Monthly Archives: April 2008

correction. am a dork.

Hi, I totally misquoted Rusted Root, I discovered today. And not just in the middle of a wordy post all hidden and hunkered down hoping you wouldn’t notice. No, it was right in the title. It was the title. If you see Rusted Root, will you please tell them that “lick from the wounds” is a way better lyric than “leap from the wounds”?

Sigh. I hate when I mistake lyrics and think mine are better. I have other examples but I can’t grab them just now. They are swimming in a puddle of tired monkey brain. Bedtime now plz? KTHXBAI.

Advertisements

april, rain(n)

it’s nearly the end of april
rain keeps calling: dig deep,
go within, and rediscover
that serpent coiled and sleeping
too soundly, a knot
at the base of my spine.

it’s got me on a kick
painting in binary code
blasting tori, screaming
all off key and laughing

(the names of our daughters
are pins in a map
to find this:

who are we now?

motherswomen)

where is my sex, in
banshee wails and curtains
of rain and the temperature
in wild flux?
cocooning in quilts that
smell of the dog and
baby’s bath and
our last sweat?

is it there, bled out of me
with the moon and just too tired?
or leaking out slowly with
a mother’s tears and milk?

are you there, still, in the painting of red and blue? these colors

you used to show me in tantric visions
when i was a gateway and
atheist lips called me goddess
while strong hands washed my feet

snakes used to writhe so hard they stung and bit
and now their slumber is a lullaby
of heartbeats and exhausted sighs
did we lull it to sleep
with our familiarity?

have i known you too long?
(and now you’ve seen inside me)
and emptied of secrets
and wearied of shared worries
can we find the madness
that pulled us in to it?

can we spark and spin
and wake the snakes wound
tight in sleep inside us?
can some art or artifice reimagine
and rework the passion
and heat that slumbers?

can i build new secrets
to draw you back
and shimmer again like
a careless thing still
smoking and glowing
in the shadows?

can you cry out
and wake it and can i
let go what sent the thing to
sleep and just watch

the fires rise again and twist?

More Kundalini musing…still blogging for RAINN, still chasing my tail, still writing poems about snakes and moons. (Morrison… Doors… Blake…) I invoked William Blake in ritual when we were calling our ancestors. Seemed strange to never have thought of calling to him in circle. Wonder what his mystic Christian soul thought of this, a funky witch in fake ivy and nose ring invoking his presence all uninvited?

________________

This post is a celebration of the Sexography project in support of RAINN– the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network. RAINN provides information, education, outreach and other services. Among its programs, created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. Please consider a donation to RAINN. If you donate, please mention the Daisybones blog and note “GBBMC:08″ in the “donation in honor of” section (in addition to anyone you want to honor, including yourself.) This will allow project-related donations to be tracked, and every donation sent from my blog will be (to me) regarded as honoring my mother and all others who were kept silent. Thank you.

quick breastfeeding postling

Bones was notable for me last night, not only because the episode touched on the “Third World, USA” nature of the WV economy, but because there was a baby and much matter-of-fact talk of breastfeeding. I was amused. Booth was squirmy.

The state of my* boobs at the moment is still the same- the only nursing going on is the early morning wake-ups. There has been a progression, however, to more active weaning on my part. The Birdy spent Friday night and Saturday evening at the grandies’ and Saturday night nursed all night, although she did go to sleep with storybooks. She has been asking to nurse, but has been easy to distract and hasn’t fully cried for it. If she were the slightest bit more upset about it I don’t think I could refuse her. I made the decision that if she gets needy enough that I feel like an asshole for not nursing, I’ll nurse her. I’m happy with the idea of her self-weaning (which it is now clear isn’t really happening) and after the annoyed feeling I had with the Saturday marathon, I’m still hoping for gentle weaning. I just don’t have it in me to forcibly wean her, though. Feels wrong. Right now, I’m happy with where we are. Her Papaw and I talked about how she is such a big girl until she’s sleepy, and how it’s very appropriate that in her “baby hours” she is nursing, and in her “big girl hours” she isn’t.

My favorite part of this whole thing is the bedtime routine. We went from an hour or two of switching between nursing, reading, and fussing and insisting “Up!” several times to 10 or 15 minutes of snuggling and reading, and then she asks for lights out and I spoon around her little cuddly self and she goes right to sleep. It’s crazy awesome.

*Only she reminds me now they aren’t mine. This morning I thought I’d try to put her off when she asked for num-a-num, and she cried “Mine! Mine!” So yeah… not self-weaning, but not really resisting the pattern of no nursing during the day and at bedtime.

let me take a lesbian moment

…and tell you who is so smoking hot. Tina Fey is. And Gillian Anderson, zOMG she is in Maxim* and it is So. Damn. Yummy. And so is Maggie and Olivia Wilde and Jewel Staite and Brooke Wassername from Idol. These are my current girl crushes, just so we’re current. And Alyson Hannigan, you know, she’s up there with Mags. Love.

My current and persistent heterosexual relationship (hi, we call that a marriage in the nice, simple real world outside my head) does not sully my lovely balanced Kinsey scale rating because my fantasies are so queer. I like that Dr. Kinsey realized that our fantasies and such are an important part of the holistic picture of our sexuality. Good on him.

And her is a LOLMaggie, which is a thing I invented just now:


* How many post-‘s do I need if I say I’m the kind of feminist who really likes Maxim?

(OK, so if the les-bi-rifficness is all too much for you, I made a very cute mommy blog post at Wabi Sabi Mamas today, and you can listen to my very first podcast there too if you like.)

_________________

This post is a celebration of the Sexography project in support of RAINN– the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network. RAINN provides information, education, outreach and other services. Among its programs, created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. Please consider a donation to RAINN. If you donate, please mention the Daisybones blog and note “GBBMC:08″ in the “donation in honor of” section (in addition to anyone you want to honor, including yourself.) This will allow project-related donations to be tracked, and every donation sent from my blog will be (to me) regarded as honoring my mother and all others who were kept silent. Thank you.

(Yeah, I totally thought it was over, but turns out it’s not yet. So go donate and read the other amazing posts.)

puddle of melted mommy

OhMahGoddess look what I found:

So, now that I have looked at this and made googley eyes at it and did not burst into tears, we know that I am definitely OK with weaning:) Seriously, if there were any doubts I would have just died. It does sorta make me have new baby lust. But only a little. Look how Tiny Newborn Bird is almost crushed under Giant Mommy Boob Which is Packin’ Lots of Reglan Assisted Milk Supply. And look how she really did have mommy-like hair for a week or so:) Look how great her latch is with her poor ittle freshly-clipped tongue.

timing

Bird: *tweaks my nipple* Heheheeee!
Daisymama: No! No pinching.
Bird: Num-a-num! Heheheheheeee!
Daisymama: Wanna nursey?
Bird: *looks at me as if I’ve just stepped out of a spaceship* Hehehee, no…
Daisymama: Hmm. Is Boo suddenly too grown up for nummies?
Bird: *emphatic nod* Uh- HUH! Wah-yee?
Daisymama: Okaaaaay… *hands Bird sippy*

The thing with timing is…

Mid-August 2005, we decided we would start trying to conceive in nine or ten months. September 5? Pregnant. Start musing that I’ll think about starting to maybe try to wean after age two. Age 23 months? Sixth bedtime without nursing, second or, no… third day in a row with only early morning sleep-nursing.

It’s sudden, and I am caught off guard, but I have had the easiest, most fun and playful week with her since she was a quiet nine-hours-of-sleep-at-a-stretch six month old. What makes me sad is I don’t have a breathtaking serious nursing portrait. What I do have captures the reality though, with the quickly snapped, laughing candid photos and the hilarious ones of her trying to tear off my face. It’s a little sad that it’s starting to look like I’ll be half sleeping through our last breastfeedings. (Although it is amazing how adorable a nursing child is at 3:30 a.m. when that’s the only time she wants to nurse.)

I’m just sort of surprised with myself. I feel so happy and at peace with this, assuming it really is a weaning experience. And it makes me feel really confident that I’m going with my gut. Even breaking my own rule by a month maybe! Certainly violating the sacred dogma of the hardest hardcore boob nazis. And I’m OK with it all, even the good-natured ribbing at work from coworkers who zOMG at me about weaning before kindergarten/middle school/college:)

It’s really just… OK. Wow.

a list of aesthetic sins, in my worldview

  • Neatly trimmed forsythia bushes. They should be wild and wavy.
  • P0rn star pubic hair grooming. For similar reasons.
  • Stripey highlights
  • Fake flowers
  • Patterned, ornate silverware. I like simple and heavy flatwear.
  • Papyrus, Comic Sans, and Monotype Corsiva
  • Men’s T-shirts on my body
  • Tapered leg pants
  • Mullets
  • Military hair cuts
  • American Flags. Most flags, actually.
  • Pierced ears on small babies
  • Those dumb ass girly baby headbands that look like cheesy cheap wedding garter belts
  • Bubble gum pink
  • Vinyl siding
  • Fake wood paneling
  • Fake wood anything
  • The panties I’m wearing
  • Tribal tattoos that don’t mean anything
  • Most tattoos chosen from flash tacked to the walls of the shop
  • Red hair with my complexion, but I didn’t used to get that
  • Chain link fences
  • White picket fences
  • White boring walls in my house
  • Caucasian Jesus
  • Geometric, flat color minimalism
  • These goddamn orange fucking dots.