Elizabeth in her Never Crabby shirt

Shelly’s Peanut
Jen’s L #1
Jen’s L #2< Lori’s Macy
Staci’s Emma
Marie’s Marin
Tessie’s AD

Did I miss your girl? Sorry—tell me again and I’ll add her!

So—yesterday’s post. What I meant to do was vent a little about how hard it is to keep my mouth shut in situations where it would be stupid for me to talk. What I did instead was:

1. Imply that one of you wrote a blog post that pissed me off
2. and that probably you do that all the time
3. and that maybe all the other commenters don’t like you either.
4. Imply that I don’t think blogs should be about controversial topics
5. and that I think people shouldn’t discuss things unless they agree
6. and that what you wrote about _______ was way too controversial.
7. Imply that we should all go around kissing up to each other all the time
8. and no one should ever say anything that isn’t positive
9. and that we should all be icky-sweet and no one should say anything bitchy or strong.
10. Imply that all conflict is bad
11. and that pleasant, intellectual debate between consenting adults is also bad
12. and that in a perfect world, all of us would act and think identically.
13. Imply that I never give my 2 cents’ worth on other people’s blogs
14. and that my silence means I disagree
15. and I’m quietly thinking bad things about you but you’ll never know because I won’t say it.
16. Imply that I don’t want you to give your 2 cents’ worth on my blog
17. and that if you have in the past, you’ve totally hurt my feelings and pissed me off
18. and that if you do it ever again I won’t be your best friend anymore.

I is such a awesome communicator! I rocks!

I do often comment if I disagree with something, and I want you to comment even if you’re not saying, “You’re totally right! I totally agree! Also, I like your shoes!” I think we can disagree and still be friendly. Good thing, too, since there are SO MANY THINGS to disagree about! Including my shoes.

There are some topics, though, that I don’t want to talk about anymore, and that’s generally when I choose my voluntary dose of STFU. The blog setting wouldn’t be right for me anyway: I’m a person who typically leaves a comment and doesn’t come back to see who commented after me, so it’s not a good place for me to get involved in a heavy debate.

Also–and this is harder to describe–there are certain times when I can FEEL that my reaction is not good and that I shouldn’t talk, that it would not be RIGHT for me to talk. Do you know what I mean? Because I’ve spent about 24 hours trying to think of how to put it, and that’s the best I’ve got. It’s just a FEELING that tells me I should shut up.

But, silly dears, I was not talking about any of YOU. You are all sweeties, and I’m sure I agree with every word you say. Also, I like your shoes.

It is so difficult to voluntarily take a dose of STFU. In general, my feeling is that if I don’t like what I’m reading on a blog, I should stop reading the blog rather than repeatedly venting my dislike in the comment section. I’m not chained to my computer, eyelids pried open while someone else chooses my reading matter: if I don’t like it, I should go away. But oh, sometimes it is so difficult.

There are so many hot issues (religion! politics! parenting!), so many things that make me feel like fighting. I can tell they make other people feel like fighting, too, because of all the comment sections that boil up and over the edge. What’s amazing is that any of us get along at all.

I read awhile back that humans are naturally contentious–that if peace were handed to us on a platter, we wouldn’t be able to accept it even if we wanted to. Our natural state is to live together in communities, and to fight constantly within that community and also with other communities. My experience with human nature backs this up so far.

This is discouraging. I think I’ll take another dose.

So it sounds to me like we pretty much all agree that my OB is hoping to get another big fat c-section fee out of me by telling me I’m safe for at least 12 weeks. I got a prescription for the mini-pill, which I’m going to try. I say “try” because from what I’ve read, a lot of women find it gives them a fast flying kick into the land of crazy–but I’m hoping I luck out and it doesn’t happen to me. We’ll see. I like how I have to wait four weeks before it renders me safe–and the four weeks doesn’t start until I actually fill the prescription, which, who knows when I’ll get to the store next, or if I’ll remember to fill it while I’m there?

Researchers need to do better on this birth control thing. Right now there are four kinds:

1. Options used in the heat of the moment.
2. Options used constantly, medicating the woman even when there isn’t a need for it.
3. Options in which something that looks like a sharp metal insect takes up residence in the woman’s uterus.
4. Options in which someone gets a crucial reproductive organ snipped.

All the options suck. Heat-of-the-moment options are messy and yucky and can cause allergic reactions, and it is difficult to make sensible birth control decisions during the time they need to be made. Constant-medication options can affect a woman’s mood, weight, and–hello, helpful!–sex drive, not to mention the crazy gland. Metal-in-the-uterus options make me uncomfortable just thinking about them. Permanent options make me sad just thinking about them.

Obviously it would be nice if, for the hot new birth control option, men could take a turn dealing with the expense and side effects, but I understand researchers are FAR too busy working to increase men’s sex drive and hair growth.

Apparently there is a down side of coffee, which is that I am wide! awake! when I should be sleeping. It isn’t as if I drank a whole lot of coffee: I have a 4-cup coffee pot, and I made “3” cups, and the 3 is in quotes because what they call 3 cups will fill a mug once with a little warm-up-your-cup slosh (or, depending on the morning, a little evaporate-into-a-sizzling-stain-on-the-bottom-of-the-pot slosh) left over for later, and that’s it. And I am not talking about a huge mega-mug, I am talking about a normal, even SMALLISH mug.

Do I have a mother-in-law story to tell here? Why, yes I do! She likes to talk about how her late husband used to “fib” to the doctor about how much coffee he drank. “He’d say, ‘3 cups,’ and I’d say, ‘Those must be MIGHTY BIG CUPS!’ He was filling it to the 6-cup mark on our coffee maker every single day!” She tells this anecdote once per visit, but then refers to it again almost daily when she sees me making coffee: “I just keep thinking about Lloyd saying he only drank 3 cups! Ha ha ha.” She, of course, is not a coffee drinker. Never could stand the stuff. Never saw the point, either. Why not just go to bed at a decent hour? She just doesn’t understand it at all—never has. And the taste! My stars.

I had my OB appointment today. Did you know there could be a POP QUIZ on Kegels? With GRADES? It was like that nightmare where you realize you forgot to attend classes all year and now that you’ve found the classroom you have to take a test.

The OB says that if I’m breastfeeding exclusively, I’m fine without any birth control at all for at least 12 weeks. But I have five children already, and there is the question of whether I want to bet the farm on a claim made by a guy who earns his money on a per-pregnancy basis.

If you know of any greater pleasure than sitting alone in a quiet house with a pint of Dove “Vanilla with a Chocolate Soul” ice cream, reading blogs and finding pictures of Erin’s and Sam’s new babies (congratulations, Erin! congratulations, Sam!), knowing that both the new Harry Potter book AND the next disc of Angel are standing by for the next nursing session, then don’t tell me—my heart can’t take it.

My August copy of Jane magazine (which, by the way, I hear is the last: the magazine has gone under) arrived this weekend, and in it was this:

Is that a sign or what? Oh, well, yes, it’s literally a sign. But I mean, is it, you know, a chorus-of-angels type sign? Answer: no. But! A neat coincidence.

I am gradually becoming resigned to the idea that we will be trying the running program. I remind you all that I am almost certain to ditch it, possibly the very first week, so if you’re looking for a bellwether (that’s the lead sheep; also, a good book by Connie Willis) you’d be better off finding someone else. But if you want someone who did the absolute minimum required to pass gym and after every session got a bag each of Doritos and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups to restore precious, precious electrolytes, then join up with me, my friend! And lo, we will pant and curse together! And then partake of delicious restorative substances! And then quit! and hide the receipt for the running shoes! and partake of even more delicious restorative substances, now that our time is not being taken up by that pesky running program!

Speaking of delicious restorative substances, please note that there is NO DIET taking place at this time. I reserve the right to add one later if I start feeling all awesome, but “One horrible torture at a time,” that’s my philosophy. If I am running, I am also eating pints of Dove ice cream (also if I STOP running). The goal right now is only–ONLY–to get the buns off the recliner for a brief session per day. That’s IT. Then it’s back to the recliner.

I am drinking coffee again! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I was feeling so, so sleepy every day, and finally I got it together enough to get the coffee pot out. (I put it away when I got pregnant. Coffee makes me feel barfy when I’m pregnant, and “being pregnant” already makes me feel as much barfy as I want to feel.) I made some yesterday morning and felt good all day. I drank more this morning (note to self: teach children to make coffee and bring it to me in bed) and feel great again. Yay coffee!

Two questions I am not asking Paul this morning, because I don’t know how such a conversation would begin:

1) What were you planning to use for birth control, dumbass, if I hadn’t pushed you away? When people asked us if we “knew how this kept happening,” they were kidding–but now I’m wondering if I need to sit you down for The Talk.

2) Did you seriously think you were going to score in the middle of the night with a nursing mother? You’re lucky I didn’t leave for a hotel. And that all your parts are still attached.

I don’t know if it’s just my RSS thing or everybody’s, but this morning I thought I had 157 new posts to read when in fact there were about 6 and all the others were reposts. Eighteen of them were supposedly mine. Something is on the fritz.

Here is an idea I can get behind: caffeinated Jell-o shots. This leads me to wonder: could other things be caffeinated? Muffins, for example? I suppose it’s a little risky with non-liquid things: if the caffeine isn’t fully dissolved, one muffin could get a much-too-high dose. Actually, now that I think of it, the novelty value is the only good thing here: it would be way easier just to take the caffeine pill with a drink of water, instead of pulverizing it, dissolving it, and having to eat it in something. Still—it’s an appealing idea.

Speaking of–but not because of–caffeine, I was so wired last night. I’d be lying down feeling all buzzy and trapped and uncomfortable and eyelids-wide-open, so I’d get up and mess around for awhile but be too tired to focus on anything productive. So then I’d lie back down and hardly be able to BREATHE I was so oppressed by the sheets and the cats and the husband. Finally I tried going to sleep in the recliner and that did the trick, but then Henry woke me up early and I couldn’t go back to sleep because the mildew in the bathroom was so irritating to me I had to spritz the hell out of it with Tilex RIGHT! THIS! SECOND! Now everyone else is starting to wake up, just as I’m thinking it would be reeeeeeeeally nice to lie down and go back to sleep.

Those of you doing the Couch to 5K thing with me should check yesterday’s comment section for a couple of good ideas: one, to use a podcast specially designed for the program; and two, to sign up for an autumn 5K race as a motivator. My own good idea–not in the comments section but LIVE in this very post!–solves one of my biggest problems, which was: When do I DO this? I don’t want to run in the pitch dark, but I also would rather not leave Paul with all five kids the second he gets home from work. So here is my brilliant idea: I’m going to bring Rob and William with me. This plan:

• gives Paul time with just the twins (assuming Henry is either snoozing or doing his usual Fuss Time) without the older boys (or, um, ME) clamoring for his attention
• gets the older boys some badly-needed exercise, perhaps even tiring them out enough that dinner will not be the giddy ordeal it often is
• gives me some time with the older boys
• makes the whole thing seem like more of a fun project, because they don’t yet know that exercise sucks and they should hate it, and possibly I will catch some of their attitude
• makes it a little harder for me to fink out
• means I can fit exercise in where I would normally have to be taking care of children, rather than where I would normally be blogging or eating ice cream.

Hey, speaking of running, I have weak arches. When I stand, my feet are totally flat. No bounce. This gets me out of having to run, right?

Oh, wait….Are you actually taking me up on it? I was planning to just TALK about doing the Couch to 5K program, but then stay comfortably in my computer chair eating Raisinets until I gradually lost interest and forgot all about it. This reminds me of when I was talking with another mother about how we “should” try the Weight Watchers Core program, and she was like, “Great idea! Let’s start Monday!,” and then I was like, “Uhhhhhhhhhhh” with an alarmed facial expression and the intense look of someone who is about to take flight, or at least that’s what she told me later I looked like.

Well, fine. FINE. I remember with the Weight Watchers thing that after I got over my initial panic, I was glad to have had someone push me out of the plane like that. Let’s not start it this coming week, though; let’s start the week after. I need time to calm my inner deer; also, time to bitch and moan. July 29th, then: that’s the first day of the first week for anyone who wants to join in.

Do you have a photo of your dear girl in a Never Crabby shirt from The Children’s Place? Send me the link (swistle at gmail and then the dot com, or you can put the link in my comments section, or if you don’t have it posted you can email me the photo) and I’ll post a list. Here are two photos of Elizabeth modeling hers:

[Edited to add links to the posts I was updating, because that was getting confusing. Also to change the spelling of Raisinets, now that I have a bag to refer to.]

Henry is the first of my five children to not like the vibrating bouncy seat. The other four practically lived in it, and he’s all, “This is HELLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!”

Today is Day 17 of my mother-in-law failing to mention that she plans to visit us in October.

The comments you guys made on the wedding rant made me want to propose to each and every one of you. With so many of us awesome people being all rational about weddings, where do all those crazy people get their ideas? I suppose we’re all too polite to stomp them down.

And the baby names discussion in yesterday’s post is So! Much! Fun! I wanted to reply to ALL the comments with paragraph after paragraph after paragraph, but I think of the comments section as YOURS, and I didn’t want to hog it. Suffice it to say, that particular comments section is one of the best ever, and I think we should talk about baby names many more times in the future using some of those comments as starting points.

Thanks for all the answers to questions about chocolate-covered cherries, eight-year-olds and US Weekly, alcohol soreness, and men’s shorts.

• I contacted one of the 4-pound-box cherry places, but they say they don’t ship chocolate-covered products in the summer, which makes sense. She said to call in September. In the meantime, I’m going to check out the local health-food store, the Harry & David stuff at Target, and I’m also going to use Raisinets as a substitute.
• I told Rob that US Weekly was a magazine for grown-ups, and he didn’t persist, so I left it at that. If it comes up again, I’m going to use the idea about asking him what he likes about the magazine and going from there.
• I tried drinking tons of water and then drinking alcohol, because the dehydrated theory made the most sense to me. I still got all sore. Also, I don’t get much of a buzz: I get a funny feeling, and I wait for it to be over. My new theory is that for whatever reason, my body’s chemistry doesn’t respond to alcohol in the usual way. The upcoming mother-in-law visit makes me really, really, really wish this wasn’t the case. Luckily, my body over-responds to sugar, so I’ll just stock up on candy to hide in my room.
• I’m going to Target soon, maybe this evening or maybe this weekend, and I’m going to buy Paul a sampling of shorts to try.

Oh, and also thanks for the advice about getting Edward’s little paws off the DVD player! My favorite is the one about, you know, putting the DVD player out of reach. I, um, hadn’t thought of that. It goes under the TV! It can’t be MOVED!

It was good to hear I’m not the only one who dreads the 6-week mark. I shouldn’t have used the words “HAVE to”—Paul isn’t waiting there with a calendar and a mean look on his face. But when it’s been six weeks since the birth, and there was a time before the birth when nothing was happening either, I do feel like trying to see things from his point of view. Or TRYING to try—I’m not having much luck seeing it as anything except, “Oh my god, you are not seriously interested in that.”

I tried the Dove 2-in-1 Moisturizing Shampoo and Conditioner, and I really like it. It goes up there with my top three.

Did you notice that The Children’s Place has put their clearance down another notch? Last weekend I went to the physical store (as opposed to shopping online as I did the last time we talked about this) and got Elizabeth a pair of the funny wide-legged capris for this summer and another pair for next summer, a pair of really cool embellished shorts, and the two raglan shirts (one in pansy and one in bubble) that I almost bought online. I also bought Rob (because of handmedowns, I guess I should say “bought Rob and William and Edward and Henry”) a bunch of pairs of shorts. I would have bought way way more (I had a 20% off coupon to use, too), but there was very little left.

Hey, if I wanted to do the Couch to 5K running program, would anyone else want to do it with me? I like company, even if it’s only online. On the other hand, you’d have to be prepared that I might fink out on the second day. Seriously, maybe even the first day. I might never even get around to the first day. But if I DID—would you want to do it, too?