Dear Santa

I've been such a good girl this year.  I know it's been a tight year but it would be lovely if you could place the following items under my tree.
-a Keurig coffee machine so I can break my Starbucks habit
-a Starbucks card...who am I kidding. I'll still go by when I'm out
-an Otterbox for my SIII. 
-a new SIII since I cracked my screen and scratched the back of mine.
-or an iPhone 4s or 5 AND a LifeProof
-LOTS of diaper money.  Lots.
-more books, e or print. Specifically, the new Philippa Gregory, some more Octavia Bulter, or some Pearl S. Buck.
-world peace, says my altruistic side
-diamonds.

Love,

Gina

My little artist

Today was the second day of Christmas break. The natives have been restless as daddy had the car today. There has been a lotnof napping on my part due in part to my on again, off again headache. I've been productive, though. I planned Christmas dinner and wrote the grocery list.

The high point for sure was Side Salad's wonderful rendition of me.  His medium was marker on notebook paper.  I think it'slovely and I am currently using it as my Facebook profile pic.

I especially love the teeth and beauty mark. And rain. And grass.  And my kid.  He's great.

Turning 31

Today is my birthday. I am 31.  I have to say, 31 is far younger than it seemed when I was 21. I don't really feel older; I feel a little more awesome, to tell you the truth.But this birthday has been bittersweet. For one, the tragic school shooting in Connecticut is so gut wrenchingly horrendous it'smaking it hard for me to smile. Then a police chase ended tragically here, with far too many lives lost. I was in the ER when the familes arrived. The families' pain was palpable. So much unnecessary loss today.  It really puts life in perspective.

Why was I in the ER, you ask.  Well, in my old age I've managed to become clumsy. I fell and sprained both knees. Both.  I faceplanted on concrete in a parking lot.Technically, though, I didn't faceplant because my boobs prevented my face from hitting the ground. Yay for breastfeeding. But boo for ouchie knees and a hurty finger. To make matters worse, I got to the ER about 11:45 last night. I left at 10:56 this morning.

So with all this negative stuff you'd think my birthday was a bust. Nope. It's great!  I got a $50 Starbucks gift card (An early gift that I've managed to nearly deplete in a week.  I no longer sleep), oodles of hugs and kisses and cuddles from my hubby and babies, dozens of facebook messages and texts, a bottle of Moscato from my roadie Shelby , AND I won the Earth's Best giveaway at Mama on a Green Mission blog (I can't hyperlink on my phone so http://mamaonagreenmission.com/2012/11/we-have-a-teething-baby-tips-and-a-giveaway.html).&nbsp; So yay for birthdays.&nbsp; </p>
<p dir=ltr>Now I shall eat cake. <br>
</p>

8 months later

Popcorn is the most doing stuff-est baby ever. She crawls, rolls, coos,  kisses, blows raspberries, does algebra, cruises, eats mangoes,  stands, loves grits, claps, says mama, and charms everyone.

Well, maybe not the algebra but everything else is true.

She's still getting the good stuff but she eats a little, too. She could sleep all night if she wanted to, but why would she do that when she could play?

Oh,  and she has two teeth (one on the top and one on the bottom) giving her her a decidedly pumpkin-y smile.

Enjoy the pics! 

Rebuilding my stash

<p dir=ltr>First,&nbsp; my dryer belt popped.&nbsp; Then, we got it fixed. Then, the washer started to go.&nbsp; Then,&nbsp; the dryer belt popped again.</p>
<p dir=ltr>This is disastrous to a cloth diapering family.&nbsp;&nbsp; We washed when we could, but I didn't have a huge stash to begin with.&nbsp; We finally got a new washer and then, yesterday, we got the dryer fixed!

However, some of my dipes are destroyed beyond repair. Not all of them but a few of my faves are gone. I can't even bear to type their names. I'm heartbroken. And now,I need new dipes.   I mean Popcorn needs new dipes.  I've been eying some but due to some paycheck funny business, courtesy of my job, my bank account status has put the kibosh on my purchasing.

Soon, though...Fresh Oranges...bumGenius...

Any suggestions for my restashing effort?

As a side note, we are accepting cloth for Christmas, if yiu

Thoughts about birthing babies

<p dir=ltr>&lt;p dir=ltr&gt;I am blogging from outside of my husband's job.&amp;nbsp; They have come up with this wacky new policy that, since the new manager is a woman, someone must stay until she lives to escort her to her vehicle.&amp;nbsp; This does not please me, especially since they aren't keeping him on the clock.&nbsp; </p>
<p dir=ltr>That's another story.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Anywho, two of my internet friends gave birth on the first. I just realized that they both had their third babies.  One had her first girl after 2 boys and one had her first boy after 2 girls. Crazy, huh?
Anywho, I was thinking about how powerful labor is, how it imprints itself on your life, your psyche.

It's crazy to say but I kinda love labor. I love how raw and human and real it is. I love the dichotomy of weakness and power. I love the anticipationans excitement, the warping of time. I love to hear the stories of other women and to tell my own. 

And I especially love Popcorn's labor. I love how supported I was. There were no time limits, no interruptions. It was me, my body, and my midwives. I wish all my labors could have been so real. 

I hate that cultural made labor something to fear and to dread instead of something to respect and embrace. There's a chaotic beauty to it that so many women miss.