Hopping mad

This article makes me absolutely furious:

Waiting Too Long to Have Sex Linked to Sexual Dysfunction Later in Life, Study Says

It's a short article, go on and read it.

It says "People who lose their virginity between the ages of 21 to 23 are more likely to suffer sexual dysfunction problems later in life" and then goes on to cite vague information regarding men only.

Oh, and the men? Apparently, men who lost their virginity in their 20's were at a greater risk for sexual dysfunction...but, then it goes on to say that men who lost their virginity earlier were also at a greater risk for sexual dysfunction. Um, so basically, most men are at a great risk for sexual dysfunction?

And then, even worse is the contradictory article to which this article links. On the one hand, it says:

"Our results do not allow for causal interpretations."

And on the other hand, it says the study:

"lends credence to research showing that abstinence-only education may actually increase health risks."

Sounds to me like somebody has an agenda here.

"This study is interesting because it suggests that sexual experimentation is a normal developmental process, and when this process is inhibited or not guided, there can be poor sexual health outcomes."

Are they seriously suggesting that an era of high STD rates, HIV/AIDS, and abortions is sexually healthy?

I can't stomach Monty Python's The Meaning of Life, but that scene, the sex-education scene, comes to mind when I read that sexual experimentation needs to be guided.

And I'm supposed to raise decent human beings in this culture?

Spreading Christmas Cheer

Every Christmas, I try to buy presents for at least one stranger, and I try to include my kids in the selection and purchase. Some years, we just put a toy in one of the many Toys for Tots collection boxes, but most years we "adopt" someone whose information is hanging on a tree at church or at work. I really attempt to be as generous with the adopted family member as I am with my own children or husband. I assume that my present might be the sum total of what they get on Christmas Day, and it breaks my heart to think that someone who needs much might get very little.


One year, only a few days before Christmas, Bill noticed one angel left on the tree in the lobby at his office. He looked and saw that the recipient was a teenaged boy. It's fun to buy toys and games for little children, and their tags get picked up early. But older children and adults often get neglected. Everybody wants to play Santa for the young ones, but I guess they think it's not as important for those too old to "believe."


I think everybody deserves a little Christmas magic. Santa Claus is not a jolly old elf. He is a man, a holy and generous man made in the image and likeness of the Perfect Creator, and his spirit, the Christmas Spirit, though but a shadow of the Divinity, is at work whenever we take from our own bounty and deliver joy to those who have less.


My husband, much more tender-hearted than his acerbic wit might indicate, brought home the paper angel from the tree, and I shopped for the boy who might have been forgotten that Christmas.


After that year, I lean towards selecting an older child or an adult from the tree. Although it's nice for my kids to help select gifts for someone their own age, I really would worry about an older child being ignored. A young child may have many years left to believe in the magic. It is the older person who no longer believes in Santa Claus who is the most in need of convincing that he is alive and well.

"Fun" Christmas gifts?

A woman I know was one of 5 or 6 kids. Her parents used one of these for the family milk. It holds 5 gallons. A new one is cost prohibitive, but if I didn't have such a tiny kitchen, I would consider scouring the used market. Milk takes up so much room in my fridge.

My kids are big fans of straws. I have a few cleanable, reuseable ones, but they tend to get chewed up after a week of use. Plus, the Carnation Instant Breakfast I encourage the kids to use to make chocolate milk gunks them up. Instead of worrying about clean straws all the time, I just buy the cheap-o disposable ones. I think 100 straws cost $0.76.

For a while, we had one of these. Cute, retro-style...but I had to re-fill it every other day. I have 5 straw users here drinking several cups of whatever a day. Frequently, it would sit empty and the kids got their straws directly from the straw bag. I ditched the dispenser.

But, the cheap-o straws come in a cheap-o bag that splits open and won't actually hold the straws. Frequently we have straw disasters and piles to pick up. Unfortunately, yesterday, the party responsible for the disaster threw a fit at having to clean it up, and even after an act of mercy presented her with assistance, she was too far gone in tantrum mode to accept the help and threw the straws back on the ground. The straws sat on the kitchen floor. I was too busy with school to deal with the mess, and figured ten minutes would calm the perpetrator and cooperation would be more easily attained.

But then some nameless toddler took advantage of school time to hunt around the pantry and find a juice box (a rare treat). Unable to open it the proper way, he merely used his teeth to puncture the box. He then enjoyed his refreshment right over the pile of straws, covering them all with sticky juice. Lovely.

I think it's time for a new dispenser.

I found this one, which is pretty cheap. The big, fast-food types are 4 or 5 times this price (they hold more and will stand up to more abuse, I'm sure). But I was really attracted to the 12,500 straws for $27...that's 5 straws for a penny! So, at an estimated rate of 15 straws per day, the supply will last for well over two years.

Would it be too cruel to wrap the big box of straws and put it under the tree?

Life with a co-blogger

Bill: Are you going to blog about Spider-Pig?

Me: No.

Bill: Oh, good, I will.

Who are you...

...and what have you done with my sweet, cooperative two-year old?



My Petey used to give me hugs and kisses. When I ask you for a kiss, you say NO.



My Petey used to love to help clean up. When I suggest picking up toys, you say NO.



My Petey used to race to let the dog in or out of the house. When I ask you nicely to do this simple thing for me, you say NO.



My Petey used to go to bed or nap without too much complaint. When I tell you it's time to go, you run and hide. When I catch you and put you in your room, you throw a fit and won't stay in bed.



My Petey used to say please and thank you without prompting. When I gently remind you how to ask nicely, you stare at me defiantly.



My Petey used to move gently around the baby. When I ask you to stop climbing on the couch where I'm sitting with Mary, you start jumping harder.



My Petey used to follow cooperatively to different activities. But you have a repertoire of diversionary tactics I find hard to believe a mere two year old could conjure.



My Petey used to listen and obey when given a warning that his parents were wise to his intentions. But you feign innocence and claim to be "just walking" and not preparing to repeat improper behavior.



Who are you, little boy? Where is my Petey?

Behind the power curve

So many people are almost done with their Christmas shopping. I thought I was doing well, since I had done lots of internet window shopping, but I've only actually bought one thing: a balance bike for Pete (we actually didn't get a Skuut, we found a cheaper brand).

And I will buy a half dozen of these (here's the one from Kansas). I consider them to be educational. Of course, by December 26th, I will probably regret my decision to make my house sound like a bird sanctuary.

Moderation by extremes

I have four weeks to lose the ten pounds I plan to gain for Christmas. Yes, I suppose I could just eat a balanced diet with smaller portions throughout the next month and the Christmas season and avoid weight gain altogether. But I don't know how anyone could possibly adjust their diet to accommodate one glass of eggnog and three or four Christmas cookies unless you skip real meals and just eat the good stuff for a few days.

Even just this past holiday weekend where I never really overstuffed myself, I see the scales tipping precariously in the wrong direction. And so, despite the starving children throughout the world, I am going to retire the last few pieces of pie to the garbage can and begin a calorie awareness campaign here. It's not a diet. No, those are strict regimens where you only eat grapefruit...or on day 2 you eat cabbage soup and one baked potato...or you eliminate whole food groups. The only food group I plan to eliminate is the "Yummy" food group. If it tastes good, don't eat it.

It's only four weeks.

Now I'm off to see if the instant oatmeal with maple and brown sugar is too "Yummy" for the calorie awareness police.

Infant prodigy

From a kids' joke book:

What do you call the parents of an infant prodigy?

Highly imaginative people.


During this photo shoot, Mary giggled two or three times. I know that it wasn't deliberate I-think-this-is-funny giggling, but it certainly made us all laugh.

First the reaching-for-objects milestone from the other day, and now giggling. She's so advanced! For the record we have NO Baby Einstein products.





A rare shot of mother and child. My kids are now old enough to be trusted with a camera under direct adult supervision.

Experience

Baby Mary is now more than six weeks old. I really enjoy the newborn stage where their little bodies are still curled up from living in small spaces, and they blink back the light, and everyone needs to talk softly to give the baby time to adjust to the new world. But she's now entering the next stage where she wants to start experiencing her environment, safely from The Momma's arms, of course. And I love this stage too.

When my oldest began spending time awake, I remember asking myself, "What do I do with him?" He didn't want to eat, didn't want to sleep, didn't need a bath or a diaper change, he couldn't play with anything. He just wanted to stare at me and practice cooing. But parenting children over the age of 18 months teaches you the fine art of talking to yourself. I've had plenty of practice in that, and can now sit and stare back at my baby and babble away.

Last night I wanted to go to sleep, but Mary didn't. We lay on the bed, and I listened to her try to vocalize. I watched her kick her legs, not in a fussy way, but in a deliberate let-me-see-what-I-can-do sort of way. I watched her move her arms in the direction of my face, and I leaned in really close so she could reach me. And I watched the expression on her face change to one of obvious pleasure at her success. I had thought she was randomly moving her arms, but her happiness indicates that touching me was her goal.

This behavior - to reach out for an object - is one of those milestones that doctors use to gauge child development. I'm pretty sure she's "advanced" in this. But not only am I not going to start googling infant tennis camps for my daughter with superior hand-eye coordination, I'm not even going to bother to look up the average age where they do this. It's not that I don't care that she's progressing, it's that I don't need to compare.

With every child, I seem to be more relaxed and more appreciative of who they are as individuals. My husband's grandmother used to say that after three kids you got good, and it would be a pity to waste all that experience. She was right.

Happy Thanksgiving

Today's to-do list:

• bake pumpkin bread
• take a nap
• watch the Green Bay game
• enjoy food prepared by other people in someone else's house

I hope everyone has a good day.

Planning ahead

The Feast of St. Nicholas is coming soon - December 6th. My friend, Rachel May, (a 4 Real Learning Forum All-Star), sent me a link to Paidea Classics, a website run by an Orthodox homeschool family. She was buying Nativity Icon shrink art - an excellent gift to fill shoes or stockings. But she knew I would be especially eager to get these special coins.

Thanks, Rachel. And I can't wait to use that St. Nicholas Speculaas mold you gifted me last year.

And to Barbara, my lovely sister who will be here on the 6th, I'll order coins for your kiddos, too. And if I get two sets of the ornaments, each kid can make two.

Dessert for Breakfast

This stuff is really yummy.

Elfing away

I have no idea how to imbed this, but first I "elfed" the boys and then I "elfed" the girls, and all the little elves think it's hysterical.

Say what?

File this under Things I Never Thought I'd Hear Myself Saying:

No more broccoli until you eat your chicken nuggets!

A sane and simple Thanksgiving

Tune in tomorrow morning at 9:15 am EST to listen to Donna-Marie Cooper O'Boyle give some tips on making Thanksgiving an enjoyable day. You can listen to Ave Marie radio online real time, but if you miss it, there are audio archives!

My personal sane and simple Thanksgiving day plans? Herd six children across the street to my neighbor's house and let her feed us. I'm bringing pumpkin bread, which I'll probably bake today.

The only stressor is trying to make sure Bill sees the Green Bay game. I don't know if they have TV. Fortunately, that game is the early one, so, if necessary, he'll be "stuck" at home with the napping toddler while the kids and I socialize before dinner.

Simple enough, huh?

In defense of bottle feeding

Yes, that's right.

My previous post in which I defend my desire to breastfeed my child, I stated that I don't think the "issue" of bottle feeding versus breastfeeding is a moral one. I really don't think it should be an "issue" at all. In fact, I think the real issue is that it is an issue.

I think breastfeeding is the natural choice. I think it is the healthiest choice. I think it is worth the initial difficulties.

But I don't think we mothers need any more pressure.

I'm pro-homeschooling, but do not feel mothers who send their children to schools are bad mothers.

I'm pro-cloth diapering, but don't think mothers who use disposable ones are bad either. That's mainly because I use disposable diapers. Every so often I feel really guilty about that, but that is ridiculous.

I'm pro-daily family rosaries, but, again, I fall short of that ideal. Again, there is guilt. Again, I remind myself to be realistic.

Since that comment was left anonymously, I can not ascertain whether the author intended to pressure me into giving up breastfeeding. I like to assume, rather, that the intent was to ease any guilt I feel about giving my child a bottle. And I do feel guilt. And it is ridiculous.

Jill directed me to Danielle Bean's latest article at Inside Catholic which touches on the problem of how we women can help or hurt each other:

While it's true that no one can tear apart a vulnerable woman quite like another woman, it is equally true that no one can build up and encourage a vulnerable woman quite like another woman. We can't ever truly know another's plight and particular challenges. It's important to stand up for the truth, and there is a place for admonishing the sinner, but that never means using others' weaknesses and vulnerabilities to feed our own egos.

Ultimately, it really, truly doesn't matter how we feed our babies (or how they get their education, or if they wear cloth diapers, or if they say the rosary every day). What matters is that we love them and care for them and raise them to the best of our abilities.

As Danielle said: Let's encourage one another.

Grrrr.....

Congress to hold off on Iraq war money

And they wonder why service members and their dependants tend to vote Republican.

First, they fire civilian contractors. This means more work for soldiers who have to pick up the slack (because they can't fire the soldiers). Then they start shuffling money from different accounts to pay for things like soldier's pay and bullets and food.

So even though they're in the middle of repaving that road down the street from me, they take the money away, and the road sits, unpaved, waiting for funds.

And then swimming classes for my kids get canceled because they have no money to pay the instructors.

And then it takes a week or more for my leaky hot water heater to be fixed because they had to fire half the maintenance staff.

And then I have to wait three hours to get a prescription filled because there are fewer workers there.

Then they cut back hours on the grocery store, the PX and the Class VI.

And if things get really bad, they won't pay the soldiers. They won't fire them, no, they'll have to work on the promise of getting their money eventually. And they'll have no choice because it's illegal for them to not work. And they will get their money, eventually, but in the meantime, the grocery store, the PX and the Class VI won't provide you with your essentials on the promise of future payment. And if you happen to live off post, your landlord or your mortgage lender won't be too happy if you tell them that you're waiting for Congress to pay you.

So Congress doesn't end the war early, save anyone's life, or even ruffle any feathers in the executive branch at all. They'll say they support the troops and that they're doing this for them.

I guess you hurt most the ones you love.

My body, my choice

In the comment box:

Michelle, I'm sorry for your struggle with breastfeeding. I do, however, think that maybe you are putting too much emphasis on your own desire to nurse your baby, and not on the grace of having available a healthy alternative. It's not about you at this point and I think far too often we as mothers get hung up on doing what we want, at the expense of everything else. If your daughter is doing fine on formula, be grateful that there is formula out there that's good and beneficial. It's not so much how you feed your baby, but that you feed your baby, and that your baby thrives.

First of all, I am truly grateful that my baby is healthy and thriving on bottled supplement - both formula and expressed milk. I have often considered that if I were living on a rural farm a hundred years ago, my child would likely be dead or very sickly.

But gratitude for modern technology that gives me a breast pump, safe drinking water and high-tech baby formula does not change the fact that my body is not functioning as it should. It is normal to grieve over this handicap.

If I were in a terrible accident and lost half my leg, I would be grateful that I didn't lose my life, I would thank God for technology that would give me a good prosthetic, but it would be odd if I didn't miss my leg and wish to be whole. If this were my first child, if I had not successfully breastfed five children (four of them with little difficulty), perhaps it would not be as difficult. But knowing what my body was capable of doing, and not being able to do it now, is very frustrating.

Secondly, yes, I do have an intense desire to nurse my child. In the last 9 1/2 years, I have been breastfeeding a child all but 15 months broken up in brief pauses between weaning one and birthing another. It's a part of my life, it's a habit, it's what I'm used to doing, it's how I know how to take care of a baby. I can and will adapt as the situation demands, but I am reluctant to shrug a tried and true method at the first sign of trouble. I persevered through this exact situation with my fourth child, and by the time she was three months old the tears were long dried and the supplements long forgotten.

Ultimately, what needs to be discerned is God's will. Although I don't feel that bottle feeding or breastfeeding is a moral issue, I do think that since God gave me breasts designed to provide nourishment for my child, that it is natural for that to be my goal. Other mothers may happily choose to bottle feed, and I have no problem with that. I was a bottle fed baby, and I turned out just fine - healthy, intelligent and well-bonded with my mom. But I feel that breastfeeding is what God intended, and it's what I'd like to do.

Four years ago, when I struggled to feed Jenny, I wondered and prayed about whether or not it was God's will for me to bottle feed her instead. I honestly don't think He cared one way or the other. But I don't think, if He had to choose for me, that He would really pick a bottle over His own perfect design.

Sometimes when we suffer it is because we are choosing our desires over God's desires. But sometimes when we suffer it is merely because life is difficult. I don't believe that God is causing this suffering, nor do I believe that this suffering is because I'm being overly selfish. Many may say that the suffering is pointless, and that I should save myself all the grief. Others, especially those who know me well, may understand the grief that would attend my quitting.

Is it wrong for me to spend so much time nursing, pumping, going to the lactation consultant's office, and devising spreadsheets to track the baby's weight gain? Perhaps my family is not eating gourmet meals, the laundry is being done only on an as-needed basis, and schoolwork is a bit lighter than normal. This is life with any new baby. The only person, besides me, who is having a hard time, is my husband, who is foregoing schoolwork to do childcare. But he has chosen to support me in this, and I thank the Lord that his schedule, for once, permits him the leeway to be home more often to help me.

And the baby? She's fine. Here she is all snuggled on my lap as I type this blog post. I would never jeopardize her health for my own selfish desires. Breastfeeding is not more important than a healthy baby. But I don't think my breastfeeding and her health are mutually exclusive goals.

Gift Horse

When my friend from whom I order Mary Kay products includes a free sample of anti-cellulite moisturizer, is she trying to send me a message?

What I've really been up to

I realize that my blogging since the baby's birth has been...minimal. Even when I do post, it is a bit lacking in substance. Now that the relatives are gone, I'm back to my usual life: feed baby at breast, feed baby with a bottle, pump, change baby's diaper, repeat. Sometimes for variety I read out of a history book or do a math lesson.

If I'm not doing that, I'm off to the clinic or the LC's (lactation consultant) office. Mary is now 5 weeks old, and not yet back to her birth weight. I'm bottle-feeding her way more than I want to, but I realize it is important that she put on weight. Apparently, besides being too stressed out to produce enough milk, I am also too old and too tired and worn out. Naturally, I reject all those theories, but it sure makes life hard when, once again, an appointment with the LC fails to demonstrate that the baby is getting enough at the breast.

Whenever I read about the heroic deaths of the saints, whether a martyrdom or a slow, painful suffering from something like tuberculosis, I wonder if I could bear that cross with dignity and without complaint. I think the answer is no. Too often I hear myself saying, "I quit! It's too hard." The fact is, I have little patience for this whole process. I want a quick fix: more milk, better sucking, no effort - POOF!

I will admit to a certain level of enjoyment at the convenience of handing my husband the baby and a bottle and running out to the grocery store alone. But then I feel I have to sneak down the baby aisle and hide the container of formula under the other groceries. It's ridiculous, I know. But the whole breastfeeding/bottle feeding thing is very emotional for me.

I'll get through this. Deep down, I'm not ready to quit yet. But I pray for fortitude and patience. This isn't a noble or glorious suffering, like having the stigmata. But the pumping, the watching the clock, the recording of every wet diaper, and the trips to weigh the baby definitely qualify as a cross. I just need to offer it up.

Favorite pics

The cake

It's not the prettiest, but he did it himself (with some assistance). I especially like the red candies where the hands/feet/head were.

No, I did not ask him what he meant when he said he wanted it to look like God. Then he might have gotten his hopes up that I would be willing to alter the design.

No, I was not going to argue that if it looked like a Host it would look like God. He was getting a cross. Period. Such is the downside to having a sacrament or a birthday or some other special event when Mom's priority is a new baby.

Holy Communion, Batman!

Billy (to Fritz): You were right. The wine didn't taste so good. But the bread...that was good.

It's the Bread of Life, man.

I'm no Michelangelo

Billy was disappointed to learn that I, his uncreative and temporarily overwhelmed mother, was planning to use the same cross-shaped cake mold I used for Mary's Baptismal cake for his First Holy Communion cake tomorrow.

"But I wanted it to look like God," he wailed.

Um..............?

Going to the chapel...

Today: Mary's Baptism

Tomorrow: Billy's First Holy Communion

The ratio of adults to children is favorable (9 to 6). Should be a good weekend.

Perhaps blondes have more fun, but they get no respect

I was born blonde, but my hair is now a light-to-medium brown with natural highlights if I spend a lot of time in the sun.

My husband, though, apparently thinks that I'm still very blonde. Now, honestly, I'm a smart cookie, and my husband is a top admirer of my mental acuity. I will admit to having "blonde moments" wherein I suddenly forget how to read a map, or where I put the car keys, or the difference between a manatee and a cockatoo, but I think these times are fairly rare. There is no reason for anyone to expect me to not follow along in a conversation and understand what is being said.

So, in September, when Bill felt the need to define the acronym IPA, I was a little insulted. But then yesterday he was telling me a story about a sniper and blah blah blah blah. I'm really not going to repeat this story. I was listening, but this is not the type of story that civilians (including ME) really want to hear about, but since I'm married to an Army guy, I get to hear all the time. Suffice it to say that it includes DEATH in a violent manner. C'est la guerre.

OK. So, guns are involved, and my husband mentions that the sight wasn't zeroed. He then explains that this means that what the shooter would see in the sight is not where the bullet would actually go.

Really? Wow. Learn something new every day.

At least some anonymous internet quiz thinks I'm a genius.

I think I'll go back to coloring my hair. I may as well look the part. I'm just surprised he lets me educate his kids!

P.S. No offense meant to any smart blondies out there.

Snuggle Time with Grandma

Or: Why I'm Not Blogging Much This Week

Helping the families of deployed soldiers

Up over at G.I. June (Cleaver).

Thanks to Kristina for the idea.

Is it bedtime yet?

For the last three weeks I have been to the clinic here on post once or twice or three times each week for weight checks on the baby. On Friday, I drove 30 minutes to go to a highly recommended lactation consultant. I will need to go see her several times a week for the foreseeable future.

This morning I had to take my oldest son to the orthodontist for an emergency repair job on his braces. This afternoon I had to take the baby in again for a weight check. As I was leaving the doctor nagged reminded me that I need to take the baby to an area hospital for a hearing test. I have to get it done before she's 60 days old (she's 28 days old now).

It's just going to have to wait.

For a breastfeeding mom in need of relief for a stress headache, which is better: Tylenol or Advil? Or wine......?

I'm not the only one

"Thank you, Petey," I chirped to my little helper who all on his own found some trash and dutifully ran to throw it away.

"Tanks, Billy-Jenny-MOMMY," he responded.

It's okay. I know who I am.

I'll try to use smaller words

H/T: Nutmeg

Get a Cash Advance

New Month's Resolution for November

Once again, Sarah's post has reminded me that I did start doing new month's resolutions over a year ago, but another month has begun with me completely forgetting.

The past few weeks have been difficult...but more on that another time.

However, in light of how overwhelming life with a starving underweight newborn can be, my resolution (outside of feeding my child) must be very very simple.

There are some cute stores in the small downtown area near where I live, and they are all within walking distance of each other: a toy store, a book store, other specialty stores. One day this month, I will go shopping and see if I can cross some Christmas gifts off my list (hmm, maybe I'll need to write that list too?). I'll support the local merchants, and maybe find some things that my online shopping doesn't usually display.

And, I'll definitely be looking for a "Made in America" label.

The Feast of All Souls

Yesterday we honored all those saints in heaven praying for us.

Today we pray for those who have died (who have not been canonized) and ask for God's mercy on them.

I'm praying especially for:

Clyde and Nora M.
Michael and Johanna S.
Charles and Mary R.
William and Millicent E.
Viola T.
Ernie and Phyllis M.
Father De
Father M
COL Kelly

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord.
And may perpetual light shine upon them.
May the souls of the faithfully departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.
Amen.

Add the names of those you are remembering today in the comments, and I will include them in my prayers as well.