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housewarming party

Sh#t Jenny M. Didn't Even Tell You...

Somehow, somewhere along time and space the great sisterhood became secretive. I don't know if it's female misogyny or if we just don't disclose details that we think will make us look weak. Women just don't share enough. When other women talk to you about being pregnant they may talk of morning sickness or getting fat. They never tell you that you may get red welts with itchy hives.

"Oh did you get the seeping red welts yet?"
"The WHAT?"
" The seeping red welts, you know like your body is allergic to the baby, happens all the time."

WTF! Shouldn't we tell each other this shit? Are we so obsessed with being perfect we can't warn each other of possible horrific calamities. We have to wake up all on our own one day with fire welts. Then we run around the house looking for that stupid "What To Expect When You Are Expecting" book. Quickly turn to the index and ...then what? Where does one even begin to look in the index? Signs of demonic possession...flesh eating disease...no, no...Oh here it is ,
"...red welts filled with hives can be common in first preganancies..."
Really? Because that was not in the little handout  my midwife gave me.
So, off to the store to get a vat of calamine lotion.
Let me just say now sisters,as soon as you get a positive pregnancy test buy the vat of calamine lotion. Lots of things are going to make you itch and you can only take so much Benadryl.

Until next time,Happy Mothers Day!

My 40th Birthday, welted and wide :)

Pictorial Essay for Mothers Day

mom on the road-she was a roadie

me and mama

me and mama

mom in college-set and lighting design

me with lilacs-in the lilac city

me on my grandparents porch

moi

mama and me

mom

Ava and Mama

Wordless Wednesday

A Day in the Life

Let me please preface this post with how much I love being a mother. It truly is the most joyous experience. I have never felt such unconditional love. It is the most rewarding job one can undertake. All the happy horseshit people tell you is true. It is absolutely true.

That being said, I spent twenty minutes scrubbing the bathroom while muttering venomous, hateful things under my breath. Not about the baby, of course. No, I was muttering in general about people who make my life more difficult. Like, people who knock at my door continuously when I am desperately trying to put the baby (and myself) down for a nap.  

Let's back up a little. I have had about 3 hours of broken sleep each night for the past week. This has been due to, teething baby, the passing away of old friends, general anxiety, and the beat goes on. Today, the baby is teething (four teeth at once) and she had shots. Her Tylenol had just kicked in and we were both on the cusp of what promised to be a good hour of snooze time.

Who else was I muttering about? Oh, random customer service representatives that I have to deal with about various issues. The total lack of a baby sitter in my life. The fact that now that baby is deep into the separation anxiety phase it's a bad time to even think about finding said sitter.

I'm tired and bitchy.

I then spent the next twenty minutes scrubbing my baby. During this scrubbing I muttered soothing prayers to the universe to send me loving, helpful individuals. Did I mention the baby also has diarrhea and it's been a real down home poop fest lately. So, I scrubbed her and lotion-ed her and chanted soothing, helpful, loving prayers to the Gods.


I should probably mention that I've been threatening to run away and check into a hotel for a few days now. When I make the threat I pretty much state that I am,
"Running away and checking into a fucking hotel for three days".
It just makes me feel better to say it. I'm sure after three hours I would want to come home.

Now, back to topic... After the muttering and chanting and scrubbing and lotion-ing we came dowstairs to watch the "Sprout Goodnight Show". Yes, I know real highbrow shit. Don't get me wrong I love Nina and Star they can usually get the job done.

I worry about Nina. It must be incredibly difficult to smile so big and be so perky while teaching that fat star puppet Spanish. I bet when Nina goes home at night she does a huge wodge of heroin to cope. Perhaps she's a binge and purge control freak. It's something, I can see it in her eyes.


Oh, if at any point you want to interject that I should be reading my child bedtime stories instead of letting her watch the boob tube, f off. We are in a phase right now in which if you open a book in the baby's presence she goes rabid and tries to destroy it. Trust, I wish I could read her a book.

The line up on "The Goodnight Show" is super mind numbing. Hence the fact it can knock out babies. There is this one show called Caillou. Man, I want to punch that kid in the face. I remember thinking to myself how much I wanted to punch that kid and, wondering why he sucked so much. Then the credits came up and I saw the show is made in Quebec. Fucking Canadians...Serioulsy though, he speaks in the most awful little baby- waby voice. If Ava ever talks like that we are going to have issues. The kind of issues only a speech therapist can sort out.

Then I look to my right and see Ava's big cheeky smile, loving that fat star puppet and it's all worth it.



Amen

Topless Tuesday - Fun and Games

 Ok this weeks game is an introduction game. The purple parts are the answers. You can just cut and paste and erase my answers and fill in your own.




Hello, my name is Corrina.  I am 41 years old and I am majoring in Poopie Diapers.  My hometown is Seattle and I really love it there because I'm a goth at heart and love rain :P.  I always dreamed that someday I would not be an ugly duckling, and that dream has mostly come true.  I feel oddly nothing about it now!  Some things I like to do include drinking whiskey.  There are many things I am good at and one of them is drinking whiskey.  I did a really interesting thing once and that was illegal.  My family consists of daddy baby and monkey.  If I could change one thing about myself it would be: screw that I rock.  Still, I am really glad to be here right now because I could be a female in an arab muslim country wearing a berka and super pissed.  I would really like to get together with anyone who be interested in hanging out with me.  The one thing I want to be remembered for is my sense of humor.  As far as future plans are concerned, I hope to be  sane and have a babysitter someday.

gone fishin' as is Saturdays tradition

Beautiful Happiness

If you want to make progress,
Only think of your heart's happiness
And how you can keep
Your entire being happy.
Wherever you go,
Carry happiness with you.
Excerpt from Ten Thousand Flower-Flames, Part 52 by Sri Chinmoy

Time to thank the universe for whats good!

Thank you for,
Ava the most enchanting little spirit I have ever met

Daddy the hardest working most loving man in the world

My health

My sanity ( even though it may be it fleeting at times)

My friends
                                                    
A roof over my head ( a most fabulous roof)
                                                    
This human experience even when it seems exasperating and painful
                                                      
food (delicious food)
                                                    
music
                                                    
art
                                                    

love
                                                     
cookies
                                                    

cartoons
                                                    
etc...

The Truth Hurts and Then It Sets Me Free

*This post contains highly sensitive subject matter. It may be especially hard to read if you are close to me. Please proceed with caution and feel free to bail out at anytime.

In the interest of remaining Bare I am going to share a story that is incredibly painful. Yes it's a bit worse than having ppd. It is most likely the cause of my ppd(aside from chemical imbalance). No doubt it is the cause of a lot of things. I won't be giving details. I don't want to give some random perpetrator any thrill or ideas. I don't want to make any sensitive souls sick.

As I write this it is 12:16am. I had to get out of bed to take a Valium to stop racing thoughts. Last night my husband had to take me down with a Valium and two strong drinks to stop "data recall".

I have always known that something bad happened when I was a child. Actually, a lot of not so perfect things happened when I was a child. The bad things I could not remember were the ones that troubled me. I knew they had to be really bad if I had blocked them. I hadn't blocked parental alcoholism, verbal abuse or violence. I told you before my parents weren't perfect, no one is. I had long ago made peace with all of that nonsense. As the proverb goes "shit happens".  I still loved them. They still did a fine job of raising me even though they did it a bit messy. The bad things I could not remember, but knew were there, terrified me.  I was afraid that when I finally remembered, they would have been perpetrated by someone I loved.

When I first started feeling I had postpartum depression I did some research. I learned that the experience of giving birth either vaginally or c-section can sometimes trigger repressed memories. As beautiful as it is, birth is also pretty traumatic. It's also centered around your second chakra which relates to your sexuality so, it makes sense if you have had sexual trauma this may awaken body/mind recall.

I started having mini breakthroughs. Just quick pictures as I would have other racing thoughts. I would stop and scan through all the adults in my childhood. That's what I was doing wrong. My whole life I've been scanning memories of adults. I was looking in the wrong place. I would have never figured it out except I visited ViolenceUnsilenced. Right there on the front page it warns you about triggers. It clearly states that stories written by survivors of violence or sexual abuse may trigger repressed memories. I thought to myself "go for it, let's do this".  I was so tired of this looming specter.

I read about seven stories. Mixed in with those seven were two stories where the perpetrators were other children. Blam! My mind exploded into a million crystal clear pieces. I became physically ill. The computer screen was zooming in and out. I had a Migraine no medicine could stop. I was hot and cold. I was stuttering to myself as I put together the incidents. I just wanted my husband to come home.

It's been several days now. I think I've pieced together as much as I need to. There are still some black spots. That is probably for the best. I'm not ok that these things happened but, I am relieved it was not a trusted adult. For the record I'm not fucking forgiving anyone. I don't need to forgive to recover, seriously screw that. I can move on without forgiving. I'm not a sheep. I will turn no cheek. That shit was unthinkable, outrageous, and inhumane. Let whatever God my perpetrators pray to at night forgive them or better yet strike them down. I will forgive one person only. I forgive myself.

To know something happened and to truly remember it are two totally different ballgames. I'm going to be ok.

I can now take my rightful place upon a pedestal.  I can stop cowering in the dark corner afraid and confused.  

Wordless Wednesday

Jenny at dapperhouse.com: Ask for it....G rated Internet Searches

Jenny at dapperhouse.com: Ask for it....G rated Internet Searches

She is so right about this...I'd love a porn filter on searches
When I want to search for porn I can but when I'm looking up cupcake recipes or puppets I'll pass on the porn please. I don't want Ava seeing giant pop up penises whilst we look for Big Bird.

Topless Tuesday - Let it all Hang Out!

This weeks game is short but sweet! It's called when I grow up. All you do is tell what you wanted to be when you grew up. Not what you wanted to be once you grew up and saw how the world worked. Tell what you wanted to be when you were a child.


I'll go first.  I wanted to be a stand up comedian.

Stash Hash Installment 6

Let's hash covers! They come in all shapes and sizes. In an earlier hash I described wool and all if it's wonderful qualities. To recap, wool is anti-bacterial by nature, absorbent, temperature regulating and totally fetch! 

I did not hold out. I bought The Sloomb longies!!

Fleece covers work on the same principals as wool. They are soaker's not "repelers" (yes I know that is not a word). They also come in super fun combos and shapes. Fleece can be long pants, shorties or soakers. My latest addiction is with MadPie's! They are the cutest made in the USA by a WAHM fleece anything's I have ever seen. Mrs. MadPie lets you totally custom out what you want. You choose all fabric colors, trim, and style.They are beyond functional. I have not even felt dampness through this quality fleece. The construction is flawless.

MadPies! Insanely well made!

Gen-Y PUL

We <3 Gen-Y

Then there are the closest relatives to the old school plastic pants, polyurethane laminate covers. Surprise! I have an addiction when it comes to these as well! Gen-Y covers are beyond cute. They use really cute fabric and the fit is awesome. It's not a trim fit. I wouldn't put these on under clothes. You would not want to hide these though. It's T shirts and baby legs all the way with our Gen-Y covers.

I know I promised to hash on Rockin Green this installment. I decided they are so awesome they need a hash all their own. Until we meet again, I'll just be here battling the pee and poo one piece of cloth at a time.

*All products were purchased by the author. These are not solicited reviews. I'm just telling the tale of my cloth journey.

happy easter

It's now a tradition every Saturday I'm

...and now for something completely different

Shit Jenny Mccarthy didn't even tell you would happen during pregnancy and in it's aftermath...

This will be a new series here at Bare and will cover topics both humorous and serious. Stay Tuned

misconception of the definition of feminism

I have been traveling in cyberspace to other mommy blogs. I noticed a topic trend. It seems the collective "we" are a bit up in arms regarding children, toys, and gender roles.  I do no care to debate if one should allow princesses or baby dolls. I like toys and being a child should be about play. You should be free to choose your playthings without grown up worry of how it may psychologically damage you. Also, as a parent you should be free to guide your child however you see fit.

What I found troublesome was the "modern" perception of the definition of feminism. It seemed a common thread that to be a feminist was to believe that men and women are physically and mentally identical. Even a child knows that boys and girls are different. I'm pretty certain our fore-sisters had a more evolved thought process than a child.

Feminism is not the idea that we are all physiologically the same. It is the concept that we should all, men and women, have the same opportunities.  To put feminism in a tiny box that states it is so narrow minded as to claim men and women are identical, is to forget that women used to be second class citizens. We were not allowed to vote. We could not own property. We could not show our ankles, let alone put on our favorite sex and the city heels and go have a cocktail. Feminism is not about wanting to be a man. It's about civil liberties. We take those for granted. That may be because we don't live in a country where they cut off our clitoris to keep us in line. However, in the big picture it was not that long ago our husbands were allowed, legally, to beat us and we did "as we were told".

I have been a single working female most of my life. I was able to move freely through the world in that role because of the groundwork put down by feminists  I was also able to make the choice to marry my true love because of feminism. I didn't have to have a dowry thus making me valuable for marriage. Nor did I have to have an arranged marriage to help my lower class family climb up in social stature.

I was then able to make the conscious decision to become a stay at home mother because so many women (and men)before me fought for my right to make choices. I was not told when to marry. I was not told who to marry. I was not told when to breed. I did not become nonviable because I was past marrying and breeding age.

In the debate against gender roles, princesses , toys and how to raise children, feminsim is not the enemy.
Our fore sisters fought so that we could have public debates. They fought for our voice. Their aim was not to make us men, just as valued as men. If they hadn't we would all be writing these blogs under assumed male names like our ancestral female writers had to write their novels.

Below is a definition from the Wikipedia


Feminism is a collection of movements aimed at defining, establishing and defending equal political, economic, and social rights and equal opportunities for women.^[1][2][3] Its concepts overlap with those of women's rights. Much of feminism deals specifically with the problems women face in overcoming social barriers, but some feminists argue that gender equality implies a necessary liberation of both men and women from traditional cultural roles, and look at the problems men face as well. Feminists—that is, persons practicing feminism—may be persons of either sex.
Feminist theory emerged from these feminist movements^[4][5] and includes general theories and theories about the origins of inequality, and, in some cases, about the social construction of sex and gender, in a variety of disciplines. Feminist activists have campaigned for women's rights—such as in contract, property, and voting—while also promoting women's rights to bodily integrity and autonomy and reproductive rights. They have opposed domestic violence, sexual harassment, and sexual assault. In economics, they have advocated for workplace rights, including equal pay and opportunities for careers and to start businesses.

Wordless Wednesday/4/20/One month blogaversary blow out

Topless Tuesday : Come and join the fun

Ok time for audience participation! Play the game people!

• If you were a comic strip character, who would you be and why? Snoopy - he has a rich inner world
  

• What thought or message would you want to put in a fortune cookie? you just ate sea turtle in msg sauce
  

• If you had to give up a favorite food, which would be the most difficult to give up? Coffee
  

• What is one food you’d never want to taste again?  Spam or Powdered Milk it's a toss up
  

• If you won a lottery ticket and had a million dollars, what would you do with it? Buy my house, pay for Ava's college, tell Daddy to quit his job!
  

• You’ve been given access to a time machine.  Where and when would you travel to? I would travel back just a few years and stop the tragic death of my good friends brother
  

• If you could be any superhero and have super powers, which one would you like to have and why? I am a superhero and my power is the power of crazy. If I have to be another superhero I choose hit girl and her wicked assassin skills

• Mount Rushmore honors four U.S. presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Roosevelt.  If you could add any person to Mount Rushmore, who would you add and why? Cheif Seattle - REPRESENT

• What award would you love to win and for what achievement? #1 mom
  

• If you could transport yourself anywhere instantly, where would you go and why? Las Vegas to see single R with the baby
  

• In your opinion, which animal is the best (or most beautiful) and why? Cats - because they get me

• What is one item that you really should throw away, but probably never will? I don't have any

• Growing up, what were your favorite toys to play with as a child? My 1950's Barbie and Ken and my stuffed animals oh and I had a baby doll named Rose Marie I loved to death

Stash Hash Installment 5

contour

As I continued my journey I de-evolved. I inched closer and closer to the old school prefolds. I started with a contour. This is like a prefold with the work removed. It has as the name suggests a contour shape so, no folding needed.  A cover is needed with a contour and either a snappi or pins.

wickedly awesome prefold

I was still terrified of prefolds. One day I was drooling over photos on goodmama's facebook page. There are two pictures of her youngest daughter in a prefold. Goodmama had gotten a really snug, adorable fit with a prefold. I was intrigued. First of all prefolds are about two dollars and fifty cents a piece. I could really start quenching my insatiable thirst for new diapers on the cheap. So, I ordered some. It took some practice and some patience. I have to admit prefolds are now (almost) my go to favorite. There is just something about the simple elegance of the white diaper with the serged edge. Not to mention I then get to explore the vast and adorable world of covers!

We'll take a look at some awesomely artful covers next stash hash and discuss the worlds most amazing laundry detergent RockinGreen!

*All products were purchased by the author. These are not solicited reviews. I'm just telling the tale of my cloth journey.

The Modern Housewives Guide To Multitasking

I needed a shower. The bra needed to be hand washed. I wore the bra in the shower.

Get Hooked UP!

Head on over to Cowpatties cloth Diaper blog !!! Win One of her FAMOUS pocket fitteds! They ROCK!You'll be wining a fabulous product from a work at home mom-Made in the USA :) If you need to know more about how awesome she is just refer to Stash Hash installment 4 - I rave about her there !

All in all it's just another brick in the wall

In the battle of primal energy versus societal brainwashing who will win?
I am really rooting for primal energy but, societal brainwashing is a bitch. What is success? Be successful. Be a cog in the great machine so that "it" may be successful.
Stay on task. Do not break formation.

Forsake all others for the hamster wheel. Forsake yourself first and foremost. Crush your dreams. Put them aside. Smash your soul down into a dark fuzzy little hamster and put it on the wheel.

Put on the uncomfortable clothes. Go to the uncomfortable place. Do the uncomfortable task. If you don't you are a failure. Keep doing it until your eyes become beady and you grow a thin tail. You once had magnificent wings. Now you have a thin sad tail. You are a rat. You are in the rat race. It's ok. That's what you are supposed to do. Keep the machine running. Stay on task rat.

Don't try to get off the wheel. Even if you try another will be built. Don't listen to your motherly instincts stay on task. Infants are manipulative. They cry for no reason. Stay on task.  Do work. Make more work to do. Forsake all others.

Wait,stop that. What are you doing? You are picking her up. You broke formation. Lazy rat, you will be punished  saved, amen. You are spoiling nurturing her. Don't do that. We need her nice and deprived like the other rats. Forsake all others, especially yourself.

Fuck that. I am going to go cuddle the baby, kiss my husband, pet the cat, dream a dream. That's what I call staying on task.

What is success?

Can there be a new American dream?

Wordless Wednesday

Topless Tuesday

Made you look!

Ok let's play some get to know me (and maybe you if you are brave enough to comment) games.

We will Start easy. If you could have dinner with three people from anytime in history/dead or alive who would they be.

1. Harvey the rabbit (yeah from the movie w/Jimmy Stewart)

2. Mr. Jones (that's my dead cat)

3. William Burroughs (someone has to bring the bug powder)

*if you say jesus, john lennon, or albert einstein you are disqualified

Date Night

The time is somewhere around noon.  It's Saturday. Grandma has phoned and made promises of coming over. Daddy and I are finally going to leave the house together without the baby. The baby is approximately 4 months old.

I'm so excited I immediately start trying to find an outfit I can look half way decent in, that is not my stretched out maternity clothes. The time is around 3pm. I stuff myself in a "shaper"  (see evil undergarment). I then stuff myself into normal pants. Yes I'm still fat at 4 months after baby. This isn't Hollywood.  I put on make up.

The time is 5ish pm. Daddy looks nice. We are getting really hungry. The shaper is eating me alive.

The time is now somewhere around 8pm. It's baby bedtime. I'm putting her to sleep when grandma arrives.
Baby is really tired and gorges herself on milk. I put her to bed. Grandma informs us she only has about an hour to hang out. We choose the closest restaurant we can think of. Who cares we just want to eat a meal together. We just want to eat.


We speed to the restaurant and make quick work of the menu. We order drinks! (cue the harmonious sounds of angels singing).

Daddy's cell phone rings.

"come home the baby won't stop crying, and she projectile vomited!"

"did you try any of the things we told you to try to get her to stop crying?"

"no..."

We leave. I yell to the waitress that I am sorry we have to leave. I can see the bartender pouring our drinks.

Test Subject Ava cont'd

Whats on Ava's bum...

You will surely think I have gone insane. Night diapering has become insane. Now that she moves around and pisses fifty gallons, I'm dumbfounded. It's messed up because, this is what started my hate for disposables. At around 3 or 4 months I brought her into bed with Daddy and me. I was waking up in a pee puddle every morning. The rest is cloth history.

Now I live with Peezilla.  Last night she devastated a pooters hemp fitted with TWO doublers and drenched her freshly lanolized sloomb soaker. I know that sounds like greek but in cloth land it's like, unheard of. Wool can suck up 30% of its weight in fluid. I could have wrung the muther out. She was surrounded by a lake sized piddle puddle.



{It also dawned on me that the last couple of nights she started getting up for a  bottle.  No doubt because she is starving from the non-stop standing , crawling, commando rolling she does all day.}

I did some research and read some pretty crazy combo's for night diapering. I don't feel so alone now.

Tonight she is wearing a contour with a fleece liner. Over that I have a minky kawaii ( a big fuzzy pocket diaper as a cover)with a bamboo insert(see absorbent layer). She is stuffed and wrapped up tight.  It's a fleece, unbleached thick cotton, bamboo, fleece, polyurethane laminate, minky sandwich wrapped around her bum.

Wish me luck if I wake up cuddling Peezilla and my pajamas are all wet again, I may go stark raving mad.
Make that more stark raving mad. I love Peezilla. I just hate not being able to solve a problem.

*just as in all stories all products have been purchased. I have not been solicited in anyway to do reviews. I'm just giving a play by play as I work through the journey of motherhood