feminism might be dead. at least in our house today.

And then this morning Phil took Iris to get her ears pierced, told her to Dominate It, and that was that.

Oh well.


the ear piercing that wasn't.

Iris decided this week that she absolutely must have her ears pierced. We counted the sleeps until the weekend when she would finally be able to put permanent holes in her earlobes. She was soooo excited omg only two more sleeps gahhhhhhhhh!!!!

And then.

We got to the mall and there was a gaggle of teenage girls getting various holes punched in their collective cartilage. As she observed them, Iris started to lose confidence. The girls were so sweet, offering to let Iris watch them get pierced, but by the time the piercing gun was raised to the first girl's ear Iris was like, Thank You But NOPE. No Way, No Ma'am. (Can I Still Get Ice Cream Though?)

As we sat eating our chocolate hazelnut Pinkberry with mountains of chocolate toppings I began to swell with pride. You know the feeling, parents, when your kid does something that just makes you go, "YES. That is a little piece of what life is about. You have learned something of importance here."

I told Iris how proud I was of her for being brave enough to change her mind. I told her that it's not always easy to change our mind, but we are always, always allowed to do so. I told her that she is in charge of her body and that she is the only one who is allowed to make decisions about it. And then I told her she can decide to get her ears pierced another day, or not at all. I think she forgot that this entire endeavor was completely optional. She seemed very relieved to be off the hook... even though this was all her idea and I never encouraged or discouraged any of it.

We ended up going back to the store and I bought her a pair of magnetic earrings. I have no idea how long those will last but she loves them for now.

I love natural teaching moments! Especially ones that end with chocolate hazelnut Pinkberry.


words that actually came out my mouth this week

At Kroger: "You may never, ever leave a store while I'm paying. You all know better! Hey! Are you listening? Get your arm out of that gum ball machine NOW and put your shoes back on."

At home: "Repeat after me: Tampons aren't toys."

At the park: "Stop licking that baby! That's not your baby. He can lick his own baby sister but you may not. We don't lick other people's baby sisters."


dear diary, i know i haven't written in a long time...

My poor, poor neglected little blog! Occasionally Phil shakes his head and tsks at me, "You know you can still see Christmas stockings when you go to your blog, right? Front and center." I know, I know. But it's like when you haven't talked to an old friend in a long time. There's so much to catch up on; where do you begin?

My kids are amazing. Perhaps you've been reading some of the ridiculous stories on Facebook. We average at least one poop incident every two days. And the children, they are a-growing! I keep feeding them and they get bigger. Weird.

It is challenging to blog with all this Little Kidness going on. I commend those of you who manage to keep writing, and write well. In fact, in the time it has taken me to write the last two sentences, I have been interrupted four times. (A jelly spill! Ruby, you can't cross the street! Stop sniffing that! I'll get the Band Aids!) And by the time evening falls I have just enough energy to play a couple games of Scramble With Friends before I cash out for the night.

Aside from the daily crazy, I also had my First Real Breakdown since Phil's diagnosis. Back then I was put on a pretty tame, low-dose garden variety SSRI. It worked beautifully. I came off of it before I got pregnant with Ruby and did okay. After Phil's most recent hospitalization five months ago, I was having a very difficult time processing all the chaos and drama. I was pretty much not functional in my most basic role as a human being. My doctor and I decided it would be in my best interest and the best interest of my family for me to go back on the same medication I had been on. And I was looking forward to feeling a little better.

What happened instead was that I had an awful six hour allergic reaction, similar to a psychosis, which then propelled me into almost two months of crippling panic attacks. Like, Phil had to hold down the fort and take a sick day or two to help because I was locked in the bathroom.

Obviously I did not continue the drug.

I had some wonderful friends at church pray for me. I dropped coffee altogether (I KNOW!!) which was worse than terrible for about a week and a half. I mean, I can't even begin to tell you how addicted I was and how bad the agitation and headaches were. I started drinking green tea instead. I did some research and decided to try Inositol along with my daily multivitamin. And I'm working out. (For real! Stop laughing.) It seems to be working. All of it. Plus the sun is out, which makes a huge difference in my attitude and outlook.

So you can see that writing was not necessarily a huge priority when I could barely drive children to school or make a sandwich without going into a complete tailspin. But I'm going to try from now on, Dear Diary, I really am! Stay tuned for poop stories, house projects that drag on for months too long and probably eventually more Christmas stockings.

I have to go wipe up a spill but I'll be back soon.

Miss you all!