Saturday, November 8, 2008

My Original Blog – “Attached”

My original foray into blogging was … well, I’m just going to say it. It was BORING. There. I also was scared to let anyone read it, so only 2 people ever visited it and I’m pretty sure they fell asleep while reading.

When I decided to start blogging again last July I thought I’d better get over myself and not write every detail of my waking hours (that’s all in my journals, my friends!). I thought that if others enjoyed it, that would be a bonus, but that I’m writing it for me and for the kids. Later I guess I can use this blog for World Domination. All in good time.

Here are samplings of posts from early 2006:

Thursday, January 19, 2006 titled No Access
So I'm starting a blog, and I don't even have Internet access at home. Plus I have 3 small kids, so having a thought and typing it at a remote location like the library or a friend's house is next-to impossible. But here goes nothing. My biggest problem is going to be writing this for myself ... and for my kids to read in the future. So I can't worry about what my dad would think or what my conservative relatives would think or of what people who don't like me would think. This is harder than it sounds, even for an outspoken b**** like me. Right now I'm at my mom's ... J. is bugging me to look at Littlest Pet Shop animals online, and M.'s cloth diaper keeps coming unsnapped because he is big for his age and not potty-trained, and C. is still awake and cruising along the furniture.

February 2, 2006 titled When the Children Cry
Pop Quiz: What do you do when all three kids under the age of five cry at once?

Option 1: Comfort the baby first. She's just a baby, for God's sake. Pick her up and change her, feed her or whatever. Then comfort the two older boys, who are probably crying because they were running around and bonked their heads together. The boys need to learn that you always show compassion to a baby. They will realize that you also showed compassion to THEM when they were babies and will feel warm and glowy.

Option 2: Comfort the boys first. All they need is to have their heads rubbed and kissed, and they are usually on their way. The baby can wait and won't remember this day in time and how insensitive you were.

Option 3: Comfort yourself first. Head for the nearest chocolate, Coke or baked good.

February 2, 2006 titled Money Money Money Money .... Muuuhhhhhneeee
Sometime I need to figure out how much money I have saved our household over the last 4.5 years by breastfeeding nonstop, using (and, yes, washing) cloth diapers and rarely buying actual baby food. I'm not bragging; I'm just cheap and my husband is an environmentalisty-type guy.

February 2, 2006 titled Lord, I Was Born a Ramblin' Man Part 1
My husband travels too much. It stinks. We all hate it. But it is a job. Money comes in. We have bills. We like to eat. We like to live in a house. We like to drive around in our minivan. We like to have electricity. We like to keep warm in the winter and cool in the summer. We like to have insurance on our cars, lives and health. He and I love kids. We want more. They cost money.

February 15, 2006 titled Oh, Canada
Well, this is called ATTACHED, so let's talk attachment parenting. I wonder what others who stumble into this blog think it might be about ... like some obsessive woman who is Fatal Attraction-ing some guy? No, nothing that exciting.

It means my kids are, like, attached to me at all times pretty much. And I'm generally cool with it. Except now, when I am typing and nursing at the same time and my oldest son is bugging me to come to the king-sized bed, where his sick brother is already sleeping. At times like this I don't do well with the whole non-violent communication thing. I do pretty okay when A's gone, but then I get antsy and think about scrapbooking and WRITING and how I'd love 20 uninterrupted minutes to do those things. Then I feel guilty and selfish. These times will pass so quickly and I am loving them so much. As I live my life I am aware that these sweet kid times are fleeting and it makes me wistful.
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