peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

Birth stories (La La La). I’m not listening.

Not because I don’t like pain and contractions and epidurals.

I just don’t want to hear about YOUR labor story or HER labor story. At least, not so much.

I mean, you probably don’t want to hear about MY labor story, right?

It’s like this. You get a group of women together and when one starts talking about HER labor story, the others want to jump in and share their stories. When I was in labor…

“I was 6 centimeters dialated.”

“I had a water birth.”

“I only pushed twice.”

Blah, blah, blah. Then suddenly, everyone is talking at once. And no one is listening to anyone. And then women start trying to top each other with who has the most impressive-scary-wild-amazing birth story.

You nod. You gasp. You sympathize. You oohh and you ahhh. Because, like, that’s what you’re supposed to do when chatting about labor with fellow mothers.

But do you really care about the other woman’s story? No, I didn’t think so. Deep down, you want to tell YOUR story.

So here goes Pippi’s birthing and labor stories in the off-chance you want to hear:

1. First baby. Was induced. In labor for 20 hours. Had a midwife. No epidural. Wanted one at the last minute, but it was too late. Pushed for 30 minutes. Learned true meaning of “ring of fire.” Baby arrived healthy. Whew.
2. Second baby. Was induced. Had Mexican food the night before. Mistake. In labor for 14 hours. No epidural. Umbilical cord wrapped around baby’s neck; the nurse told me to to lie down, with minimal movement, for the remainder. Doctor was on her way…running late. The nurse asked me if I could hold the baby in. Are you kidding me?? Pushed for 15 minutes. Baby arrived healthy, despite the cord. Whew.
3. Third baby. Was induced. In labor for 13 hours. No epidural. It was approaching midnight. Tried so hard not to have an April Fool’s baby. Pushed for five minutes. Baby arrived healthy three minutes after midnight…on April 2. Whew.

Post a comment with your labor story. I would just LOVE to hear it.

Read other great blog posts at this link. Tell ‘em Pippi sent you.

Babies in flower pots? Yeah, I love those. I wish I had taken pictures of my babies in flower pots. Or in pumpkins. Or in tea cups. Or in pea pods.

Seriously. These photos are adorable! And they show how tiny babies start out in life.

It’s a little late now… My baby is now kinda big. He turns 13 today. And has surpassed me at 5’10″.

But no regrets. I’m so proud to see what a nice young man he has become–after starting out, well, the size of a pea.

I look forward to watching him continue to grow and thrive.

By now you’ve heard that January Jones of Mad Men fame has been eating her placenta (she gave birth to her baby and the infamous placenta last fall).

I couldn’t resist Googling placenta recipes. I was curious if you add it to stir-fry, bake it, freeze it, or add it to chocolate-chip cookies.

You might be surprised at how many recipes there are. Let’s see, I found roast placenta, placenta cocktail, placenta lasagna, placenta spaghetti Bolognese.

It seems like the most popular way is to dehydrate your placenta (think beef jerky). Turns out that the placenta is packed with vitamins and some believe that the placenta can be used to help in the early stages of postpartum depression.

Placenta. It’s what’s for dinner.

I made three babies. And I have had five unexpected body changes as a result:

1. Bigger feet. Yep, they grew a half a size. Time to go shoe shopping!
2. Belly roll. Gotta tuck it into my jeans.
3. Jaw that clicks. Giving birth to one of my children resulted in my jaw clicking and popping. Permanently.
4. Breasts. Breasts permanently increased a full cup size. Woohoo! But now they require a fork lift.
5. Heart bursting with love. Enough said.

Change is good.

I remember thinking awhile back: Crap, that birds-and-the-bees talk is gonna be a tough one.

Well, for us–and most parents–it’s not just one talk. It shouldn’t be just one. It’s part of everyday conversations. It’s a part of LIFE.

• We go to the zoo. Bam. The chimpanzees are humping. Right in front of us. And there’s the mandrill male with the red butt, that apparently is used to woo the ladies.
• A robin’s egg dropped in our back yard last Spring. We left it untouched so that Mama bird would come back and get it. She never did.
• My daughter’s hamster–seemingly so innocent and furry–had the most gigantic balls. You couldn’t help but look. Hamster : balls ratio = wow!

A friend of mine recently gave birth. On the way to school, we were planning our after-school visit to visit her and her newborn. Here is how the conversation went

6yo Son: “Mom, do babies come out of butts?”

Me: “No, honey, they come out of women’s vaginas.”

6yo Son: “Eeewww.”

This prompted a conversation about all kinds of mothers. Monkeys. Elephants. Dolphins. Dogs. Whales. Humans. And the miracle of birth. And kind of how it all works. At a basic level.

By the time we got to school, we had covered a lot of ground about birth and life and the miracles that babies are.

And as my kids were yelling, “Good-bye!” and  “I love you!”…they left the car knowing that they are miracles.

And that, my friend, is a good, positive, and loving message to leave your children with.