OklahoMama

The plague paid our home a visit a couple of weeks ago. The tiny human caught it, wrestled with it for 4 days, and just as she was slowly getting better, I took a turn. Pretty sure she handled it better than I did. We have been in survival mode for weeks now. Only in the last couple of days have things felt manageable, never mind normal. I had forgotten what it felt like to just be. To just be still, just be quiet, just be happy. To just play, without hunting for the thermometer, or sit instead of searching for what sort of medicine you can take while breastfeeding. Today we have just been. We have played all day, rolling on the floor, sitting on the porch, snuggling on the couch. It feels like walking out of a room that was much too loud, only you didn't realize it. You step outside into the quiet, and suddenly you feel a peace you didn't know you were missing. The absence of the static makes the stillness so much sweeter. Don't get me wrong, I would really prefer ...

I always think that I'm not going to cut my hair. Post-wedding hair chop? Definitely not for me. I love my long hair. Its so pretty and great. I'm never going to cut it short again, because I always hate it, and why would I do that to myself? -- 3 days after honeymoon-- Yeah... it gotsta go. Chop. You'd think I would have learned by now... but then we wouldn't have the fun of discussing my idiocy on the blog, now would we. I had no intentions of cutting my hair post-baby. I was petrified of getting 'mom hair', and thus decided to keep my lengthy locks firmly attached to my head. I had nightmares about the SNL skit about the 'mom cut' (if you haven't seen it- look it up). I was 100% positive and sure that I was going to keep my hair long. (Photo credit to the incomparable Haley Rowell)  You see where this is going, don't you? It was one of those things that I knew was a mistake before I even did it. I read other people's accoun...

** The following is not for the faint of heart. Or, you know, men who will be scarred by me discussing feminine type things** For some reason, the title of this post sounds like a Hallmark movie. "When my water broke, the tale of a young man who falls in love with a girl up the river, only to have his heart broken." Spoiler alert: water breakage isn't a Hallmark movie. Second spoiler alert: This story is kind of gross, so maybe don't read it if you aren't ready for that. When I was in birthing class, our instructor suggested we carry puppy pee pads (the kind you use to train sweet little dogs who can't quite get the 'go outside' concept') everywhere with us when we hit 34 weeks. 34 weeks. Seems early, doesn't it? I sort of wrote off this advice for the most part, after all, didn't people keep telling me that only a small percentage of women's water actually breaks before labor? Like a weirdly small percentage in comparison to t...