Beautiful Madhouse

Okay ladies and gentleman I know I fall victim to most of the things that I am listing below but I love making fun of myself and the hipster folk that surround me.  If you live in Williamsburg Brooklyn you know exactly what I am talking about.

1) You have named your child some ridiculous new age hippie dippy name and/or an old lady/old man name that you would imagine an 100-year-old senior citizen having.  Naming your child after a rock musician or an animal is also a huge part of  being hipster parents.  Hello Birdie & Hazel…..I certainly fall victim to this one. Crap.

2) Your and your kids wear matching American Apparel stretch pants.  (Yep done this one too.)  The  hipster family wears matching converse and/or Vans.  Dressing your child becomes an obsession to the hipster folk.  You definitely notice the competition on the playground catwalk. ”Oh, my kid’s clothes are all vintage…blah blah blah.” “Crew cuts had a sale.” “His neck bandana is soo…cute.”"Did you hear about the Petit Bateau sample sale?”

3) You talk about the local schooling choices all the fucking time.  You are always trying to find the most progressive education for your gifted little monster.  Don’t get me started on the whole G & T business.  Hipster drama people. For real.

4) Your kid has much better taste in music than the average joe.  The hipster baby grows up singing the lyrics to the Descendants and ACDC. I see a guy around the hood sporting a Minor Threat patch sewn onto his baby bjorn. Most hipster parents have brought their kids to more than a dozen concerts before the age of 2.  Welcome to the outdoor family concert hipster picnic.

5) You have a love/hate relationship with Yo Gabba Gabba.  You know all of the lyrics and are familiar with 99% of their special guests.  The show was made for you as much as it was made for your kids.  True story.

I am very far from an evil step-mother.  In fact I think I’m pretty awesome. You can ask my step-daughter Bella if you want. It’s hard for me to understand  step-parents that have issues and/or drama with the ex/biological parent.  I know some ex-partners are jerks but put your crap aside for the sake of you kid. Check your old relationship baggage at the door please. Right from the start Bella’s mother and I got along.  She loved her kid and I respected her role as the MOM.  That was it.  I love my step-daughter as if she were my own daughter but I leave the real parenting and decision-making to her parents.  She respects me as an adult that loves the shit out of her and wants her safe.  I give my opinion when asked but try not to cross any boundaries. I’m grateful and damn lucky to have Bella in my life.

I don’t run a daycare.  I’m not a nanny.  I am not a member of FLDS Church.  I didn’t have fertility treatments.  I know what birth control is and how to properly use it.  I’m not insane or mentally challenged.  I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent woman. I like and enjoy my life with all of my kids.  I might even want to have another baby at some point in the future.  I’m not a circus freak show. I’m just a woman who loves being a mom. Rant over.

It goes very quickly from a sweet nuzzle to a flying elbow in the jaw.  The baby cuddles are a very rare and special treat in this house.  Everyone is too damn busy to lay around cuddling.  I will catch Birdie & Hazel (3-year-old twins) holding hands or kissing each other occasionally.   They get shy in public sometimes and will stick together.  I love it that they seek comfort in one another.  If big sister Mia (6 years old) is around she will drape her arms over each little sister.  Oh and if biggest sister Bella (16-year-old) is around they follow her like she is the Pied Piper of Hamelin. And don’t you dare try to leave my house without giving Hazel a hug and kiss before you leave.  She throws a full on tantrum if you forget. Kid likes her kisses. My favorite type of cuddles are the baby cuddles.  My 11 month old twin boys are quickly leaving the baby phase.  Rocky is running.  Walking is for punks according to him.  His twin brother Lukey is very content on crawling for the time being.  That being said they are on the move and cuddling less and less these days.  For those of you who know me you may be surprised at all this gushy cuddly care bear hug crap.  I know, I know, Not very punk rock of me.  My kids have warmed my black cold heart and made me a rainbow riding butterfly catching sushine farting freak. Yep. it’s true.

This curse was passed along from my Grandmother Janet, to my father Steven, and then enthusiastically to me.  All I have to say is that my father is correct.  I will not list all of the things that I tortured my parents by doing. What’s the point?  My father didn’t share all the details of his youth gone wild days.  I know what I’m in for  and I accept my fate.  It still shocks the shit out of me that I have 6 kids.  Really?  I didn’t even like kids let alone want to have a half-dozen of them.  I believe I refered to them as whiny snot nosed brats.  Now they are MY whiny snot nosed brats.  It’s a game changer.  I wouldn’t trade any of my sunshine trolls for anything in the universe.  I think this whole family curse thing however has targeted me a bit unfairly.  I already admitted I was an asshole kid but twins twice???? Come on!  And they all exhibit similar personality traits of yours truly.  Topped with my husband’s irresistible charm it’s quite the mix.  So be careful if you decide to procreate and one of these nifty family curses are in place.  They can be a real doozy people!!!

When I got this belly script tattoo 8/9 years ago I had no idea that my tummy would be stretched and pulled beyond my wildest dreams.  This photo hides my stretch marks pretty damn well. Nice!  Let’s try not to focus on the fact that my belly button will not go back to being an innie ever again.  It has been popped out way too many times. Gross.  I got my Strength tattoo because at the time I was vulnerable and desperately searching for some strength. Little did I know at the time that all the strength that I would ever need was festering inside my magical uterus.  I picked the perfect spot for the word Strength. It was like marking the treasure spot with a big huge X.  The human body is absolutely fucking amazing.  My uterus carried two sets of twins and a singleton.  How’s that for some STRENGTH?!  I’m really the luckiest woman alive.

During your pregnancy you may have taken some childbirth classes and read all the books under the sun about pregnancy and birth.  Labor only lasts a day (or 3 for some) and then it’s over. Now that you have given birth to your baby (or babies) what the hell do you do now?  It’s very easy to get lost in the pregnancy and the idea of a baby.  The reality of having a baby is much different then the idea of one.  Nothing really can prepare you other than jumping right in.  When I meet with my doula clients we talk a lot about the birth plan and the pregnancy.  I also make it a point to talk about the first two weeks after the baby arrives.  People are often afraid to ask for help in those first few weeks.  Your friends and family want to help.  Take advantage.  They usually stop offering once the babies get a bit older and they start focusing more on their own lives than your new baby’s arrival.  Take advantage when the luster of a new baby is shining bright.  Let people wait on you hand and foot.  Staying in bed with your new bub helps to establish breastfeeding by lying skin to skin.  If  you are not breastfeeding this skin to skin contact is so important for bonding in those early days.  Eat tons of hearty simple foods.  Staying nourished so your body can heal is essential for getting those hormones back in check.

Here is some info from The Whole Life Nutrition Kitchen: