Rachel's Creed

I believe in healing and the full restoration of wounded people.
I claim that for myself and my family.

I believe in the provision of a propitiation --perfect substitute-- for desperate situations.
I trust that God will bring one about for myself and my children in His timing.

I believe the promise that God will heal the broken hearted, binding up their wounds.
I am comforted in knowing that I won't hurt forever.

I believe the promise that God will turn our mourning into dancing.
I am excited to know my life will be abundant.

I believe that past suffering can be used to bring about the survival of many people.
I will use my journey as a way to lift others up.

I believe that I do not have to be hurt in the same way again.
I will choose to be healthy and protect myself while loving extravagantly.

I believe that God is all I need, and He will lead me beside still waters.
I will not follow temptation to have anything replace what He can give me.

I believe that I am valuable.
I will live in a way that models for my children that one's value is not dependent upon what happens to her.

I believe that my future is beautiful.
I have peace and joy when I think about what is to come. 

What are you claiming for yourself today?

Like A Pearl

I want this ring. Like, really, really badly. I am not much of a jewelry person, even. It's not that I don't like jewelry (I do); I'm just a pretty practical person and it doesn't always fit my lifestyle. However. I have a problem with stalking two shopping sites: www.Etsy.com and https://www.theveteranssite.com.

I first found The Veteran's Site Store because they periodically have music videos with military themes and I have a heart for that, so I've been watching their stuff since I discovered them about two years ago. Not only do they post videos, but they have this really cool store that's right up my ally with handcrafted "hippie" stuff, free trade items, and just all around neat stuff...and their prices are so reasonable! They are constantly having sales and the shipping is flat rate! The BEST part though, is that the proceeds from what you buy help to feed and house US veterans, to whom I am forever grateful for.

So the ring. I found it browsing their site today, and I'm pretty sure my heart skipped a beat when I saw it. I don't know why, exactly, because I've seen other beautiful rings before. This one in particular cries out to me. I love non-traditional beautiful rings. You know, diamonds that aren't like everyone else; pearls that are, well, blue in this case. :) Once I clicked on the link and read the description, though...WOW! That is my life right now!

Timeless as the night sky, our Midnight Freshwater Pearl & Sterling Ring is a beautiful testament to the beauty that can come from persevering through struggle.

Pearls are developed because of an irritant inside a clam--sand. Instead of up and dying, rejecting the hardship, or being forever damaged, the clam creates something beautiful out of something ugly, useless, and painful. Once the pearl is created, it can be removed from that clam without harm, giving something precious to the world and giving a normal life back to the clam. That is what I wish my life to be, and what I believe it is right now. Domestic violence destroyed my marriage, and almost destroyed me in the process. When people ask me how I can still believe in marriage and the love of God after what I went through, I simply explain it as it's said in the end of Exodus: that I am ok with the fact that I went through these things because it will bring about the survival of many people. Like a pearl, beauty can come from persevering through struggle.

I may just buy myself that ring. Not sure yet, since I'm not one to buy things for myself, but it's possible.

"Oh Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me." (Psalm 30:2)

"The Lord will be your everlasting light, and  your days of sorrow WILL end." (Isaiah 60:20b)

Love Exuberantly

This is what I think...

You should hold your babies more, and never stop kissing them and telling them that you love them. You shouldn't be afraid to rock them to sleep, to let them get messy, or to let them snuggle you in the morning before you get out of bed. It doesn't matter if your floor isn't always spotless or the clean laundry always folded. It does matter that your children know they are loved unconditionally with an agape love. It does matter that you touch them and hold them and giggle with them and smile at them. Remember that the purest form of you is who you are when you're with your children. Let them know that they are the best thing in the whole wide world. Love those children, and make sure they know it. Don't ever hold back; love exuberantly.

This is what I think...

You should spend more time with that person who you are bound to. Whether it's a best friend, a girl friend, or a husband, be with them. You don't know when an accident will happen, cancer will strike, or something unforeseen takes them from you. Cherish your time. Love them. Stay up late talking, watching funny movies, and listening to the rain. Don't be afraid to experience everything possible that life offers with that person. Take every opportunity to love on that person, to fix every problem that hinders your relationship, and to serve that person with bounding joy. Learn to love better, and practice it. Do not take them for granted or take lightly the memories you have the opportunity to create together. Hold on to that person, the one that you can't live without, or at least that you don't ever, ever, ever want to live without. Love that person, and make sure they know it. Don't hold back; love exuberantly.

This is what I think...

I don't know what you felt when you got that phone call, and I won't pretend that I felt your fear. I do know, though, that I will hold your unconscious baby, sing to him, and love him for you when you can't do it yourself. I will do everything that is absolutely possible to give life to your baby, no matter what it costs me in the process. I will always be sure that I know what I'm doing, that everything is ready, and that your child comes first when my scanner goes off and I step into that ambulance. You don't need to fear, because when I get there, he becomes my baby too, and there is nothing stronger than a mama's heart. Know that if anything ever happens; if I can't get our baby to the place where he should be, or if things go wrong and something happens, I will be sobbing too. You may not see it, but I am breaking inside, too.

I won't pretend that I understand what it must be like to see your  unresponsive husband lying on a backboard with blood pooling everywhere. I do know though, that I feel part of your pain when I want him to wake up and he doesn't. When I know that he may never open his eyes again. When I know that you are standing there watching him die while I try to give him life. It's not easy as I gently tell you to hold his hand and kiss him, to talk to him and reassure him. What I am really saying is that you need to tell him goodbye and hold on to him for these minutes that he is still here for. Know that I am doing everything I can, though. Part of a team, I am still watching everyone and everything. I will speak up on his behalf, and I will make sure he is treated correctly. I will talk to him by name as I push oxygen into his lungs, and I will be ready to do everything possible to get him home. But if that doesn't happen, know that I am standing behind you, and that I wanted him to live, too.

This is what I think.
Seize every opportunity possible to love exuberantly. Don't wait for tomorrow, for tomorrow may never come.

-------

Originally posted at http://OctobersHeart.blogspot.com. 

If you aren't already following my blog there, then head on over! 

Swimsuits I Want

At some point, all of my extremely hard work is going to pay off (or so I tell myself). I am currently on day 21 of Insanity (check it the video below) and have yet to see any results. It's getting to be very, very depressing. I do actually think, though, that my thyroid is out of whack and affecting this weight problem as I have had symptoms for YEARS that have gotten worse since having my second baby. We're talking a body temp in the 96-97f range, water retention, adult acne, brittle nails, fatigue, etc.. Pretty much EVERY symptom of hypothyroidism. Why am I not on medication? Because I have never been able to test "positive" on the blood work scale. :-\ So I am left now to killing myself and not being able to lose a single pound (example: I did the full 10 day Lemonade Diet a few years ago and lost nothing. NOTHING after not eating for 10 days! Now, I am doing the most intense pure cardio workout that I could find and have lost NOTHING again!), being saddened by the fact that I'm 26 and still have problem skin, and can NOT get rid of extra fluid regardless of what I drink or eat. Boo.

Ok, I'm done with the pitty party. If you're a medical practitioner that would prescribe me some Synthroid based on symptoms rather than blood work though, please let me know ASAP! Or if you aren't, I'm open to all suggestions below. :)

Anyway, I randomly found Hapari Swimwear today online and I really want one of their swimsuits now. They claim to be a great brand for moms (we all know how that "mom" body is!), offering more support where you need it, coverage in the right places, but cute styles and prints to boot! My eyes are wide as I contemplate the possibility of looking good enough in a swimsuit that I can actually walk out into public while wearing it...

So once my body responds to my slave driving and I have the time to go tanning so you can't see through my pale skin, these are the styles that I like most:

My FAVORITE

 The look of comfort:

Feminine AND flattering!

<3 the print and cleavage support (haha)

 

Nursing Mamas Can Be Sexy, Too!

One of the biggest things new mothers have to combat after giving birth is their new body image. For 9 months, your body changed and developed into something entirely different than it was before. Beautifully encasing a growing baby, your body is (for most) easy to cherish during that time. Then the baby comes and it's as though your body morphed into something not-so-desirable in the snap of a finger. All of the sudden, you realize that you're overweight, have a very flabby belly, your thighs and butt are larger than they were before, and your boobs aren't nearly as perky.

While I am the first to say that mother's bodies are beautiful and the media has it totally wrong to consider the only form of beauty to be unhealthily thin models with large curves in very defined places (and forget stretch marks, or puffy eyes, right?), I am also the first to understand how hard it is to accept our new bodies once we become mothers. It's pretty tough to be sleep deprived, give of yourself so much in every way to those around you 24-hours a day, and somehow still feel beautiful.

After LoveBug's birth, it wasn't an option for me to do anything but breastfeed. I was so committed to it that I practically lived with my breast pump at all times since I had to work full time +. With breastfeeding also came the nursing bras...and boy, are they ugly! What is it with frumpy looking old-lady-beige colored nursing bras? Why didn't it occur to someone that us nursing moms need an extra boost of self confidence? I once heard a male coworker state "why would you need to wear a sexy bra after you're married? No one will see it..." I rolled my eyes.

It took me a very, very long time to find sexy nursing bras on the market that fit me (size 32huge--how would it make YOU feel if even Victoria's Secret didn't even carry your size?). Most of them are very expensive (at least to the cheapskate that I am), but I think they are totally worth it. So ladies, throw out your frumpy beige bolder holders, and stock your drawers full of these:

Hot Milk Lingerie

http://www.hotmilklingerie.com

From New Zealand, they sell matching bra and panty sets, include 3/4 cup size for pregnant and nursing mamas. Not only this, but they also have a few lingerie "nightie" selections, some pj's, and a camisole.  Bras average around $60.00 and sport dramatic names like "Her Midnight Charm Was Striking" and "Tamed By Her Sensuality." Oh, yes. I snagged an "Awakened By Her Desire" bra over Black Friday and am happy to report that the fit is pretty good, and it's a very sturdy bra. I thought the lace overlay was cheesier in real life than in the photo, but it's still 100x better than the beige. The nursing enclosure, like most nursing bras, leaves a strap in place where the cup would be when you open the nursing flap.

Cake Lingerie

http://www.cakelingerie.com

From their website: "Cake was born in 2008 when its founder; Tracey Montford yearned for beautiful lingerie during her pregnancy. All she could find was matronly, high cupped, uninspiring and unflattering product which did nothing for her self esteem and pride, during this period of vulnerability" ...Can it be said any better than this? This company is one that really gets it. In fact, they began a "Real Mums, Real Fit" campaign, using NO models and doing NO touch ups for stock photos. How much closer to awesome can a company get?! Their bras also retail for around $60 and matching panties are also available with 2 styles to choose from per bra. One exciting thing is that they're just about to launch a new line, and it looks pretty delicious (yes, pun intended).

My husband got me their "Plum Pudding" bra for Christmas and I have to say that it is the BEST fit in a bra that I have EVER had. I only wish that I had gotten a larger band size, but the cups are awesome! They're actually round and hold their shape which I can't say for most other bras (it seems that most are oblong one way or another). I also love that when you drop the nursing flap/cup, there is no strap that crosses your breast. It's just like a regular bra that will drop the cup on your command. Super comfy, very well made, and cute as all get out. I am hoping for another one come Valentine's Day and our anniversary. ;-)

A Paramedic's Drive Home

The snow has been furious the last two nights as I drove home. What normally takes me 35 minutes took me exactly one hour on Tuesday night (with my two babies strapped into the back seat) and what seemed like an endless amount of time on Wednesday night as well. For some reason, the plow and salt trucks didn't see a need to be out to clear the road that was covered with snow over a layer of ice which resulted in me driving 20 mph all.the.way.home. Nice. Yesterday, the problem was not the road condition, but the visibility factor. Huge, beautiful, and memorizing snow flakes came at my windshield like a computer screen saver for the whole drive. Not only did you have to fight the hypnotic state it created, but you really couldn't see anything including the lines on the road. Great.

All of this did make me realize one thing, though: there is no better motivation to drive extra-extra carefully than to know who will be cutting your clothes off if you crash.

The drive home of a paramedic goes something like this...

First, I double check my kids' car seats to make sure they're secured properly and that the thermal blanket is within arm's reach if I need it. As I begin my drive, I am extra cautious as I approach the classic crash sites, and I think about the medic that just took my place when my shift ended 30 minutes ago. I warned his partner before I left that they are under no circumstances to cut all of my clothes off in the event my car flips over, and he promised to abide by that. After all, good bras are ridiculously expensive and by no means do I need my coworkers seeing me unclothed either. Seriously.

As I navigate the road, I'm proud that I made it through the curve that my own car crashed on 7 or so years ago. In my mind, I prepare a list of who is home and would respond with the fire department whose district I'm in right now. I think to myself that I would tell the 911 dispatcher to let the fire and ambulance know who wrecked her car so that I'd be sure to have the people show up who I know would do a good job and take care of my kids. As I pass out of my "favorite" department's district though, I enter the next one.

There is no way I'm crashing here, and I slow down to 15 mph even though I could probably go 25. Why? Because I know one of the whackers in this department. Not only would he probably drive too fast for the conditions and slide his own truck into the side of my small car potentially killing my children, but he would have his scissors out before he could unbuckle his seat belt. I taste a little vomit in my mouth at the thought of this...maybe I'll go 10 mph.

The county line arrives now, and my stomach drops as I realize I'm now entering not only the worst part of my travel (including losing cell service), but I have also now changed ambulance districts. I also think about how I'm passing the home of a registered child rapist and that if I crashed in front of his house, he may come out to my car to see what's going on. No, thank you. I continue to drive as safe as is humanly possible, and I think to myself that the "Big & Rich" CD I'm listening to for the third time now is really great music to get you through a horrendous snow storm that no one in their right mind should be out during. Then it hits me: last time I had to be cut out of my car, this CD was playing...I immediately eject the CD and throw it on the passenger's seat.

Into the next district now. Only two more districts to go, and my ambulance partner is one of the chiefs in the one I'm in now (yes, I think in terms of "districts" rather than "miles"). I vow to call him after I get off the phone with 911 if the unspeakable happens. I know he'll run the show right.

Finally, finally, I arrive home and in one piece. I feel so successful that I want to broadcast my status on Facebook as "one more day goes by where my clothes stay intact."

Like I said, there is no better motivation to drive carefully then to know the people who will be cutting your clothes off. Join your local fire department.

My Favorite Thing About 2011

I had some amazing things happen in 2010. First, the birth of my son. Secondly, a job change. And thirdly an most recently, a new husband.

I hope to write about my husband's and my journey during February (the month of looooooooove, ya know), but there's something I need to post today. I realize you may not understand all of it yet, but bear with me anyway.

Dear Ron,

You are my favorite thing about 2011. Little did anyone around us realize, but a month ago we were about to get divorced. Everything had built up over the last almost-five-years, you weren't changing, and I was done with being treated that way. I had begged you and told you it was happening, but it took my heart leaving you for you to wake up and realize and admit what you had been doing and how damaging it was to our family.

I love that you are once again the man I fell in love with. Since our wedding, I haven't been married to the man I said "yes" to. I have missed him so very much but have done my crying in silence and just endured things because I'm good at that and can find a way to be happy anyway. I wish I had understood that sometimes love says "no" and makes that "no" happen, maybe keeping us less broken in the process.

Either way, my heart is coming back. The journey we will be taking during this year can give us a beautiful ending to our lives, and I am glad we are in it together. Our babies are blessed to have you as their daddy, and I am elated to now, FINALLY, be married to that man I said "yes" to six years and almost five months ago to.

Don't give up. I am falling back in love with you.

Love,
Rachel

"Can't Help Falling In Love" cover by Pearl Jam

Making Milk At A Meth Lab

Working mamas push the limits of where, when, and how to pump milk for their babies every day. A few months ago, I began to think of all the crazy places I've had to express milk for my children. Here was the list I could remember:

1. Public restrooms EVERYWHERE, including while sitting on the floor of stalls because my pump-outlet cord wasn't long enough for me to at least sit on the edge of the toilet seat.
2. In the car while traveling.
3. On the floor of a car in a mall's parking lot with a coat over my head. The mall's restroom was closed, the stores not open yet, and I had no batteries for my pump so I had to sit there and express by hand with a coat over my head, hoping that people walking by wouldn't notice me and call Security.
4. In the "on track" ambulance at the busiest location during a NASCAR race.
5. In the back of an ambulance going to and from calls.
6. Into public restroom sinks because I had no other option (you know, the bathrooms that have everything in one room so you can lock the door!).
7. In an office cubicle.
8. While discussing EMS related things with 5 male coworkers. In person. Thank God for nursing covers--they work great for pump covers, too!
9. And also the "normal" places like my living room couch.

 While some of these places seem appalling and shocking to some, I'm sure, it all comes down to this: you do what you have to do. I thought I had reached the climax of best, worst, and most ridiculous places to have to pump at. And then there was last Tuesday.

My partner and I were attempting to grab a quick lunch when our tones went off and dispatch requested that "the on duty crew call the control center." This generally means a suicide attempt, domestic dispute, or drug bust. I called and was told that we needed to move to standby at a meth lab take down about half an hour from our station. With no time to call in another crew, I grabbed my backpack and we jumped in our ambulance.

We arrived at a nice home with a well manicured lawn that also now included 15 state trooper SUV's, a handful of expensive other "private" law enforcement related cars, and a few fire trucks, a decontamination trailer, and dozens of people in suits, turnout gear, space like suits (decon), uniforms, and camouflage (apparently the Special Op's team from a few hours away). Not knowing what to really expect at such a shin-dig, my partner and I were surprised to learn that this would be an all day event. So, I threw my nursing cover on, plugged in my pump, and made milk for my baby while watching the take down of a meth lab.

No one got shot, no booby traps hurt anyone, and I eventually left unscathed to call in a different crew to cover the remaining hours of standby. And with all that said, I'm pretty sure I have now pumped everywhere possible.

I'm Nervous

The title says it all: I'm nervous. The problem, you're wondering? My family bought a house last year. It's in a nice little suburb of a small, well known town. The kind of place where you've got a big sem-private backyard and all of the neighborhood kids walk around on the streets unattended but pretty well-behaved until dark every day. Deer and other wildlife are so rampant in our yard that one sometimes has to drive around them in the road because their nonchalant walk is slower than your car.

One threat has bothered me since we moved in: my neighbor's pool. While there are laws here regulating the safety of pools (including lockable gates and pool alarms), somehow, they've managed to slip under the radar. Instead of having any safety device at all, they have a 4' blow up pool that's quite accessible by anyone since you could climb in using the raised bed rails next to the pool, or, by golly, you could just climb up the ladder that's always left in it. Not even a pool cover. So I'm nervous. I'm nervous about the neighbor kids who swim unattended in this pool (one of which is a boy about 10-years-old and has no arms...so hopefully he will always come with a big sibling who can help him). I'm nervous about my almost-two-year-old daughter who loves to swim, loves to test boundaries, and is very clever when it comes to opening doors and such.

I keep telling myself that somehow, we won't be that family that accidents happen to. Easy for me to believe when I rescue those families for a living. Right! Actually, my experience and knowledge makes it harder for me. I care a whole lot.

Now there's a whole new problem revealed on the block. And it just so happens to reside at the home of my next-door-neighbors on the other side of us! What, you ask? A pit bull dog that just killed the neighbor's dog across the road the other day. Apparently, there was no growl or warning. Just an instant kill. 9-1-1 was called during the horrific ordeal, but the officer said he couldn't even write a report because it was on the property of the pit bull owner and it was the other dog (a poodle) that approached the pit bull (not maliciously, mind you). I knew that this dog was a problem, just by the way the neighbor handles him and little things she's said to us nonchalantly about keeping our daughter (who loves, loves, loves dogs) away from him.

My mama-bear instinct wants to march next door and demand to know why on earth they insist on keeping such a wretched dog whom they didn't even raise themselves. What if it had been a child who approached the dog? Does the neighbor realize that if he wants to take off on her, she won't be able to hold that leash? He's a big dog!

*sigh*

So I'm nervous, but I don't really know what to do. It wouldn't be good to make enemies with the neighbors about these issues, but I don't know how to tactfully say "hey, could you invest in a fence for your pool?" or "hey, could you shoot  put your dog down or sent him to a remote island, please?". It'd be great if we could fence in our yard, but that's out of our price range for now. I grew up playing outside, and I want my kids to have that opportunity as well. But with a little person, a killer dog, an unattended pool...I'm nervous she's going to get outside on her own and it'll be too late by the time I get there!

Suggestions?

Two BIG Secrets

I have two big secrets, and seriously, I am bursting at the seams. So instead of holding it inside me any longer, I'm going to tell ALL of you whom decide to read this blog post...

Secret #1: I received the AWESOME, all natural, best-2nd-birthday-present-EVER, "Complete Kitchen Center" from Guidecraft in the mail yesterday! This is a $370 + shipping item that I received in exchange for an upcoming review.

Okay, why am I so happy about this that I could throw up while I giggle? Because my daughter LOVES to play pretend and this is going to be her birthday present (turning two on October 31!). But it gets even better for you, because I'm going to be giving one of these away in November! WOWOWOW!

Secret #2:  I am starting my own business. Really. I can't tell you everything, but it involves organic fabrics, a hybrid diaper system, clothing for little ones, and lots of beautiful love. HOWEVER. I need two things to help get me started (well, three, including a large sum of money from any investors who may be interested!): a Snap Press, and a website designer.

Here's how you can help get me a snap press as well as win KAMsnaps.com gift certificates and your choice of over $3000 worth of other prizes:

Win a $20 @KAMsnaps.com gift certificate towards snaps, pliers, or a press, plus your choice among over $3000 worth in prizes including Ooga Booga fabric and designer jewelry/handbags. Go to http://bit.ly/bwXrGR to enter.

It's very fast and easy to enter, but I really need you to put me down as your "referrer" when you enter, because if you win, then I win, too! Please write: Rachel E., lifemoresimply at yahoo.com for the referrer's information.

The second way you can help me get my business going is by helping me with my website. I just purchased my own domain name and will be moving this whole blog over to www.LifeMoreSimply.com as soon as I get the time to figure out how to do so. I want to overhaul everything, though, and get a "shop" set up on the same domain for my business. If you do website designing, send me an email at lifemoresimply@yahoo.com with "website design" in the title! Since I need to pinch every penny possible, I am hoping to find a brilliant person who will do the job in exchange for some PR from me that would include permanent links for them in my shop and my blog, as well as a blog post where I rave about how wonderful you are. The first person whom I like that contacts me can have the job. Unless April from http://www.aprilshowersblogdesign.com/ reads this and wants the job. Then she gets it because, well, she rocks.

Wow, I sure do feel better having gotten my secrets out!

The Great SAHM vs. WOHM Debate

I wrote the article below for DiaperSwappers.com where I also blog at. While I'm not really supposed to double post, I wanted to get some input on your thoughts about this article before I post it over at Diaper Swappers. The reason is that I want to make sure I articulated myself well enough to not offend everyone and that I'm not creating more problems than I'm solving. Please leave me your thoughts as a comment below--should I post this article over at Diaper Swappers, or not?

I began my mothering career by being at home full time for the first six weeks of my daughter's life. Six weeks and five days after her birth, I returned to my full time weekday and part time Saturday job with breast pump and tissues in tow. I continued this journey for the next 17 months until I was pregnant with my second child and taken off of work at 32 weeks gestation due to pregnancy complications. My daughter was 18-months-old at that time and I felt as though I had missed all of her infancy. We spent the next 8 weeks cuddling and playing to make up for the time spent apart, finally with me as a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM).

After my son was born, I began working part time when he was five-weeks-old. With two babies in tow, I am ever so thankful that my husband was able to finally find a job after a two year search. While I still have to work to make ends meet, I am now a work-out-of-home-mom (WOHM) two days a week, a work-at-home-mom (WAHM) one day a week, and a SAHM for the other four days. Having experienced all of these different mothering styles has allowed me some insight into the challenges and rewards of each one, and I can now say that I think the enjoyment and difficulty level of each one just depends on the mother and the circumstances surrounding why she is one of these three things.

When I was a WOHM, I would often receive snide comments from sometimes well meaning and sometimes not so well meaning individuals. They were from all three types of mothers—not just from SAHM's which many people assumed. The interesting thing, though, is that as a SAHM and now part time WOHM, I'm still receiving comments—they're just of a different sort! It seems as though the dreaded “mommy wars” hound mothers for their titles of WOHM/SAHM/WAHM. It's too bad, because being a mother is hard enough without being judged and criticized for your work status.

Here's a secret that a lot of moms seem to forget: we don't all like the status we're currently in. I despised being a full time WOHM and I still hold true to that even after being a full time SAHM (contrary to the ever popular “so do you still want to be home?” question I'm asked after experiencing the life of a SAHM...like I'm supposed to start dreading it after two weeks or something)! However, I know women who hate being SAHM's and prefer to work away from the home. And guess what: it's okay to be different.

Remember that the mothers in your situation and those in a different situation may not be there because they want to be. Be careful what you say, because your innocent comment may strike the dagger into the heart of the mom who would do anything to be in your shoes. Having now seen both sides of the story, I can attest to wanting to pull my hair out from being home with two babies for three days straight and not even having had time to pee. But I can also attest to crying all day at work because someone else is watching my daughter roll over for the first time. Motherhood isn't about which role is more difficult, and if we're honest, the martyrdom of having the “toughest” work status (whichever we determine that to be on any given day) doesn't actually make us a better mother than the one who we think has it “easier.”

A woman's work status doesn't determine her intelligence level, talent, or capabilities. It shouldn't determine her character, either, so let's stop warring over the great WOHM vs. SAHM debate. Instead, next time we're about to say something or be offended by something someone else said, let's remember that we're all different. Sometimes, a mama just needs to vent. It isn't a jab at someone else for the SAHM to say that she's ready to ship her kids to Taiwan or for the WOHM to say that she would be fine if the only people she ever spoke to again were her kids. Sometimes, a mama just needs encouragement, and sometimes, a mama just needs to know that it's okay to dislike, or even to like, her status.

So the next time you're about to be offended by something someone said, or when you're about to say something in regards to working in the home, at home, or away from home, stop and remember. Remember that what makes us mothers isn't our work statuses. It is the fact that we love our children, want what's best for them, and are going to do whatever we have to do to make that happen. Love, not work, is what makes the world go 'round.

Patriot's Day, September 11th

Happy Patriot's Day!

9-11

Always Kiss Them Goodbye

Always kiss them goodbye.

The call comes out over the radio and your adrenaline starts to rush. A boat accident. One of the men can't be found, and the other is badly injured. You jump in the back of the rig and start setting equipment up while your partner drives (too fast) to the scene.

Always say "I love you."

One of the men is flown to a large trauma center. My phone rings and my sister is crying. Suddenly, the man we are searching for becomes more than a patient. He is now a name. A face. And my heart breaks for my sister's friend. I tell her that no, they haven't found him yet.

Always make the most of every day.

It's been two days. I come on duty and ask if he's been found. I am told that the hooks found him on the bottom of the lake last night. I think back to when I was 18-years-old and saw the hooks for the first time. Bigger than my head, I had jokingly asked if they were to catch humans. I was unjokingly told that yes, they are designed to hook a person under the knees. And then I was told that whomever is the one holding the other end of the hooking line should never look at the body. Ever. It's too hard to move on if you see his face.

Always make the most of every night.

I think of his wife and their 7-year-old son. I wonder if his dirty laundry is still laying on the floor at home. I wonder if she kept that last text message he sent. I wonder if he stopped to whisper I love you before he left that morning, or if she took the time to kiss him goodbye. And I rememeber that all of my patients are someone's husband, sister, mother. I remember that, God forbid, it could be my husband, sister, mother.

So always, always, always, stop and say "I love you." And always kiss them goodbye.

Pepperidge Farm Milano Cookie Coupon

I'm hungry right now. I came to work at 7am and ended up sitting at a race track for 8.5 hours instead of providing EMS for the county due to last minute staff changes. Since I'm scheduled to be covering the county now until 6pm, I am sitting here blogging when I should really be pumping. You never know when someone's going to dial 9-1-1 and, well, wet spots on my shirt would be embarassing, so I really should be pumping now since I may have to leave at any moment. Anyway. I didn't bring any food with me today and I haven't gone out to buy any dinner, so I'm hungry. I did steal an ice-cream sandwich out of a big box of them in the freezer, but then I was just reading about new Milano cookies and realized that I'm still hungry. So no, they're probably not healthy, no, they're not organic, and no, I haven't tried them. But just in case you're standing in a grocery store while you read this, here's some money saving and delicious information for you:

Pepperidge Farm just released a NEW Strawberry Milano cookie (YUM!). They describe it as a

"fab little cookie deliciously pairs luscious strawberry filling with rich, dark chocolate for an irresistible, sweet indulgence that brings a moment of satisfaction to any day."

My own sweet summer moments? Being a SAHM for the first time, giving birth to my beautiful son, and then getting back into EMS. I would like to say that today's sweet summer moment also involves eating cookies, but alas, I'm still hungry.

Check it out!

• $1 off coupon: http://bit.ly/O2OdollaroffPF
• Pepperidge Farm Milano Facebook Page: http://bit.ly/MilanoFacebook

 

Happy 75th Birthday, Planned Parenthood

Planned Parenthood just celebrated their 75th "birthday." Ironic, because they take the birthdays away from hundreds of thousands of babies every year. Yes, they do some good things in my eyes like provide affordable contraceptives to the public. Unfortunately, even when I have been broke and uninsured, I have been unable to take advantage of these things because I can't get past the truth behind Planned Parenthood. You see, I believe that all people from the moment their own DNA is coded (at conception) are valuable and have the right to live regardless of age, social status, abilities, or race. Since I feel it is extremely important to be a voice for those who have none and to protect the unprotected, I can't bring myself to add to the numerical statistics or an organization who so strongly works against the sanctity of human life.

Quotes from Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood:

“We are failing to segregate morons who are increasing and multiplying . . . a dead weight of human waste . . .an ever-increasing spawning class of human beings who never should have been born at all.” -Margaret Sanger

“Every feeble-minded girl or woman of this hereditary type should be segregated during the reproductive period. Otherwise, she is almost certain to bear imbecile children … we prefer the policy of immediate sterilization, of making sure that parenthood is absolutely prohibited to the feeble minded.” -Margaret Sanger

“Organized charity itself is the symptom of a malignant social disease. Those vast, complex, interrelated organizations aiming to control and to diminish the spread of misery and destitution and all the menacing evils that spring out of this sinisterly fertile soil, are the surest sign that our civilization has bred, is breeding and perpetuating constantly increasing numbers of defectives, delinquents and dependents…….to breed out of the race the scourges of transmissible disease, mental defect, poverty, lawlessness, crime … since these classes would be decreasing in number instead of breeding like weeds….such a plan would … reduce the birthrate among the diseased, the sickly, the poverty stricken and anti-social classes, elements unable to provide for themselves, and the burden of which we are all forced to carry” -Margaret Sanger

“The most merciful thing that a large family does to one of its infant members is to kill it.”  -Margaret Sanger

“The purpose in promoting birth control was to create a race of thoroughbreds,” -Margaret Sanger

“More children from the fit, less from the unfit — that is the chief aim of birth control.”  -Margaret Sanger

“We do not want word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population”
-Margaret Sanger

“When motherhood becomes the fruit of a deep yearning, not the result of ignorance or accident, its children will become the foundation of a new race.” -Margaret Sanger

“The third group [of society] are those irresponsible and reckless ones having little regard for the consequences of their acts, or whose religious scruples prevent their exercising control over their numbers. Many of this group are diseased, feeble-minded, and are of the pauper element dependent upon the normal and fit members of society for their support. There is no doubt in the minds of all thinking people that the procreation of this group should be stopped.” -Margaret Sanger

Planned Parenthood, founded on the principles of eugenics, I hope you have a happy birthday with my tax dollars.

Definition of EUGENICS (per the Merrium-Webster Dictionary)

noun: a science that deals with the improvement (as by control of human mating) of hereditary qualities of a race or breed 

Check it out: how many lives does Planned Parenthood take in one year?

Motherhood Doesn't Equal Martyrdom

I mentioned the other day that I have only been getting 3-4 hours of sleep a night since my son was born. The response I heard was a smug "welcome to motherhood!" said as though it should be considered a great feat to survive being sleep deprived for months or years. Not only should I be proud of this fact, I understood, but I should consider it an honor to be a martyr for my family.

Motherhood apparently equals martyrdom.

Along that note, why is it that so many women use complaining as a way to brag? It's as though when one of us explains how tired she is, how many loads of laundry she had to do, or how long it takes her to grocery shop, she's really saying "look at me! I'm winning Good-Mommy points by not sleeping, doing laundry, and enduring long grocery trips with crying babies and big diaper bags!"

I think we do this because it's a way to cope. Sometimes, we're exhausted. Sometimes, we're sick of washing 6 loads of laundry in one day. Sometimes, we are frustrated by our grocery shopping trips taking 2 hours because our kids aren't cooperative and we have to not only push a cart and manage coupons, but we have to push kids around, keep everyone happy, and nurse the baby all at the same time we gather our food. Sometimes, there's no one to say to us "hey, you're doing okay," and we just want to quit. But since quitting isn't an option, we create the affirmation we need by taking the things that are difficult for us and telling ourselves that enduring these things is simply the initiation of motherhood, and we are good mommies because we are successfully managing (or surviving, if we're honest) these things.

Right?
The problem is that being exhausted doesn't make me a better mom. I'm tired. When I'm tired, I'm not as aware, not as effective in accomplishing things, and I'm not as nice as I should be. My tolerance for the toddler who is screaming because she wants Oatmeal Squares instead of Cheerios dwindles to the point where I yell at her...all because she doesn't want Oatmeal Squares. Really? Really.

What might make me a better mom is if I would take a nap or go to bed early when the opportunity arises instead of using that time to clean my house. We will survive a messy house and my toddler won't remember it being that way. She might remember a mommy who is mean to her though. And I don't want to be that mom. I don't want to be a "better" mom in someone's eyes because I'm only sleeping a few hours a day.

Please, if I tell you I am having a hard time, don't act like a good mother is a martyr. A good mother treats her kids right, and sometimes you need more than a few hours of sleep to do that. A good mother is better than a martyr mother, and the two aren't the same.

How to pump milk in the back of an ambulance

How to pump milk in the back of your ambulance when you have no electricity:

Step #1: Secure sheets in any way possible so as to cover all windows. This may include tying, wedging, and taping the sheets in place. Be sure to lock the doors before hanging your drapery.

Step #2: Avoiding the flies that are buzzing around (thanks to the windows that have been open all day since your air conditioning is broken), sit on the jump seat and lean forward.

Step #3: Envisioning flowing fountains, crying babies, and bottles of milk, try to get your milk to "let down" by doing short sqeeze-release motions.

Step #4: Be careful not to spill any milk as you hand express and swat at flies, grab a sheet as it falls down, and answer your radio all at the same time.

Step #5: Tilt your head backwards for a minute to relieve the cramp that has built up since you've been staring straight down for 7 minutes.

Step #6: Switch sides and start again.

Step #7: Carefully put away milk (20 minutes later) as your ambulance starts to move and shake out your hands that are now completely cramped up from the repetitive milking motion. Be glad you finished in time for the call.

Step #8: Make sure you are fully covered, then quickly take down the sheets, fold them back up, unlock the doors, put the pump away, plug back in the cardiac monitor that you had unplugged in an attempt to find an electricity source for your electric pump that you didn't get to use, and wipe away your sweat from the heat and tears from the back spasms (you have been leaning over for quite some time now). Do this all within one minute's time so you can climb between the seats to jump up front and tell your driver how to get where you're going.

Step #9: Smile and laugh as you realize how ridiculous but important of a task you just completed.

Step #10: Wait 2.5 hours and start again.

We Have the Flu--HELP!

We have the flu. Both babies and the mama...which blows my mind. My 100% breastfed baby is SICK and he's only 6-weeks-old?! How is this possible? LoveBug never got sick until she was exactly one-year-old. I guess it's really more of an intense upper respiratory infection plus a cough and low grade fever, but it makes you feel all achey and like a train hit you on top of the breathing problems.

Here's what I've got going so far:
*humidifier with white vinegar added
*big garlic oil supplements for mom
*organic immune boosting vitamin gummy bears for LoveBug
*Cold-Eeze every two hours for mom
*Lots of fluids and rest for everyone (try nursing with a stuffy nose--not easy)
*Vicks for everyone
*Tylenol as needed

I need some help here! What else can I do for my babies that is along the "natural" line of thinking? Please share your ideas and recipes. I'll be checking this post until we're better and will try everything I'm able to.
 Seriously, I already missed 11 hours of work because of this and am scheduled to work 8.5 hours tomorrow. :-\ I need all the help I can get with overcoming this super bug!

Hugs,
Rachel

My first day back at work

Here’s a riddle for you: what do Christmas trees, “Free Mamograms Today—no appointment necessary” signs, alien yard decorations, and beer all have in common? Answer: NASCAR.

NASCAR is a culture all of its own. For three days a year, four distinct groups of people come together for an event that gets crazier by the day. I call these groups The Paid People, The Whackers, The Spectators, and The Drivers. It is an event that reminds me to count intelligence as a blessing and that not everyone can make smart choices. It is an event that my children will never attend.

Day One: I sit in the pits all day, counting the various ways in which I can arrange my body in an ambulance seat. It’s my first day working and I miss my babies, but I’m grateful for the money and the chance to nap. I almost get run over while crossing the lot to go to the restroom by a few NASCAR drivers who apparently think it’s more important to go from the garage to the track at 40 mph than it is to preserve the life of the paramedic who might be saving their butt later in the day.

Day Two: I am stationed with a group of firefighters in the camp ground next to a food vendor who wants $7.00 for a cheese steak. I explain to my cohorts that I just had a baby and will need to pump milk every few hours, but that I’ll be fully covered so no one should feel awkward if they need to enter the camper. One of the female firefighters (missing a few teeth and still wearing her pajamas) says to me in an appalling tone “you’re baby is only 5-weeks-old and you left him to come up here?!” I want to tell her that, believe me, I’m still the better mother because she’s sitting there with a cigarette, swearing up and down in front of her 11-year-old scantily dressed daughter, and without having brushed her hair today…but instead, I shrug and tell her my family needs the money. I also mention that I want to be with my baby, would be if I could, miss him, and that he’s with his grandmother. I think about sticking out my tongue and saying “bet YOU wouldn’t bother to pump milk for your baby while working!”, but I just close the camper door behind me instead.

My only call of the day involves a 30-year-old who had a heart attack last year (needing two stents) and who is now having chest pain. He tells me he was “just smoking a cigarette” when the chest pain came on, and I ask him if he wants to die. He sheepishly replies “no,” and I inform him that he is now an ex-smoker then.

Day Three: I am stationed with a different fire department in a different area of the camping sections. From 6am-9am, things are pretty decent. I’m able to pump, eat breakfast, and even take a 30-minute nap. Then things start to roll and I find myself 2.5 hours late pumping. So instead of ensuring the future feeding of my son, I am transporting people who are in their 30’s but who don’t know that shouldn’t drink 12 beers, no water, and still expect to not get dehydrated after standing around in the sun for 5 hours. I remind myself to teach my son to be smarter than that.

So the working-pumping-motherhood adventures have begun again. Thankfully, God has worked miracles in my life and I will not be a full time working mom any more. *BIG happy smile* I resigned from my regular job and will instead be a paramedic two days a week, a music teacher (from my home) one day a week, and an online entrepreneur the rest of the time (just what that will be, I have yet to determine). Do I want to be with my babies all of the time? Absolutely! Am I glad, though, that I have the opportunity to make ends meet and help other people during their times of need (or stupidity, as today would have it) while I’m at it? Yes! Returning to work is never easy, but this time, I didn’t cry as I pumped my baby’s first bottle of milk. For all of these things, I am grateful.

Webcasting my birthing relay race

I know how much ya'll have been missing my insightful and addictingly interesting posts, so I thought I'd try to write something real quick to let you know what's been going on. :-)

I haven't been online in about 2 weeks and am only on now thanks to my parents' connection. Unfortunately, I don't ever get as much accomplished online as I'd like to when I'm at their house because my 19-month-old feels the need to be attached to me at all times. Not that I mind--goodness, I missed 9-13 hours a day of her life 5-6 days a week until I was taken off of work a month ago! On the other hand, having a dwarf holding both of your hands makes typing difficult.

So before I give the little update, I must apologize first to my readers (you are why I have a blog) and particularly those who are waiting for me to mail them prizes or to send their names on to companies for prizes. Secondly, I must offer an embarrassed apology to the companies who are patiently (and not so patiently) waiting for me to get their reviews and giveaways up. I'd love to tell you that a pregnant lady's life is predictable, but frankly, it's not and that's why I'm at home with a computer but no Internet. If you'd like to pay for me to have the Internet, I will happily write your post. Until then, I'm afraid you must keep waiting.

The Update

I am still pregnant, though my boy thinks he's not a part of me and continually tries to become un-attached whenever I walk. Part of me thinks I won't be giving birth until July 4th (he's due 6/30) simply because I was 11 (yes, ELEVEN) days overdue with LoveBug. The other part of me thinks I could have him tonight if I'd just take part in some roudy love making, eat mexican food, and walk half a mile. Only time will tell!

The delightful part of anticipating his birth is that we expect everything to take about 2 hours from the very first contraction...and our car ride is at least 30 minutes long. :-) I bought a nasal aspirator this week to keep in the car just in case. So here's my plan once that first pain hits my abdomen:

1) time two more contractions just to make sure it's the real thing.

2) call my husband and pray he's not out making a delivery in the next state (quite possible since he works for a restaurant supply company).

3) grab cloth diapers to throw into LoveBug's overnight bag while calling my mom so she can meet me at the hospital.

4) if I can drive, I load LoveBug and myself into the car (after grabbing everything else on my list of items I need to bring with me--the list is taped to our front door for easy access). If I cannot drive, I will call my dear friend and pray she isn't in a meeting at work so that she can drive us to the hospital. If my husband is close by, I will wait for him. Should I have to drive us alone, I will have my mom start towards me so that when I'm unable to continue driving, she can intercept us and bring us the rest of the way. Someone can just get our van later.

5) sit on a contractor type garbage bag and towel during the car ride. If I have to give birth on the side of the road, I will at least make it to the county line that puts me in "my" ambulance district. Not that I'm allowing any of my medic buddies to actually see me giving birth; I'll just be hollering to them to hand me stuff if I need it, and then let them take me to the hospital I was already headed to. I'm all about catching my own child, even if it is in a corn field.

TWO hours, folks. That's what I'm aiming for. Hopefully, when my child departs me, I'll be comfortable in a big tub of water in a beautiful birthing suite overlooking a lake and not in my car as I look at my daughter strapped in a car seat wondering what on earth is happening to her mother.

What do you say--should I webcast the whole event?