For the second day in a row, I ended up throwing up my breakfast. I can't figure out why, yesterday I had Cheerios and banana, today I had raisin bran (superstitiously- wondering if having Cheerios again would provoke a repeat). Jeff is giving my body little pep talks, telling it it is pregnant, not bulimic. Apparently, it's confused. The only thing I can think of is, maybe my light box is somehow triggering this? I use it while I eat breakfast- I don't know what the connection would be, but I can't come up with anything else. I have to remember that two days in a row might be a coincidence, not a pattern.

I can definitely tell that the light is working. I feel a bit more energetic, I don't have the urge to nap every day at 3 (although the urge to nap at 10- in my business class- is unchanged), I actually sat down and played playdoh with Gabe and Eva yesterday. I can't remember the last time I sat down and played something kind of messy with them. We have a lot of physical games we play, but nothing arty, which is sad. Allie loves to paint and sculpt and draw- and that's fine, because I don't have to sit and watch to make sure she doesn't paint the walls or eat the playdoh. So I've been lazy with Gabe and Eva because I haven't felt up to watchdogging the process, and I didn't want to end up with blue walls (I already have a pink one, thanks to Eva and Crayola sidewalk chalk).

So much needs to be done to our house- maintenance and renovation. Obviously we don't want to put tons of money into a house that's worth $5K, but it would be nice to repaint the kitchen and living room, and replace the surface of the deck. I just don't know when we'd find the time.

Better Late...

As promised, some very early pictures of my littlest ones (in more than one way), two years ago. Happy birthday to them! Eva in the NICU (that's my hand)

Gabe in the NICU

Here they are now. Yesterday night they both sang along with Irish Blessing at the gathering. Hard to believe.

I just realized that I shouldn't be here. I'm sitting at the computer station reserved for scanner use, and I have not scanned one single thing in the hour that I've been sitting here. And I used to get pissed off that people wouldn't read signs when I worked in retail! I've just been bitten by the hypocrite bug!

I'm struggling with school still- registration is in two weeks, so I have to decide on classes pretty quick. And I have to decide whether I want to drag my pregnant self out of the house every day in April, or if I want to compromise and take less-than-stellar online courses. I also need to decide if I want to get an acoustic guitar and take a class to learn to play it (I have an electric, but the class teaches acoustic only). Anyone know of a used lefty acoustic for sale? I could restring a righty, a la Jimi, but as Jeff pointed out, that means my pick guard is in the wrong place. Hmm.

I think I don't want to be a midwife today. I think my temperament is just way better suited to being a doula. Unless we move to The Farm, in which case I may reconsider. I just read Spiritual Midwifery again, and am amazed that modern medicine (as is its usual custom in all things) has so persistently tried to treat birth and pregnancy as purely physical states. That is probably my biggest criticism of our culture's birth practices right now. I'll have to go more into that later, because it's time for class, again.

A quick warning: tomorrow is Gabe and Eva's 2nd birthday, so I'll be posting a birthday picture of them then and now. Some people (me before they were born emphatically included) are really disturbed/upset by pictures of small preemies, so I wanted to prepare y'all.

Why I am not allowed to take care of myself

I finally started using my light box this week. I'm supposed to start around the end of September, mid-October at the latest. Whoops. So now I'm impatient for it to work (i.e. remove my narcolepsy), and I keep forgetting that before I get to "OK" I have to slog back up through the ground I lost by waiting a month and a half too long.

In response to the comment I got two posts ago about winter and depression: yes, I want to eat and eat and eat. And sit at home on the couch, dozing on and off, with the TV on to something mindless while my servants bring me Cheetos and Coke. Ah. I feel lucky, in a completely ungrateful way, that I have a PE class this semester, so that I have GPA pressure to motivate me to work out (if it was for my own good, well...see post title). We don't have cable (gasp! yes, we're taking donations right now! kidding), so I'm stuck with network, but I'm oddly comforted by PBS. I'm a sucker for period dramas and anything with Abraham Lincoln. Speaking of which, tonight is the second episode of Regency House Party, which I'm ashamed to admit, I'm kind of taken by.

I'm still thinking about where my life is going from here. I think it's an artificially imposed decision (good question, Rachel- and thanks, both Rachels), but at the same time, it isn't. If I was planning on becoming a midwife, for instance, I'm in the wrong school. Most CPMs, if they go to school, go to a three-year midwifery course (two years study, one year supervised practice) and then take an apprenticeship. CNMs are different, of course- a BA or MA in nursing plus three years of obstetrical specialization. But they practice in hospitals, and I'm really convinced that I don't want to be part of imposing hospital routine and procedure. I just think I'm too emotionally tied to birth to be a good hospital midwife- if I was just doula-ing, I would be able to grieve with a mom about an unwanted procedure, whereas I think as a CNM, my first priority would have to be keeping everyone safe, and preserving the emotional distance needed to make good, objective decisions.

So here's the rub. Part of me feels like getting an education might be wasted money and effort. If I'm honest, that feeling probably comes from the idea that I enjoy school, therefore it can't be good for me. Something like that. Or I'm going to school mainly out of pleasure-seeking, and I don't deserve pleasure, therefore I must stop. I have a really hard time believing the things that come out of my brain sometimes when I stop and look at them. Despite having a very egalitarian marriage, I still try to stuff myself into the subservient-female role sometimes (and I hope some of you are laughing, because if there's one role I don't fit, it's that one). I don't know why. I suppose that is just the part of evangelicalism I absorbed best- my role as a wife and mother, quietly and steadfastly supporting my intrepid husband as he makes his way through the dark and dangerous world. Yeesh. Yeah, it still doesn't fit.

So I sit here and second- and third-guess myself about my place in the world, but in the meantime, school is fun (for the most part). I just wish that didn't make me feel guilty.