I'm not the greatest writer of all time. But its the attempt that counts, right?

Reading others' blogs, and rereading my own personal journal I'm reminded of two things that affect both what I write, and how it's written.

1. I am not by my own natural abilities, a good grammar person. Less so now that I've given up time, energy, and brain cells to constant pregnancy and children. Don't get me wrong, these little people are very much worth it, and I have a feeling they're going reteach it to me the farther we get into our home school curriculum. But before this blog, I had little actual writing to do each day that doesn't involve text messages, lists, or bills going back to the college classes from when N. was tiny. It's been awhile.

2. I write how I speak unless forced to do otherwise, and frankly it's going to take a lot of time and patience to get back to a more formal style where my points are actually properly wrapped up in a nice, conventional structure.

Baby Wearing.

image reuploaded from the doula shop, copyright and credit belongs to them.


The sling pictured above may or may not have saved my sanity. I can't be certain either way because honestly my memories of the time of initial usage? Bit of a blur. I had a preschooler, toddler, newborn, and an awesome cause of sleep deprivation not at all helped by the fact that A. was early, and even tinier than my existing Lilliputian children.

What I remember most about first wearing her was the comfort I felt. I'd been gifted with, and lightly used a few kinds of baby wearing devices with C. and N. but never really adjusted to them. I'm somewhat ashamed to say it now but baby wearing seemed strange and too old fashioned to a very young, very immature me. It took three kids, 3 years, and two hands for me to realize I needed some other option simply to get through each day. Enter the Peanut shell, the Maya, the Ergo, and a few of their knock off cousins (have you seen the price on those things? I have 5 kids, I can't afford that just for a new fabric color). The green fleece was the most used of all though. I think it was given to me for N., or somewhere in between. Either way, that provided me with an ease of access this mama needed to do stupidly simple stuff.

Fast forward a few years, and two more babies who've been or are being toted around on their Mama's front/side/back. And then this article today. Part of me tries to be rational about it, remind myself that if properly used it shouldn't hurt the kids. It's still scary though, because you know the mothers mentioned had that same instinct to protect their child, but instinct alone simply wasn't enough. Sometimes I think sanity is only an illusion.

Quiet.

It's joyous to settle in for an end of Shabbat evening, and have total silence. Kids sleeping, husband studying (grad school), and me reunited with the laptop.  As High Holidays approach, I've enjoyed the time to be introspective, and to look at the changes I'd like to make for the next year (G-d willing). I really think this blog might help me with some of them, I just haven't realized exactly how yet. I do know that it's reawakened that itch to write, to share, to create. It's become too easy to fall into that never ending parenthood "rut". It's good to have a place to talk about something other than diapers and school for once.

On that note, one of my favorite "cover' bands, the Maccabeats have a High Holidays edition out.

To anyone who may stumble upon this sad little blog, enjoy your week.

Popular in Our House

Blogging Beginnings and the Bean's announcement.

I've used various forms of social media over the years, but I've come to realize they're all dependent on one thing, me keeping up with other people. Which is nice when I have the time, patience, and desire. Things I don't always have at the same time. More than anything though, I like the internet for it's space. I want to discuss something without worrying about what so-and-so down the street thinks. For that reason, I'm keeping some things private but hopefully that won't take away too much from what I write.



Like when I just want to vent at 3:30am because I'm pregnant, tired, and still nursing the babe. Yes, pregnant. Again. #6. Oldest just turned 7 recently. No twins. No, no plans on when we're stopping. Got that all out of the way? Okay, good. Back to the nursing thing. See I didn't nurse the first 3 for any length of time so  E. was my first totally boob fed baby, and the time between I. and E. was enough that I didn't have a full time nursing baby during a pregnancy. Not so much this time, happened a little quicker. So I'm sitting here trying to feed, type, and deal with first trimester loveliness. Today is going to be a long day.