Placenta

When I was pregnant with Drakeson, I was curious about my placenta.  I didn't know if I necessarily wanted to eat it or turn it into pills, but I definitely wanted to see it, and I definitely wanted a print.  I had been listening to the "Rainbow Relaxation" meditation from my Hypnobirthing class every night, and I envisioned making a rainbow print of the placenta.  Somehow.  Then I could turn it into a jigsaw puzzle and hang it up on our walls with all our other puzzles, and everybody would know how cool I am.

Needless to say, George thought that was pretty weird.  The hospital did too.  When all was said and done, the idea of fighting my husband and filling out a ton of paperwork really outweighed the idea of my stupid rainbow placenta print.

Then I got pregnant with Millicent, and my doula asked me if I wanted a print.  I was at a birthing center, and nobody thought I was being weird.  With no real discussion, George took me to the craft store to pick out the paper.  He made the placenta print himself - in fact, he made six - and pretended not to remember that he was ever against the idea.

Original Prints 

And then today, I finally made my super cool rainbow jellyfish placenta print puzzle.

Rainbow Jellyfish Puzzle, 1008 Pieces

Pink

If you think I'm writing this post specifically for you, then you're wrong.  Every person I know doesn't understand why I won't put my baby girl in pink.

(Inspired by "The Cat in the Hat")

But that is not all.  Oh, no.  That is not all...

I won't dress her in camo or neons or pinks,

I won't dress her in leather or leopard or minks,

No polka dots, glitter, no flowers, no bows,

No skirts and no dresses, and no pantyhose.

No ruffles or leggings or flared tops with lace,

Or slick shiny shoes, so she falls on her face.

Oh dear, said the cat.  You did not like our game.

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame, what a shame.

Extreme, you might think.  But is it really?  I didn't dress Drakeson in any of that, and nobody gave me shit about it.  I don't dress that way myself, and nobody complains.  I sometimes wear sundresses when it's hot outside, but I'd gladly switch to a diaper if I could pull that off.  And I may wear tight pants every now and again, but that's for my husband.  I digress.  My first point is one of aesthetics, and aesthetics alone.  I just don't find all this clothing marketed for girls so damn cute.
Pink.  It's just a color.  It's red and white.  Pink isn't really for girls at all, so why does it matter so much to me?  Maybe I hate the fact that we've associated colors with genders in the first place.  Maybe I hate the expectation and demand that I follow a handful of clothing guidelines.  Maybe I hate the eagerness from others to make assumptions regarding my child's personality, interests, strengths, and weaknesses.  Think back on the last conversation you witnessed regarding a baby.  The first item of order was gender.  The second was stereotyping.
A lot of people ask: what would I do if Millicent ended up loving pink?  I'll tell you.  I'd do the same thing I'd do for Drakeson if he loved pink.  I'd buy her lots and lots and lots of it.  Until then, if Drakeson can be the prettiest girl on the block in a Darth Vader shirt with a cape, then so can Milli.

First Thanksgiving Photoshoot

Guest photographer Stephanie Chavez helped us with our 2015 holiday photoshoot.  Our feast was just a month old.

Pooh

In the story, "Try, Try Again," Pooh learns to spell his name.  George wanted to help Drakeson write out his name, but Drakeson wanted to write "Pooh" instead.  He didn't quite get it right at the time, but later in the day, he was thinking about it again and wrote this all by himself.

Doula's Birth Story

Guest Writer:

Doula Lacreshia Laningham