It is finally here, the time for weaning. This is something that really scares me. For my child's entire existence we have had a relationship where he depends upon me physically. At first it was in utero and then he came out and it became breastfeeding. However, now will be the first time in our lives together where he will not need anything physical from me. I can't give him anything he can't get from anyone else.

It's so weird that our relationship is leaving the current phase. It is all I have ever known and I love it and have become comfortable with it. We will never have this again. I am worried about how he will respond to me now that this is changing. I worry that he will become distant from me or less respondent because we will no longer have our intimate snuggle sessions.

It is also distressing to me that I am about to leave the country for a month. Not only are we about to severe this physical bond between us, but I am about to severe all physical bonds between us for 31 days.

I do not want to be a stranger to my child. I am eager to have my independence back, to have my entire body be my own again. I can't wait to eat peanut products and drink when I please and have my whole body feel sexy in underwire bras. But I also feel like I am giving up a lot. Having the final nursing session right when he wakes up in the morning or right before he goes to bed will be heartbreaking. I can't imagine how I will deal with it, but I will because that seems to be what mothers do, until we die.

Literary coolness

This is one of the coolest things I have read in awhile. A kid did a survey to 150 authors about symbolism after learning about it in high school in 1963. About half the authors wrote back to him and they have Ray Bradbury's available to read. I think he is publishing them or something. I bet his 70-something self is thanking is 16 year-old self profusely.


Is it weird that I mostly like taking yoga for the Corpse Pose at the end of class? It just never feels as good without all the class crap beforehand.

Husbands and fathers

I have been noticing a trend on the inter-webs lately where women will post pictures of there husbands doing something nice for their children. On the surface this seems nice and sweet, but below that it screams of a joy at the man finally doing "something" for their child. I can't help my first impression to these photos and anecdotes being confusion.

I know I am in an unusual situation with my husband being a stay-at-home father, but still. Nothing he does for our child is a surprise or something that should be praised because he is just being a father. I don't expect high praise for changing Little Man's diaper or giving him a bath. And the best part is that Mr. Neruda doesn't either. We just trade off on jobs with little to no discussion because we both fully assume that we will be pulling our weight.

The cool part about Mr. Neruda is that he takes care of Little Man by day and by night he becomes either a TA, philosophical doctorate student, or security guard. Those are the things that he should be applauded for.

Here's some logic* for you. For all things x, if x is a father then there exists a y such that y is care of a child and y is equal to x.

* The real reason to praise my darling husband is because I decided to better myself by learning something that doesn't come easily to me, logic, and his response was to get excited about the opportunity to teach me instead of saying he doesn't want to because he does it all day as work. He's cute.

Breastmilk Rules!!!!!!!!!!!

This article is very interesting. It says that there are stem cells in breast milk and that scientists are hoping to start using those cells in their stem cell research and get the embryo nay-sayers off their backs. But what struck me the most from the article is that, sheesh, breast milk is awesome! I know there are some women who just really can't breastfeed and that is sad and fine. But if you can, it really does seem best on SO many levels.

It seems like most working moms are formula feeders and in some sense that makes sense. Pumping in my work place's bathroom 2-3 times a day really does suck. However, I really don't understand how these women are able to give up the bonding that happens when you breastfeed. That is what makes me able to stand going to work, that I get this beautiful bonding time with my child that non of his other care-givers get. That he is my boy and that we snuggle up and just be with one another for a few minutes each day. It makes my heart feel better. And gives him some great nutrition!

That's what she said

I really want Little Man to learn to say That's what she said. I am constantly staggered by the things that come out of my mouth when I am with him and I feel like he is really letting a lot of great wording go to waste.

For example, a couple days ago he was playing with the door jam and I told him, "Huxley, not in your mouth, but you can flick it if you want." Seriously?!?!?! He is letting a lot of gems go. Sad really.

Breaking news

This just in, I will be spending the entire month of March in Australia . . . FOR FREE!!!!!! That's right, I applied with the Rotary club for their annual cross-cultural business trip where they have an employee exchange program of sorts. Every year a country is chosen like Denmark, France, Australia, etc and a group comes from their country to ours and gives presentations and learns about us and then we send a group over to do the same. Well friends, I am in that group, along with one of my best friends, and we are going to rock Australia.

We will be based in Sydney and will get to go around all over the SE quadrant of the country. The only problem is that the Great Barrier Reef is in the NE quadrant. Our mission is to find time to sneak away and high-tail it up the coast, dive the reef and race back for our duties. I feel good about accomplishing this.

Also, we are getting matching Australian tattoos.


Dashed dreams

My longtime dream of shaving my head will not come to fruition because I fear my head will be covered in itchy, red ingrown hairs.


I have found that when life gives you breastmilk, you should make lemonade.

Case in point, I have to take my stupid pumping crap everywhere I go so I can pump the milk rather than explode. This always makes me feel like a bag-lady. It is hard to get dressy and feel sexy when you are hauling around three bags. However, I recently learned at the movies that there is a benefit to all that.

I am sticking to caffine free soda until I am done breastfeeding and movie theaters have a crap selection of drinks for my delicate palate. I have taken to sneaking my own can of caffine free diet coke in whenever I go. However, on these hot, hot days my cans either sweat all over my purse or are hot when the movie starts and there is a loud enough scene for me to open it.

Solution: I simply take out one of my bottles from the little ice chest bag I carry around to keep my milk cold and replace it with my can. If asked what is in the bag (which I am dying for some poor 17 year-old to do) I will simply whip out my breast milk and explain exactly why I have the bag and what it's contents are. Then saunter down the theater aisle to my seat where I then drink my illegal bounty.



I am sad to admit that I don't know much about the Suffragettes. I know they got women the vote and were pretty cool ladies, but that is about all.

I watched the documentary Gloria last night which is about Gloria Steinem. It was a very good flick, but it shamed me with all the knowledge I don't have about those times. I know there is a quote by Susan B Anthony, "our job is not to make women grateful but to make them ungrateful." So go me there, I am apparently quite ungrateful about the whole thing since I completely take it for granted.

However, the doc gave me chills and brought tears to my eyes when it went through all the things women did to gain equality. All the words, images, and ridicule that were thrown in their faces and how they continued to power through it all. Amazing. I almost weep for being born after that maelstrom since I will never get to be a part of such an amazing, empowering, and painful movement.

I have vowed to educate myself on both movements so that I may honor their hard work and hopefully better appreciate the freedom I have and see the flaws that still exist. I want to make those ladies proud.

America loves women

Disturbing fact: Corporations are people, or at least have the same legal rights as people. This is nothing new. This has been discussed exhaustively.

What hasn’t been discussed is disturbing fact number two: Corporations gained personhood about a year before women could vote.

What the fuck? I officially feel more demeaned than I have in a long time.

Fear a day

I just started a book, My Year with Eleanor, a memoir about a woman who loses her job and decides to follow Eleanor Roosevelt's advice about doing one thing you fear a day. The book follows her trying to live that for a whole year. This is right up my alley. I love beating my own fears and pushing myself as far as I can go.

As I began reading something odd occurred to me. I will never be able to not live that way again. Parenthood has changed everything. When I discovered my pregnancy I decided to view the whole process that way. The labor and birth will of course be scary, as will my reaction to my child, but then I will be a parent and that is done.

Not so. Parenthood is one steady stream of fear. Obviously his first few weeks into the world were scary, that is to be expected. But the fear never abates. Every time I leave him with someone else it is a little scary. Potty training scares me. The entire age range of 2-4 really does scare me. His school years scare me with all the possible bullying, pain that can be caused by other children, his own personal failures and school shootings. Him traveling anywhere without me. Sleepovers. Snow skiing, river rafting, doing anything physical where he could possibly die. When he begins riding his bike away from me by himself. Driving. College. Getting to the point when I can't reasonably expect to have him check in once a day so I know he is alive, like around 30 or so.

The fact that he exists fills my life with fear. Therefore doing something each day that scares me is really not too tall of an order. In the book the woman resorts to swimming with sharks and skydiving. I simply need to put my child in his crib at night and then leave him for eight hours straight with SIDS creepy over his shoulder.

Thank you Eleanor for making this process seem healthy and fulfilling. At least I am going to start thinking of it that way instead of the highly neurotic way I currently have.

My best friend

I have decided to make Emma Stone my new best friend. The details on how to do that are a little sketchy at the moment, I only know I must.

She is quoted in Entertainment Weekly as saying about a stunt gone wrong on set:

I spider-monkeyed onto Ryan's head and wrapped my body around him and kicked him in the throat and started to cry.

Anyone who not only freaks out like that, but then describes it like should be my friend. Also, anyone who is like Olive in Easy A or who acts like Olive should be my friend.

Now on to the how question!


I am having my own personal Renaissance and it feels wonderful.

I think it stems from a new found freedom from constant mommy duties or it could be something completely different but whatever it is I am loving it.

I have started painting again, three completed pictures and one more in mind for sure. I have started reading actual books again. I have also started writing and thinking and dreaming up new projects again. I find I have a new energy about things. I am constantly humming with new ideas for creation. I think I am driving Mr. Neruda a little crazy actually. He is happy about my personal projects but my inspiration does not stop there, it extends to joint projects and he isn’t exactly in the same place as me at the same time as me so . . .

Anyhoo, I am feeling more fulfilled with my time and self value. Gone are the days of working all day, caring for the baby and then vegging in-front of the TV until I exhaustedly fall into bed. Even if my time is spent in a hot bath it is not wasted time. I read a real book in there. I plan my new projects. I listen to new music that I missed .

My emaciated soul is soaking in this Renaissance with glee. Too long have I let myself go without everything that is interesting about life. I haven’t challenged myself in months. However, now I am challenging myself physically, intellectually and emotionally and I feel whole again.

My future library