"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn

"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn
it's a jungle out there

Saturday, August 28, 2010

200 Posts!


OK. Does it count if like 27 of them are drafts?

I was thinking of a Bon Voyage Post. We're leaving tomorrow for MEXICO!


Or maybe I'd write a Ganesh Tattoo Post

Or a Kim Update


While lying in bed, looking at the beautiful clear blue sky, thinking about packing...

Yeah. Packing. Haven't done that yet. We leave tomorrow morning at 4am

That's OK. It'll take like 5 minutes.
All we need are swimsuits, goggles, a tee shirt or 2, and passports.

That's what I told Andrew's father.
Andrew is Jack's best bud, and he's coming with us to MEXICO!

They're so excited. We all are.

Anyhoo. Yup.
When Andrew's father asked what he needed to bring, I said
a bathing suit, water shoes, and his passport.

Is that it?

ummm... that's the most important stuff... chuckle

Are you sure?

I wasn't sure what he was getting at. I'm still not sure he was getting at anything.

Well, at 6:30 this morning, looking out the window at the clear blue sky, it occurred to me

can we cross the Mexican border with SOMEONE ELSE'S KID???


so... google to the rescue

and the answer is apparently not


google said we could try, but they might not let us through without a notarized letter.
Signed by both parents.
And his birth certificate

fuck me

OK. My bank has a notary
Hopefully, Andrew's parents have a copy of his birth certificate relatively handy.
I have no idea where my kids' are...their birth certificates...not my kids...my kids are still asleep...i think
Hopefully, both his parents are available to sign a letter in front of a notary on a Saturday
Thank Ganesh I don't need our kids' birth certificates. I hope.

I found a handy dandy online site called LawDepot.com.
With a handy dandy printable form to be used if you're taking someone else's kid across international borders.

It's too early to call Andrew's parents.
And I'm loathe to let them know they're entrusting their only child to such a dumbass.

It will work out. It always does. I am indelibly marked by the Remover of Obstacles.

I'll keep you posted.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Birth Day

Warning: disturbing photo...

this was me exactly 10 years ago
looks like a damn torpedo
40 weeks and 2 days pregnant with Ty
feeling great

I did. I felt wonderful. I felt beautiful and feminine.
I had no idea I was grotesquely enormous.
People used to stop and stare. Even when I had my clothes on.
I'd get all in a snit and say to Bruce what the fuck?... hasn't anyone ever seen a pregnant lady before?

I should have had a clue when the clothes I wore at 42 weeks with Jack were ummm... snug.... at 20 weeks with Ty.
I knew I was big, but I hadn't gained much weight and, like I said, I just felt so damn good.

See that kind of crazy hysterical look on my face?
I was about to walk down the hall for my second c-section.
I put a hospital gown on first.


Bruce and I had gone in for a biophysical profile.
Ultrasound, fetal monitoring, and some other test I can't recall.
When I hoisted myself up on the table, the sonographer looked at me and said is this a multiple birth?

ummm... no...

really? raised eyebrows


quickie ultrasound and she says stay right there, I'm going to get Georgia on the phone.

Georgia Rose. My batshit crazy awesome midwife.

According to the ultrasound, I had twice the normal amount of amniotic fluid.
And Ty's weight was estimated to be 9.5 lbs.

No wonder I had a torpedo belly

I'm admitting you.

Georgia knew I wanted a VBAC. She agreed to let me try if the attending signed off on it.
All my professional knowledge went right out the window and I just kept thinking I don't want another c-section.
My recovery after Jack had been so hard.
I don't know if it was the pitocin or the IV fluids or the 24 hours of labor prior to being sectioned
but I was physically fucked up afterwards.
For weeks.
I couldn't imagine being in that condition and having to take care of a 3 yr old and a newborn.

The attending was even and patient. I remembered him from Jack's delivery.
He reluctantly agreed to induction but wanted to be clear we were aware of potential complications.

cord prolapse
shoulder dystocia
fetal distress
emergency c-section

Oh. Right. All those risks of which the professional-me was fully aware, but the mommy-me didn't want to think about.
Bruce didn't know what any of it meant. I explained it all to him so the ob would know that I fully understood.

Bruce looked scared.
He turned to Baby Doc and said if she were your wife, what would you do?

I would go for the section

nuf said

I remember calling my mom from the bank of pay phones at the hospital.
There were still pay phones then.
I remember feeling awkward displaying my fear and vulnerability to her.
I didn't know who else to call.
I guess I knew she would understand.

I was sobbing.
Mommy... I don't want another c-section.
I don't remember what she said, but I do remember feel reassured and better after talking to her.
As it should be.

Will wonders never cease.


I remember walking down the hall to the OR.
The clock on the wall said 5:25.
I remember thinking this is so weird. by 6 oclock I'll have a baby

And I did

Ty Nichols Beaty
a few minutes old
8lbs 11oz
sometime before 6pm
August 25, 2000

almost 3

probably 5

last year


My recovery wasn't bad at all. The Universe is Abundant.

I remember when Ty was a few days old, Sister Adrienne came to visit.
She called first and asked if I needed anything.
I'm sure she was thinking something along the lines of food, or maybe a big bottle of wine.
Suppositories. I'm totally constipated.
Ummm... OK.... but what exactly do I look for? I've never bought anything like that before.
Neither had I. Damn c-section. Damn codeine.

It all came out ok though.
I recovered just fine.


Ty has a bunch of friends here for a sleepover.
Pizza, ice cream sundaes, video games.


You know what I've learned?
10 old boys smell way worse than 13 year old boys.

Friday, August 20, 2010

What a difference a year makes

Yesterday I woke up smiling. My heart was light. My breath was easy.

The plumber was coming at 9
cha-ching yay new sewer pipes

The cleaning ladies at 1
cha-ching cleaning ladies ooooh poor me

Then a bunch of 13 year olds at 3

And we didn't have a cake yet.

Still, I felt just fine.

Not at all like August 19, 2009.

Last year, at exactly the same time, in exactly the same supermarket, buying exactly the same birthday party stuff, I felt like I was at the bottom of a dark well with no way out.

It was then and there, in the Price Chopper aisle, that I decided it's time for a pill.

The thought that catapulted me over the line was
it's my oldest son's birthday. i should be able to enjoy it.

That was it.
One of the perks of my profession is my prescription pad.
I came home, went online, and decided on good old Prozac.

There you go

What a difference a little blue pill makes

Happy reBirth Day

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Wednesday Rants

Its really hard to close credit card accounts.

It's not hard as in ohmygod I can't do this I need more credit cards way.

It's hard because the goddam fucking automated phone voice gives "close my account" as the very. last. option.

After 7 minutes of please enter this and please enter that
I am forced to suffer a gazillion questions from a real live person about why I want to close my account.
Are you aware of all the benefits this account has to offer?
Do you realize that once the account is closed, it cannot be reopened?

Why would I sit on the phone for 12 minutes to close an account and then want to reopen it?
I'd just like to close the account, please.

just a buzz in my ear as I repeatedly repeat
I'd just like to close my account please.

7 times

7 cards

This is my own damn fault. I open accounts usually around christmas time to get 15% off or interest free financing or some such nonsense.
I pay off the balance right away and forget the card exists.

I decided today it was time to loose the cards. They're just taking up space in my wallet.
It took me 45 minutes, 3 continents and 4 time zones to cancel everything. Sheesh


I'm on my eighth load of laundry.
Cause the damn dog has fleas.

I thought they were just mosquito bites.
The kids said Dusty has fleas
I said He does not
The kids said Amy the most awesome babysitter said she saw one
Though I trust Amy completely, I still said Dusty does not have fleas.
I checked him over the weekend. Twice. No fleas.
Eventhough I have a Don't Call Me At Work Unless There's Blood Or Fire Rule, Monday evening my phone rings.
The same rule stands when I'm blogging or on the phone.
This rule is frequently broken.
Ty says ummm... mom.... Dusty has fleas
Ty? Ty? Seriously, Ty? What am I supposed to do about that right this very minute?
Ummm... we just wanted to tell you.
Ty! I'm seeing patients. Dusty does not have fleas. And even if he did, there's nothing I can do about it right now. Is there?
Ummm... no mom.

So I get home at 10 Monday night, totally cross eyed. The kids are still up.
Jack walks by and says Dusty has fleas.
Goddammit you guys! Dusty does not have fleas.
I flop down and huff and get all dramatic and start examining the damn dog, who rolls over and wags his tail.
Dumbass dog.
Look you guys... no fle...
I see one lone black bugger crawling through the damn dog's fur
I start to itch
dammit dammit dammit
off to Google
...for every adult flea there are at least 10 eggs and 2 larvae...
Dusty had a date with the groomer today.
And I stripped all the beds all the slipcovers all the blankets and all the sleeping bags
and started washing.
The groomer did a great job.
She said yup I saw fleas. He's not infested, but he definitely has them.
Infested. eeew
Ty has fleas, too. Poor thing.


Do you know what happens when 112 year old pipes get overburdened with 8 loads of washer drainage and dog hair?
Another call to Mr. LongSnakeMan.
At this point, we agree. Snaking is for pussies.
He will return tomorrow and replace a good part of our old cast iron sewage pipes with PVC.
During Jack's birthday party.



Jack said look at it this way, mom. you got a lot accomplished today.
He said this before I got the car cleaned like, really cleaned and my tattoo finished.
And he didn't even know about this morning's quickie vag post.

He's so the glass is almost full kinda kid.
Tomorrow is his 13th birthday

Vagina Dialogues

There's some very funny vaginal talk in blogland.

Nancy posted about a snatch off.

Unknown Mami joined in.

And Laura is always good for seeing the vagina in things.
In a post about BlogHer, she wrote
...but how much of a difference can one make with a cake and her vagina?
Sister Adrienne commented
Marie Antoinette made a helluva difference with cake and her vagina.

Vaginas make great blog fodder.

Me? There's nothing extraordinary or even special about my vagina.

Others may disagree.

But as far as I'm concerned... meh.

Having had c-sections, I've never experienced the POWER of my vagina.

She sure is powerful when it comes to boys, though.
I guess every girl's is...

But I must say, my vag is very reliable.

She never surprises me, never catches me off guard.
I know when she's going to cooperate, and I know when she will rebel.

We're tight like that

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Sunday Vespers from the Beacon Satellite Chapel of the Church of the Batshit Crazy

I was gonna post a Sundays In My City about something I witnessed yesterday at an Apple Store.

Yes. Apple. As in iPhone iPad iMac

Can I hear an AMEN.

But I'm gonna AMENd the long version and just say this...
There were a mob of people with wads of cash wanting to purchase iPhones.
Just iPhones. But no service plans.
Why would someone want an iPhone without service, you ask?
To sell for three times the purchase price on the Asian black market, I answer.
That's what the nice Apple Geek told me.

I counted 25 people on line. The first lady said 16.
Sixteen. SIXTEEN. iPhones.
She pulled a wad of bills out of her bag and started counting off hundreds.
By the third person on line, there were no iPhones left in the store.
I thought the very patient and very professional Apple Geeks were gonna have to call security.
Eventually, the empty handed phone vultures left the store.
But only after yelling and demanding and being aggravated that there weren't

Ty was like wow mom. that was weird. it felt kind of scary. why were those people so mad?
Total. Bad. Vibe.

Humans suck


This morning on the porch, I mentioned to Bruce that the weather for the week looked like he might get a break at work.
Cloudy, rainy, 70's.
No hot kitchen.
No hundreds of people wanting an outside table at the Hottest Spot around.
Maybe all the high maintenance demanding ladies who lunch will stay away.

well he said that just means all the people who don't want to sit in the sun and would rather be cool will come instead.
it will be just as bad.

ummm.... OK Eeyore

I told him he was a glass half empty kind of person.

Do you think I'm a pessimist, Chica?

I laughed. You are totally a pessimist. And you put your faith in the wrong place, and then get bent and disappointed.
You put your faith in humanity. In people. That's fucked up. People will disappoint you every time. People are fucked up.

Me, on the other hand? I'm a total optimist. Glass half full. Everything will be fine.
Not in a rose colored glasses every thing's peachy kind of way.
In an it's gonna be OK kind of way.

And I only expect the worst from people.
I'm rarely disappointed.

I do, however, believe there is something that allows humans to rise above our suckiness.
There is something out there in here that can move us toward divinity.
It infuses us with power and allows us to be
Miracle Makers.

We humans can be conduits of the divine.

Those folks buying up the iPhones weren't channelling much divinity yesterday.

But when I look with my good eye, I see Miracle Makers every where.

Can I get an Amen?

For a full dose of Sunday Sermon go visit Ms. Moon.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Saturday Sighs: I miss blogland


I miss everyone. Which is pretty funny cause I NEVER miss ANYONE in fleshandblood land.

That's because I'm almost pathologically antisocial.

Blogland is the closest this chica will ever get to dropping by or sitting for a spell on a neighbor's porch.
And forget about come on over for coffee and crumbcake.

A margarita? Maybe. But even that's a long shot.


My summer fling with darkness came to a blessed end with a return to yoga and a moment of inspiration which gave birth to a project.
And no Mrs. 4444 it's not another baby. shoot me.
Who knows if this project will actually come to pass, or in what form.
Right now it's something to be excited about, to work on and look forward to, and it's helping me to
keep on keeping on.

And that's all that matters. Right?


I still hate mosquitos. When I squash one or 27 I typically say die suckah.
The other day, Mia was on suckah patrol and I was smacking the shit outta the damn things.
Through it all, she was absentmindedly chanting
om lokah samastah sukhino bhavantu
may all beings everywhere be happy and free from suffering.


see you tomorrow

Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.