Karin Mitchell's books on Goodreads
Between Families Between Families
reviews: 5
ratings: 8 (avg rating 4.75)

Sunday, March 28, 2010

More Fun than a Barrel of Monkeys

I'm reading all these books on pregnancy and babies and I have to say the writing is just awful. Half of them spend so much time telling you what they're going to tell you and why they're going to tell you that I'm ready to shake them by the throat and say "Spit that shit out, already!!!" So my skimming skills are in use to say the least.

This morning I read a couple hundred pages (see skimming) of a book on the Bradley method, a natural childbirth method. I might add, that I have not found the Bradley method yet. So far its just info on getting pregnant and the structure of the body. Which is where I get into the terms they use. They call it the "vaginal barrel." They have a diagram of 2 different "vaginal barrels." One is engorged (excited about welcoming a certain type of guest.) The other is regular styles. I think the engorged one should be referred to as a "vaginal barrel of monkeys."

barrel of monkeys

It also mentions that if there is no climax that the "vaginal barrel of monkeys" can remain in a state of "general crabbiness," as a result. Nobody wants a crabby vaginal barrel of monkeys.

The book also talks about a "birth climax." Basically saying many women have an orgasm at the end of child birth. Do any of you know about this? Is this a real thing? Anyone had one? I simply must know.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Motorcycle Lessons Over 60

My mom got in a motorcycle accident. She was driving. Taking lessons.

My mom married this really awesome man. She talked him into doing all kinds of things for himself that he never would have before knowing her.

When they met, for example, he drove an old sedan and started it with a wrench and because he's that mechanical type, he could've kept it running forever. And he would have. Even if he had the money. I'm not sure he believed he deserved nice things. But she talked him into buying himself a really nice truck.

She also talked him into buying himself a really nice Harley. He'd always wanted one. And they went for rides quite a bit. They loved it.

But then this awesome man died. And every time my mom thought about selling the Harley, she cried. Finally she sold the truck instead. And with the money, she bought a sidecar for the Harley in order to be able to drive it herself.

So she was taking lessons. But she's over 60. Learning the balance, and habits necessary isn't the easiest then. So yesterday she crashed. Left in an ambulance. She was joking and nice with her black and blue face and broken arm. Left arm.

Until... they said they'd have to cut off her wedding ring. She lost it. And flat out refused. She iced and worked it off her hand, because she was far too afraid to cut through the inscription on the wedding ring of her dead husband.

It makes me all teary eyed. I can imagine my mom beginning to heave in an ambulance about her wedding ring and all it represents. You can't cut through that. She's already been cut in half just by losing him. You just can't. They had a beautiful love and I'm glad at least that symbol of it got to stay whole. Even if her arm didn't. Even if it put a little crack in her resolve.

So I hope she heals her broken places inside and out and gets right back on that motorcycle.

(I should also mention that her plan is to put her 3 legged golden retriever in the sidecar when she's driving around. She's got someone working on developing a harness to seatbelt him in.)

Friday, March 12, 2010

Friday Quotes!

""I told Hannah that she could watch a movie after I stopped being deranged and she started crying because that was going to take too long and the movie is only a one week rental"

"Daddy, why is there a hippie van at Starbucks?"
"I guess some hippies want coffee."
She laughs, "Hippies don't drink coffee!"

""Mutha Earth is sick of my sass" reads "motherfucker sucks my ass" if you squint your eyes and know you're on Karin's Facebook page."

"Sorry, I won't interrupt you while you're talking to yourself again."
"Thank you."

"I don't think you should be traveling cross country when you are 9 months pregnant (and your vagina is large enough for a minivan to drive through without even touching the sides)"

Friday, March 5, 2010

Calling the police

I'm mildly freaking out. I'm not really the call-the-police-on-people type. But my neighbors just keep having these awful fights. I hear them yelling, well mostly her yelling. Then there are these awful banging noises. And I don't know if they're throwing shit against the walls or each other around or what.

I just get so anxious every time they do it. My hear trate skyrockets every time. It makes me shake a little. I can't sleep for worrying.

The last time was very early in the morning. Maybe around 5 am. From my bedroom (which shares no walls with their home, I might add,) I heard what I would swear was a person falling down a flight of stairs. I went next door and knocked on their door. No answer. But I could hear voices.

So I left. They were clearly both ok. The problem is I work for social services. And exposure to DV is child abuse in this state. And they have 2 little kids. And I just think, if I'm shaking because you're banging something against the walls so hard my pictures are shaking, what must their kids feel like?

But still. We share walls. Its a duplex. Its not like they won't know who called. And we have to continue to share walls. They seem like otherwise nice folks. And I hate to think of the police hassling them. But I also hate to think that they're fighting like this and what if someone gets really hurt. Or what if one of them is already victimized and needs some help righting things/getting out/getting help.

Oh and the baby's going to be sharing walls with them too. My baby, I mean. I'd appreciate if they could cut this shit out in time for me to have a baby sleeping that could be woken by the banging of its crib against the walls.

DJ Pregnant-C

My husband has taken to calling me DJ Pregnant-C.

I think it is perfectly reasonable for me to respond by calling him V.I. Penis.

P.S. I'm pregnant (for anyone who didn't already know.) 13 weeks that is. Which should explain why the blog's been a little quieter and more seriouser lately. I was kind scared about the whole thing and well, just not ready to tell. But now we're all clear.

So there's good things and bad things:
  • My boobs are HUGE! Like 2 sizes bigger. They bounce now. And touch. Its wild. I don't appreciate it when I'm skiing. But the rest of the time I like it.
  • I spent about 8 weeks sick to my stomach almost constantly. That is fucking clown shoes.
  • I saw the baby's heartbeat. Its amazing. It didn't even look like a baby the first time I saw its little heart blurp on the monitor. Now it looks like a baby. A fuzzy, gray, TV baby, but a baby. I thought I lost an ultrasound picture for a while there, (which in all honesty could just as easily have been a picture of a patella, but you're just supposed to keep them and put them in baby books and sleep with them under your pillow for the tooth fairy or something so I felt pretty shitty,) but I found it.
  • The farting is out of control. V.I. Penis is now referring to me as the "largest gas producer in the house." We have a boxer dog. Horrible.
  • Every time I turn around, I read some other fucked up thing that can happen to you when you're pregnant. For example: your vag stretching and getting huge, random hairs growing on your face and body, losing the ability to hold your pee after giving birth (forever,) discoloration on your face that may or may not go away, hair loss. Need I go on? I need to stop reading so much. You won't hear me say that often.
I kept reading that you shouldn't start trying to have another baby if you weren't over your miscarriage, but I have to say, being pregnant does help. For me anyway, I wanted to be a mom, to raise a child. I wanted to teach my kids how to ski and read fun children's books with shim and go to the zoo and whatnot. It really wasn't about that specific pregnancy for me, but more a desire to be a parent. So, that desire being renewed really does help. I'm able to be happy and excited about people's kids and talking about clients' pregnancies in a way that I couldn't enjoy before. And it makes me sad that I missed out on those feelings for so many months. But mostly I'm glad to be working toward what I want and connecting better with people again.