About Me

The Writing Mother

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Red Writing Hood...
The Suicide of Reason in Canada
Pajamas Media
Call me crazy ...
30 Hours in 30 Days
Third Wave Feminism
I'm angry.
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Monday, July 31, 2006
Like they are shutting off the taps...
I think I'm due in three days.

I am drinking milk like they are shutting off the taps tomorrow. Or like we're running out of cows...

Consequently, I'm also peeing like it is going out of style. I mean FIVE times a night people!

I've also had periodic contractions, nothing painful, but definitely a step up from braxton hicks contractions.

Will keep you posted lovely internets. For now I'm going to bed!
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 11:00 PM

Saturday, July 29, 2006
Post 298
Wow, this is post two hundred and ninety eight. I have to come up with something to do with post three hundred.

And there is no way in hellll that I'm going to do a "300 things about me post" because I'm just not that witty.

Touring the blog-o-sphere today, I discovered that *gasp* there are some nasty people out there! I'm astounded in a very naive and blinkity-blink way that people put SO MUCH effort into being nasty.

Now take Dooce for example. I happen to enjoy her blog quite a bit. She's in your face, she's honest and she's quite raw. But it's pretty refreshing in this bloggy world where you are never sure if someone's life is as perfect as they claim. But the other day I discovered Discussing Dooce. Which should really be called something like Dissing Dooce because that's all this person does. There's no 'discussing' at all, since she deletes any comment post that points out the obvious fact that she appears to be a nasty cow. I linked to her... go ahead, take a gander and try and post a comment like "you have too much time on your hands"... it'll get deleted. The only comments are allowed are ones such as "omg, you are TOTALLY right, that Dooce chick is a nasty cow"... and why is DD so mad? Apparently if you email Heather (Dooce) ... SHE DOESN'T RESPOND. Like, OMG.

I've seen a lot of nasty blogger wars... dude, the Infertility bloggers and the Pregnancy bloggers can toss around some nastiness, let me tell ya. And oh my goodness the political blogs ... well that's to be expected.

I have started to either mellow or grow or SOMETHING... but I can't seem to get caught up in the drama any more.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 10:57 PM

Friday, July 28, 2006
Just drivin' around
Yesterday we drove to the three hospitals in our city that I might deliver the baby in. Because Major Man is relatively new to the city, he doesn't have that inate knowledge of the roads as I do. I've been here for almost 20 years. Because we are with midwives, when the time comes to push this baby out, the midwife will phone to the different hospitals to see who has the most availablity. Unfortunately the one closest to us is the busiest, so we will likely have a 20 minute drive at least to get to the other two.

As we were driving, we passed some youths at the side of the road waving flags and brandishing a sign... because I wasn't driving, I was able to gawk at them (I'm ususally the driver). They had a "Honk to end the war in Lebanon" sign and a U.N. flag, and a Lebanese flag.

One glared at me... we didn't honk, and we have both a Canadian and an American flag on our truck.

Major Man chuckled, "I didn't hear any honks."

"No," I replied, "not only is this city full of Americans, but they are standing at the entrance to the largest Jewish community in this city to boot."

Their faces were covered. As if they didn't know which community was directly behind them. By the time we drove back, they were gone. Peaceful protests never last long.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 11:03 AM

Friday, July 21, 2006
It was just... one of those days...
I'm sure I've mentioned, but up here in 'Canadia' (as Major Man fondly calls it... and by fondly I mean very sarcastically) we don't all have air conditioning. Usually there's a few days in a few weeks in a few months that we can use it. So it's not found everywhere... in fact, the only person I know who has it is my mother and that's because my grandmother lived with her for a while and old people and heat don't mix.

So it's been hot here... somewhere in the 30s... which translates to about 90 ... or so Yahoo Weather tells me..

This means I'm slightly cranky because I have three weeks of pregnancy left... and my son is cranky because his mother just does NOT want to go out in the heat... not that marinating in the mugginess of my house is that much better, but I have writing deadlines... this leads to some serious butting of heads.

Actually, most of the day was ok... it just got a little touchy around 3pm when the heat had reached maximum irritation level, I was sweating in places I prefer not to discuss and my son was sweaty-headed and wanted only to eat popsicles.

We had three threats of time outs, one that needed to be enforced. Four quite impressive meltdowns and one early bed time. It took him over two hours to fall asleep, all the while he happily played in bed in the coolness of his bedroom. The bedrooms are all in the basement, thank goodness - if I had to put up with this heat at night I'd go crazy.

Please let tomorrow stay just a little bit cooler... please let the weatherman be wrong about that 90+ high... I may have to go live in the mall for the day.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 10:49 PM

Thursday, July 20, 2006
Their your pipes and you should know what goes on there...
Oh my... listen... if you have reproductive organs, you should know EXACTLY what they do.

You'd think that someone on CNN would be kinda smart (stop laughing)...

Cohen: "These are four-day old embryos. We’re talking about very tiny, tiny embryos."
Costello: "And they’re not fertilized either, right?"
Cohen: "Well no, an embryo is fertilized."
Costello: "Just to make it clear–"
Cohen: "Its sperm and egg have met each other–"
Costello: "So, it is?"
Cohen: "–and they, they’ve grown for about four days. So, they’ve formed a very, very small embryo."
Costello: "Ok, so I feel silly now."

If you have parts - know what they do. Please.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 9:15 PM

CBC has some photos up of the evacuation process taking place in Lebanon. The news is full of reports of 25,000 Canadians, 25,000 Americans, 20,000 French, 20,000 Iraqi... I guess I must be dumb, but I don't understand why there are so many foreign nationals there...


The Canadian military is sending about 70 personnel to Cyprus to help evacuate stranded Canadians from Lebanon and has put two Halifax-based navy ships on standby to leave on 48 hours' notice.

... good.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 5:16 PM

Have you ever known someone who just kept making the same mistakes over and over again? Someone whose head you want to shake and tell them to smarten up?

I'm sure I was that person at one point, and because of that I think I see it it others. In fact, I once had my palm read and the lady laughed at me and said that I will likely have a long life because we are all here until we learn our lessons and it looks like it takes me several tries to learn my lessons. I'm much wiser now - if I do say so myself - than I was ten years ago... but then again, aren't we all?

Actually, I think there are many who aren't. There are several people who Just Don't Get It. A popular avenue to repeat mistakes in is relationships. You know, the girl or guy who just seems to want a good partner, but makes their choices so poorly that you can identify a trainwreck months before it happens.

For example, let me introduce you to Cassa... I think I've read her blog for a year and a half. I almost can't look away because she reminds me of the me that made bad decisions. The me that wanted to meet someone wonderful but couldn't get past my own issues to really get to know a guy. About every other blog post I want to hug her and shake the crap out of her at the same time.

I have another friend who is in an abusive relationship and just had a baby with her boyfriend, thinking that would solve it. It doesn't matter what I've said, she gets suckered back in because he keeps promising to 'change'. But her self esteem is so low that she won't ever leave I'm afraid.

There are plenty of trainwrecks out there. I hope that I'm not one of them ever again, lol... I've started to try and steer clear of them because reading about their problems again and again... always with the same angst-filled confusion is getting too repetitious for me.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 8:38 AM

Tuesday, July 18, 2006
I overthink life's problems... so that's what I was doing at 3 AM...
You Are Kermit

Hi, ho! Lovable and friendly, you get along well with everyone you know.
You're a big thinker, and sometimes you over think life's problems.
Don't worry - everyone know's it's not easy being green.
Just remember, time's fun when you're having flies!
The Muppet Personality Test
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 10:15 AM

Thursday, July 13, 2006
Only Socialists have ideas this dumb
This one's for Major Man, who would agree with the title of the piece completely.

Still reeling from Canada's mad cow disease, the last thing Manitoba cattle producers need is another tax to pay. But in his infinite wisdom, Premier Gary Doer has done just that -- announcing earlier this year a $2 tax on every head of cattle sold by producers...

A cow tax? What purpose does this serve? They have taken a floundering industry in Manitoba, created a governmental branch (complete with staff and salaries) and now they are going to tax the producers to pay for it?

  The Writing Mother
  posted at 10:50 AM

All Camo, all the time...

We headed out to the Calgary Stampede for the day and found M's most favourite place to be... on the army vehicles. Which he calls "the army vehicles". His most favourite one was the tank, but that line up was a little too long for one certain pregnant mom having random Braxton Hicks contractions. And besides, Major Man assured me that it was a 1980's German Tank so it was crap. Good to know our Canadian troops are driving crap. We don't have the Gajillions that the Americans do... personally I've heard from Canadian soldiers that this makes them better soldiers because they don't rely on the technology.

Anyways... my son loves him some army stuff. He also liked the CF-18 jet they had there, but was unable to sit in it, so it was deemed not as cool.

I sent some photos to a friend of mine, a New Hampshire democrat. I sent these photos as well as one of my belly. I didn't notice but I was wearing my favourite camo top from Garage. He asked if it was common for us Canadians to be wearing so much camoflage.

There was a funny little contest going on between the Air Force guys and the Army guys... they were handing out these little rubber bracelets with their logo on them, making sure that if they saw a kid with the 'other guy's' bracelet then they'd load him up with theirs... not that M minded, he's all about getting stuff ... as you can see he's got a poppy tattoo on his arm.

Do Americans not know what the Poppy is about? I didn't ever consider the poppy a solely Canadian institution. I suppose it is... Major Man knows what it's about now, but The Other American formerly known as The Rude American seemed confused.

The democrat thinks I may be brainwashing my child. I countered that if he had kids they'd be Hillary-lovers so what's the dif? He had to agree.

  The Writing Mother
  posted at 10:27 AM

Monday, July 10, 2006
Four weeks to go...
I think I may be the bawlingest bawl baby of the pregnant world. I can just cry at anything these days.

My son has decided today that he wants to be a pilot. Air Force to be specific. So we spent some time this morning at the US Air Force site watching video footage of some very cool planes. Then he decided he should watch Top Gun.

Ok, I'm all good so far.

Until we get to that ejection scene where Goose dies. Yeah, I've watched this movie how many times since it came out? Many. Let's just say that.

I STILL cried. I had to leave the room so my son wouldn't see me crying.

Four weeks to go...
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 11:10 AM

Sunday, July 09, 2006
What a difference five years can make...
Exactly five years ago I was attending childbirth classes with my exhusband. Well, he wasn't an ex yet... in fact we were still practically newlyweds. I was completely enthralled with this baby I was soon to bear. Slightly less enthralled with the husband. I can remember very little about the day and a half of classes other than he did not want to be there and was making it known in every passive aggressive way he knew. I remember crying at lunch because we were fighting.

But, we had The Most Amazing Childbirth Educator - Kathy. She was so wonderful. Enthusiastic, funny, charismatic and so very knowledgeable. The words she said came back so many times during my labour that I credit her for having the most empowering birth experience ever. Of course she'd just credit me back for doing "the most womanly" thing in the world.

Because of her, I am pursuing my childbirth educator's certificate. Because of her, my life changed.

As I mentioned, on Friday - exactly five years to the weekend - there I sat, waiting outside the childbirth classes with my new and wonderful husband. (And one of my best friends, who is due just two days before me but will probably give birth a couple weeks before ...)

And who should walk in but... The Most Amazing Childbirth Educator!

She remembered my name, as we'd seen each other a couple of times since then. And although she's not allowed to give me her phone number, she told me where I could get it.

Sitting through the classes, I could not help but consider the changes that have happened in the past five years. It was impossible not to compare the classes - not the information, but my reaction to it. So confirming and empowering. Giving birth is what my body was designed to do, but that doesn't make it easy. It's a marathon. It's the most difficult thing that any woman can do. And I can do it.

I sat next to Major Man and wondered at how my life had changed. I have very rarely compared my first husband with my current husband - it's not healthy in any way, shape or form. But again, it was impossible.

He was amazing. He listened, he considered, he took the information in. He actually READ the handouts that were for him. He listened to me. He practiced the massage techniques. He made sure *I* listened and practiced and took it seriously. I think much of it was outside of his comfort zone, but I think he took it seriously. I was so very proud. This birth will be difficult on him. He's a very capable man. Not being able to 'fix' or take away my pain may be difficult for him. He may become frustrated and I may have to help him through this.

But if I can give birth, I can truly do anything.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 8:31 AM

Friday, July 07, 2006
Check out The Writing Mother
I posted on my 'other' blog about maintaining integrity when writing. Check it out.

  The Writing Mother
  posted at 11:55 AM

Wednesday, July 05, 2006
The Belly & the Dragonfly
Got my belly henna'd by a wonderful lady at www.dragon-fly-designs.ca. And my son got a little dragonfly to match my little dragonfly... he was not very happy that his was 'different' than mine, but once I explained that his was a boy dragonfly and mine was a girl dragonfly he was much happier. The henna should last 1 - 3 weeks... and yes, I'm flashing people in the grocery store. What else would you expect?

  The Writing Mother
  posted at 9:25 PM

Monday, July 03, 2006
Too many! Too many!
I'd love to go outside, but there are so many FREAKING mosquitoes that we are swarmed by them if we even think of venturing off of the house-to-truck path. I was outside for much of yesterday (and the day before, actually) and my arms are so covered in bites that a blind person could likely read a novel along just my right forearm.

Many months waiting for summer... and now all I seem to do is stare balefully out the window at the day.

FYI ... pictures of the henna'd belly coming soon!
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 12:01 PM

Saturday, July 01, 2006
Growing Up
Do you ever get the feeling like you are finally a grown up? This morning I have been grumping around the house, stomping and frowning and huffing... for no real reason other than I'm in A Bad Mood. No one else is even up.

I'm tired.

I'm pregnant.

I'm worried about a decision I'm making.

And all the while I'm surfing the web and answering emails and I'm realizing suddenly that I'm quite grumpy while answering these emails. I've written not one, not two, but THREE emails that I've trashed after I wrote them.

Suddenly I wonder, does this mean that I'm a grown up now? Because I know when to shut my mouth?
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 9:20 AM

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