Posted by hippiehousewife on November 9, 2008 · 5 Comments
Hush little baby, don’t say a word,
Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird.
Last night as I was laying in bed beside my little boy putting him to sleep, he snuggled up against me and put his arm around me, resting his tiny hand on my back. I think I melted. It got me thinking back over the months of co-sleeping – months of little fingers grasping mine, months of warm snuggles, months of peaceful sleeps and easy wake-ups.
If that mocking bird don’t sing,
Momma’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.
It also got me thinking back to how our co-sleeping began. We hadn’t planned to co-sleep, not really, but we knew we wanted our baby close in those first few months. He had a bassinet right next to our bed. He slept in it at night and during the occasional nap – the rest of his naps he slept either on my lap or snuggled close in a baby carrier (usually a wrap back in those days).
If that diamond ring turns brass,
Momma’s gonna buy you a looking glass.
This worked for a while. We were extremely spoiled with a baby who slept six hours straight each night by the time he was a week old, and slept ten hour stretches by the time he was a month old. Like I said, extremely spoiled. But he started making up for it when he turned 3 months old (as those early sleeping babies are prone to do), waking up first once each night, then twice, then more and more until he was up nearly every.single.hour for a stretch of I-was-too-tired-to-remember-how-many weeks.
If that looking glass gets broke,
Momma’s gonna buy you a billy goat.
Exhaustion. At first I kept up the whole bassinet thing. He’d wake up for food, I’d sit up and feed him, try not to fall asleep, change his diaper, and put him back to sleep in the bassinet. Repeat as many times as he woke up in a night.
If that billy goat won’t pull,
Momma’s gonna buy you a cart and bull.
One night it was same as usual – he woke up, I fed him. Suddenly, I don’t know how much later, I snapped awake in a full-out panic and realized I had no idea where my baby was, had no memory of putting him back to sleep, the light was still on, and oh-my-goodness where was he and was he okay and how could I do such a thing? I frantically searched the bed and the floor. Finally I noticed him sound asleep in his bassinet – apparently I had put him back to sleep after all, despite having no memory of it and having fallen back asleep with the light on.
If that cart and bull turns over,
Momma’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover.
From that night on, he slept with us. When he woke up, I’d latch him on and we’d both lie there peacefully until we fell asleep again. He didn’t start consistently sleeping through the night again until he was a year old, but co-sleeping made it so much more bearable. We both got more sleep because of it. But more than that, there’s just something so sweet and so natural and so right about having your children tucked up beside you while you sleep at night. Now that we do it, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
If that dog named Rover won’t bark,
Momma’s gonna buy you a horse and cart.
We still nurse to sleep most nights, but we’ve had a few nights lately where he’s fallen asleep with me kneeling down beside the bed and singing to him instead. He even has his favourite songs already. He’ll point at my mouth when he wants me to start singing. If it’s not the song he wants, he’ll cover my mouth with his hand until I stop, then point at it again for a new song. When I finally start singing the song he wants, he breaks out into a big grin and lets out one of his adorable little maniacal giggles that I love so much.
And if that horse and cart fall down,
You’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town.
Much to my chagrin, he has decided that his favourite song is Hush Little Baby. While I am pleased to have finally memorized the lyrics to this song (I used to always get confused somewhere around the looking glass breaking), it’s never been one of my favourites. I mean, what a materialistic song! I most certainly will not buy him all of those things! I think I should rewrite it, sing him my own version.
Hush Little Baby, don’t you cry,
Momma’s gonna sing you a lullaby.
When your blue eyes start to close,
Momma’s gonna kiss you on your nose.
When you wake all bleary-eyed,
Momma’s gonna be right at your side.
When the laundry must be done,
Momma’s gonna let you in on all the fun…
And so on and so forth. Brilliant, no?
Posted by hippiehousewife on September 4, 2008 · 6 Comments
First they came up with a chicken pox vaccine.
This, as anyone with an ounce of common sense should have been able to forsee, led to an increase in adult shingles.
So what did they do?
They came up with a shingles vaccine too.
It’s sheer profit brilliance.
(Oh, but it’s not about the money. Really.)
Oh yes, and did you hear? There has been an increase in measles outbreaks recently. Measles are, after all, a “potentially deadly disease”. Darn those religious homeschooled non-vaxers.
A few years from now, they’ll be writing the exact same article, only about chicken pox instead of measles. Forget normal childhood illness (with lasting immunity, unlike the chicken pox vaccine’s immunity). No, no, chicken pox is a “potentially deadly disease”. Beware!
Posted by hippiehousewife on September 2, 2007 · Leave a Comment
The other day I picked up a spray bottle from the Dollar Store, mixed together 1 cup water and 1 cup vinegar, and cleaned my bathroom.
It’s not much, but it’s a start. When I was done, I was able to go pick up my son without worrying about my hands being covered in chemicals. The house didn’t smell like harsh cleaners. I wasn’t worried about what my family was inhaling.
Baby steps.
I’ve also been faithfully going to the organic farmers market every Saturday to pick up meat and produce for the week.
This week marked a milestone – it was the first week that I didn’t need to make a second trip to the grocery store to pick up additional groceries that I couldn’t get at the farmers market.
When I first started buying more organic and less processed foods, it seemed horribly expensive at first. But now that we’ve been doing it for about a month, I find that I’m actually spending less on groceries. I think mainly this is due to less trips to the grocery store, where all sorts of extra foods always mysteriously make their way into the shopping cart. Now, if I have to go, I go only to pick up a few very specific things. Our meals seem more well-rounded and definitely healthier now.
My fridge and freezer are satisfyingly full. We have fish, chicken, and beef. We have potatoes, lettuce, cucumbers. We have strawberries, blackberries, blueberries. We have eggs, cheese, and orange juice. (We also have milk, but it is admittingly not organic. I just can’t bring myself to pay the same amount for 1L of organic milk as I would normally pay for 4L or non-organic milk. I just can’t.)
What more could we need?
Tonight I’m making a salmon and fruit salad. Grilled salmon served on top of lettuce, cucumbers, strawberries, mandarine orange slices and a sprinkle of blueberries. Perfect for a gloriously warm Labour Day weekend.
Last night I made banana bread. Yum.
The night before, we had soft tacos for dinner. We made our own soft taco shells. They tasted so good, much better than store bought ones.
So that’s our progress so far. They may just be baby steps, but they’re still steps forward.
Posted by hippiehousewife on August 23, 2007 · Leave a Comment
The more I learn about the world, the more I find myself saying I don’t wanna.
I don’t wanna do what I’m told.
I don’t wanna do it just because it’s normal.
I don’t wanna do it just because it’s expected.
I don’t wanna do it just because it’s mainstream.
I don’t wanna.
The more I learn about the world, the more I find myself noticing. Considering. Thinking. Deciding. Changing. Leaving the mainstream behind.
Countless unconscious decisions I once took for granted are now becoming conscious choices.
Maybe this is called growing up? (Except that I don’t see most people doing it!)
I don’t want to fill my house with chemicals just because P&G wants me to. I don’t want to eat food filled with crap just because it’s what the nearest grocery store sells. I don’t want to take every medicine known to man for every little sniffle just because the drug company needs to up their profit. I don’t want to give birth to a drugged-up baby just because the nurses tell me to have an epidural. I don’t want to pump my kid full of toxins just because the doctor says he should be vaccinated. I don’t want to leave my baby to cry it out just because society says he needs to learn to be independent. I don’t want to send him off to public school in a few years just because it’s normal.
And on and on and on and on.
So this is me, finally stepping up and saying, “Hey world! I don’t want to do it just because it’s mainstream!”