicals and leaching plastic all day. I also love that I’ve spent $250 on diapers and won’t spend much more…ever.

Which leads me to my next bragging point: my daughter has been toilet trained since  about 16 months. Wouldn’t you like to know how…

Ok. This is apparently still a topic close to my heart- it may need to spill into another posting…or two.



Today, I took my daughter to play with a little girl who is 2.5 years old. While we were there, the little girl shat herself and just kept playing as if nothing had happened. Her mom then held her down on the floor and actually wiped all of the poo off her bum and legs with a baby wipe. And the stench… it was so gross. This was definitely not baby poop. Then the mom told the little girl that she gets no m&ms for pooping in her diaper! What is with the completely illogical bribery? And what is with kids who can count m&ms but don’t notice when they poop! stinky poo

My daughter knows when she poops. My daughter is toilet trained. My daughter hasn’t poo’d in a diaper since her first birthday. My daughter wakes up at night and tells me when she has to pee. Here’s the part of the blog where I get all high and mighty- because I can.

But between giving me jealous glares through your computer screen and deciding to stop reading my blog because I am making you feel bad, consider coming to terms with the acceptance that I am sometimes a better mother than you. But remember that, as even superman has his kryptonite, I am dependent on an inordinate amount of chocolate or prescription medication to get through most days and to be honest, (and why not be honest) I need to phone my husband before he leaves work every day to let him know if he should have some scotch expect to find me crying in the closet when he gets home.

Sometimes people would tease me about putting my one year old on the toilet. But now I just feel bad for them as they roll up their sleeves to deal with their 40 pound toddler’s poo- every day! I love that my daughter is aware of her body, respects her body and appreciates her own cleanliness. These are qualities that we should all teach our children so that they are still prominent in our society in 20 years. She is also practicing self-awareness which extends to noticing when her hands are dirty before she sucks her thumb and drying off her thumb on my shirt before she touches something. (So, she sucks her thumb…at least she doesn’t crap her pants!)

This post would not be complete without a shout out to my beloved mother-in-law, the original Potty Whisperer.

Now, to serve me right for bragging, Soni will probably have an accident tonight and I will wake up in the middle of the night in a puddle of asparagus smelling pee…