Punk Attitude- the documentary and my own blather about it

Last night I watched a documentary called Punk Attitude, created by Don Letts. I got it from the Ypsi library, which keeps getting better and better movies, audio books and music.
I knew there'd be a lot of the same clips I've seen in other documentaries, but it was still wonderful to see and hear.
I was so drawn to this music as a little kid. When I'd see punk rock teenagers, I was completely smitten and in awe, while my family commented about what freaks these people were. My older brother and sister were so into hard rock, big hair rock bands, etc. I remember trying to describe what kind of music I wanted to hear to my brother when I was 9. I wanted it to be "really, really fast and cool". I heard the Ramones and said, "That's IT! That's the kind of music I want!!" But I was only 9, and had no access to this music. It wasn't played on the radio.
I used to play the Beatles, "Come Together" at the 75 speed on the record player because I loved how cool it sounded sped up.
It wasn't until I was 13 and 14 that I started to find it on my own and also have my own money (via house cleaning and baby sitting) to buy it on my own. Sometimes I'd buy sappy New Wave stuff, and other times more whiney stuff like The Smiths and The Cure. That fit the bill when I was in 8th and 9th grade, but as my teenage angst grew, so did my need for faster paced, more aggressive music. I was completely fed up with women, especially other teenage girls. I had no patience for all the physical and emotional effort that went into fitting in, looking lovely All The Time (for other people), and playing dumb and batting my eyes.
I think I must have had far too much testosterone in my system. :) I envied boys for their strength, their muscles. I wanted to shave my head and tell everyone to fuck off. I was "accused" of being a "dyke", yet nothing could've been farther from the truth. I envied those aggressive boys for being socially allowed to show their anger, but I also had huge crushes on a few of them.

So I slowly started to pick up on other bands. Bands that were no longer together. Bands that formed in the late 70s and early 80s. I was at the tail end of the 80s and just discovering these gems. I fell in love with Black Flag, The Ramones, The Clash, Bad Religion, The Dead Kennedys, GBH, The Circle Jerks and so on. You found out about another band by reading the liner notes of the one you just bought. Just as you find out about other writers by reading the blurbs on the back cover, to see who they're compared to.
So it was with music. Slowly buying another tape every weekend. Going to school with a bunch of rednecks, angry black kids and prom queens. At the time, there wasn't much of a national punk music scene. Every city seemed to have their own cluster of garage bands. And so started the weekend trips to Detroit to see assorted bands play for a couple bucks. Too young to drink, too excited to need to drink. It was heaven to me. And all the lovely boys! What better way to get near to them without having to have sex (!) then to get into the Pit with them, sweating, pushing, shoving and being swayed by the mass. It's like being a fish in a really tight school.
Screaming along with the band on the stage. It definitely filled a need in me. Made me feel strong and gave me an outlet for all my pissiness.
After I got out of high school and moved out, I wasn't so angry anymore. My tastes morphed into vintage ska, reggae and a few oi bands although I preferred the more light hearted ska and reggae. I fell in love with trying to replicate 1960s Mod fashions and skinhead girl look (and not the ignorant racist class of skins~ugh). The whole Unity thing. Shaving my head was liberating. My boyfriend at the time cried when I came home with a shaved head, and since we were on the outs already, I was quite pleased. "I am not your girl anymore. I am my own."
I feel like that's when I came into my own. No longer insecure. No longer worrying about what other people thought. I felt tough in a non-threatening way. A tough that gave me confidence to be me.
This documentary I watched followed the time line of punk over the years. It was mostly about the attitude of punk. Its not so much about being tough or aggressive, it's about being fed up with the asleep- at- the- wheel culture. Hippies of the 60s were punk in that sense. Granted, the music of that time doesn't do a thing for me, I definitely respect where it came from.
Interestingly enough, in the time line of All Things Punk, the documentary talks about the time from say 1983 to 1992 as being a dry time as far as music went on a national level. That was the exact time I was scraping from the barrel to find any music, clothes, literature that would fulfill my unmet needs.
You had to rely on either music from bands past, or immerse yourself in your own city's hardcore niche.
Then out of nowhere, the whole Grunge thing emerged. It was so obvious that the big labels had sense enough to cash in on this aggressive, pissed off music and market the shit out of it. (Inadvertently driving one well-meaning musician to kill himself) People who were punks and skins at the time hated the whole Grunge thing, while mainstream kids ate it up. Like, what? Grab your flannel? Plaid flannel is in?What the fuck are you talking about? Vivian Westwood was touting plaids in the mid 70s. (I knew because I had done my research!Part of being punk is also about being Pure. Ha!) Where have you been? The same kids who had beat up punk rock kids were now trying to dress and act the same way. But it was so wrong. They got it so wrong, and so late. Aggressive frat boys in plaid flannel shirts were completely out of sync with the purity of punk. Like anything else, they bought what they were told and proudly proclaimed they were "Grunge". We wanted nothing to do with that.
I think that was about the time I gravitated to the ska scene. Ska and Mod was clean. Being a grubby punk was over. Being grubby was what the Labels sold to kids. To quote that line: Be Hype, Buy the Anti-Hype.
Funny. We're all a bunch of puppets to some degree. But at 18 and 19, all of this was very important for self-identity purposes.
And now they sell punk rock clothes at the mall. That's so bizarre to me. What is punk rock about that? The Mall is The Man. Whatever happened to scrounging through rack after rack of stinky clothes at Salvation Army, looking for old man clothes that you could alter for the look you wanted?
Argh, nothing worse than an aging punk rock girl, no? "Back in my day..."
I tell you though, it made for a hard transition when I had my first child. Talk about identity crisis! Should a mother have tattoos? A shaved head? I felt guilty for listening to anything harsher or faster than a melodic reggae beat while pregnant. And then, who do I hang out with now? I can't go to any shows in Detroit anymore! Mothers don't do that. Besides, I'd feel really uncomfortable as my big, lactating breasts leaked onto my t-shirt. And so on.

How silly.

I do find it interesting though that a lot of midwives have a punk rock past, and before us of course, were the hippy midwives with the same values (just different music and clothes!). Being a home birth midwife is something you have to be passionate about, when only 1% of American babies are born at home. It's being anti-establishment in another way. And I am so happy that I finally discovered (with much gratitude to my own children and the gift of birthing them) that women (whom I had so little respect for as an angry teenager), are full of strength and wisdom. They're just so much more subtler about it. Women are steathily strong. They're amazing.
And so it continues.

Volvo station wagon. Driving kids around. Catching babies. It's all in the attitude and values.

There's my personal history of punk.

Outdoor blogging...

It's a lovely day in the back yard. Sarah returned to school today after her week off (and visiting tons of people). I'm glad to have the routine back but also look forward to summer vacation. I think we're going to buy a pass to Independence Lake since it is close and clean and fun. Looking forward to days in the sun, swimming. And also to gardening.
Over the past few days I have hacked down, chopped and bundled what feels like a small forest. Our yard is the breeding ground of impudent maples. I've come to hate them. They're everywhere and very tough to pull up. I also tried my hand at pruning our forsythia bushes thanks to Ypsidixits blog post and words on pruning those beasts. For some reason, it had never occurred to me to prune them. Most likely because one of them is the same shape as a Hostess coconut cake (one of those pink, breast-like orbs), and the kids love to play underneath it. But now that I've pruned them, they look much better and I like them much more. Who knew?

Eamon just made me laugh out loud. He found a bright yellow Peep half-smashed on his little picnic table and said proudly: "Mama! Cheeeeese!" I said, "No, that's a Peep."
"No! Cheese!" Okay then. I think Kraft makes something they call cheese that closely resembles a Peep.

So I'm having thoughts of drastically reducing what is known in this area as a midwife's fee for homebirth full-spectrum care.
I want to do this not to be nasty and competetive to other midwives but rather, because I know a lot of people who would love to have midwifery care and homebirths but can't afford it. It's this conundrum of good, honest folks not being able to afford the care they want. So (as usual), only the wealthy get it. I don't like that. And I don't want to be a part of causing it either.
I want to serve well, people like me. I wouldn't have been able to afford the full fee when I had E. I got the Apprentice's Discount.
So I'm feeling a bit like an anarchist here. I need to talk to some people about this. I'm afraid of pissing off some. I ran it by Greg and he was all for it, which kind of surprised me. He told me to go even lower than what I suggested. We'll see.

All right off to make dinner. I'm making those yummy rice/corn cakes with spicey black beans for dinner. Greg and Sarah are being seasonal carnivores and have been BBQ-ing every day. We go through this every summer, then they're both virtual vegetarians.

Doppler arrived!

And it is dreamy. Greg and I had gel all over our chests as we listened to our own heart beats (there not being a pregnant belly in the house~ thank goodness) last night.
I love it. Imight just have to drive over to Tammy's today just to hear the little Bebe.
http://www.medic-us.com/obgyn/fd2.htm

That's a link to the doppler. I paid $350 for it. The guy I got it from paid $650.
It's really nice. I know the Huntleighs have had some bad reviews about the plastic casing they're in, but this one seems a little different than A.'s Huntleigh doppler that I've used and fumbled with as the battery door reapeatedly popped off.
This thing even has a nice waterproof probe! So no making mama's get out of the tub when I need tolisten to heart tones.

I was doing my happy dance amongst the packing peanuts last night. This is somehow like a rite of passage for me. I've been dreaming about the day I would own a doppler for the last 5 years.
good stuff. And even better, I was able to pay cash for it and not put it on a credit card. Hopefully this will not make a dent in the $700 I plan on sending off at the first of May when I send in my NARM portfolio.

Okay, someone send me some clients now. All the midwives are slower than usual. It's a little unnerving, but I'm putting it down to the crap economy. Most of the people who had chosen home births when I was apprenticing did have health insurance. They chose to pay out of pocket for midwifery care. But when times are tough and lean, alternative healthcare is a luxury, unfortunately. I know the chiropractors and massage therapists are hurting too. What a shame. Health care in this country is so screwed up. But I'm not going to go there right now.

I need to make coffee and feed the Boy. The Girl has been with her Nan for the last two days and tonight she's been invited to hang out with our sweet neighbor. Everyone keeps saying how lucky I am to have only one kid for these past few days, but its harder. The two of them play really well together and without his big sister around, Eamon's a bit bored.

Today I'm off to meet one more midwife (the last) for lunch and a date at the notary! Also have a interview at 7pm with some folks looking for a doula. I already feel like they won't hire me and therefore, don't feel like wasting my time. I'm not being negative, I just have that feeling. Oh well. Hopefully I can squeeze in some yard work in the glorious sun today.

Here's a picture of the kids Easter morning. I didn't bother to remove the red eye b/c I'm too lazy. Plus, I thought it added to the already strange look on E's face. I suppose that's what happens to children who wake up far too early to look for har boiled eggs and then eat 17 pieces of chocolate before 8am.

scary morning

I posted this in my Live Journal earlier, but it has been so huge in my day that I thought I'd put it here too. Scary stuff.


This morning Sarah, Eamon and I were all in the back yard. They were playing, I was alongside the south side of my house clearing the beds. Both Sarah and Eamon would come and go~ they mostly played near me. I had the gate bungeed closed (the latch had broken 2 years ago but we didn't replace it b/c Sarah was big enough to know not go through there alone).Eamon took off with my coat and walked back toward the deck. A minute later I saw a car go down the street with two people craning their necks behind them. They pulled over and kept staring at something. I turned to shout for Eamon and just as I did, Sarah came running up saying, "Mama! I can't find Eamon!"
Bloody hell.
I ran to the gate (still bungeed tight), unfastened it and ran to the end of the driveway screaming Eamon's name. Sarah behind me, I shouted for her to look in the house for him. I ran to the very back of the yard, screaming his name louder and louder. Nothing. Sarah came out of the house and told me he wasn't there. "Oh dear God, please help us," I said, shakily. Sarah began to cry.
I was screaming, nearly crying, Eamon! Eamon! Again I ran to the end of the driveway. By this time I thought for sure he had made it to the street and someone had driven off with him. Oh God. No, no, no. Please.

Out of nowhere, up walks this young college girl carrying Eamon. I have no idea where he was, or who she was. There was far too much adrenalin for me to make sense of it. I think he must have walked round to the front of the condos next door, which is on its own little street. I grabbed Eamon and just cried and cried. I thanked the girl over and over and was shaking so hard. Oh, how awful! The girl, sweet thing, rubbed my arm and asked if I was all right. Yes, yes. Thank you so much. Oh my God, thank you.
We managed to come inside and sit on the bench together. Eamon must have sensed his Mama was way off kilter because he just laid his head against my chest and stayed there while I cried for a good 5 minutes. Sarah came and we all hugged. I took a bunch of Aconite 200C.

That was awful. I thought for sure some one had taken my son. I've been slightly quakey and emotional all afternoon. However, I've done a load of hard outdoors work today to burn all that adrenalin out of my system. Thank God for the little angel College Girl whom I've never seen before but just walked up to me silently and handed me little Eamon who was equally silent. Or maybe it just seemed that way.

Sprung

Easter morning. The kids woke us up at 7am. They found the eggs (I think Eamon cracked everyone he picked up) and then their baskets. We all indulged in some early morning chocolate and then watched TellyTubbies as a family. Doesn't that sound like fun?
Have no idea what we're doing today. I was planning on going to church but Eamon slept poorly after 3am or so. He was the marathon nurser~ nursed at least 2-3 times an hour until we woke up. It's nearly 9 now and he looks ready to sleep. I think it must be those darn 2year molars coming in way too early.

We went kayaking yesterday. That was interesting. Eamon kept standing up but it was still fun. It was fabulous to be on the water. I've not been since '03. I was too big and pregnant in '04 and last year Eamon was too little and I was too on-call. It felt great to be paddling away. I was relieved that my arms weren't all jello either. Most likely due to carrying around a big, heavy child for the last year and a half. Sarah really wanted to paddle and I let her try. She did well butnot enough to move us much. But as usual, she has such endurance that she kept gong forever.

I wonder if Lowe's is open today? I'd love to get some plants for the garden. I think its warm enough now. I'm so excited to be working in the dirt again. And I can't wait to have fresh cilantro for the pickin'! And to make home made salsa. Itty bitty shivers of yumminess.

All right. Boring post. Off to shower. Do laundry. Pick up scattered candy wrappers.

Who are these people and why are they ruining my downtown?

It's a beautiful Saturday. I woke up this morning and got myself and the kids up and fed at a relatively early time. My mom came over to watch the kids as I had to meet with my doula clients and then go clean the credit union. Lovely morning. Gorgeous weather. Looking forward to taking the kids kayaking this afternoon.
When I was coming home, I stopped at the light at Michigan Ave and Huron Street. Looking down Michigan Ave (Ypsi's main drag), I was appalled to see at least 8 people at various points holding huge 5' by 3' placards of mutilated, aborted fetuses. I was instantly filled with rage.
Usually these freaks just stand outside Planned Parenthood with their horrid signs, but today they are up and down Michigan Ave. The good church folks must be celebrating Easter weekend in the best way they know how. Blood hell. They make me sick.
They are so lucky my kids weren't in the car. I was quaking with rage. I've not been that pissed in years. I tried my best to ignore them, not make eye contact, but after passing Freak #4 I screamed out my window that they were a bunch of "sick bastards" and that I hoped they were proud of themselves. Oh, and gave them the finger. Very mature, I know.
I came home to my mom and kids so happy and sweet telling me about their adventures to the candy store. I was shaking as I took out the yellow pages to get the police department phone number.
The Ypsi police guy seemed sympathetic. I asked him how it is that these freaks can hold up signs like this in a public area~ signs that I equate to pure pornography. Shall I hold up a blown-up image of a porno movie? People would shoot me. How is it these people can get away with this shit? He told me that unfortunately, the Supreme Court has ruled that it's their 1st Amendment right to be able to do this. Yet if you pee in public you get a big, fat ticket? WTF is wrong with this country? I asked if it would be my right to stand next to them with an equally large sign that read: IGNORE THESE FREAKS~ THEY'RE ALL GOING TO HELL
He laughed and said I could definitely do that.
He confided to me that they had sent "ushers" (?) downtown to see if they could make these people leave under some other law that they might be breaking.

How can these people call themselves Christians? I don't get it. If you're so into saving and protecting the innocent, then keep your signs away from the eyes of children who happen to be driving by. And if you're so concerned about protecting the unborn, then why don't you protect the countless girls and women who are abused, molested and raped every day~ protect the innocent before they get pregnant.
These people have completely ruined my afternoon. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to know that. Maybe they hoped that once I saw that lovely image of half a bloody fetus head I would change my stance and say: Let me join you! You are wondeful people!

Why is it the more devout a person is, the more they judge? I have tried to overcome this thought. It's one of the biggest reasons that agnostic and atheist folks run for the hills when a Christian comes around. I've tried to overlook that. Stay away from those people. I happen to need and really enjoy having God in my life. And Jesus. And Mary. And over the years my faith and spirituality have deepened and I'm really enjoying it. But people who hold up these big ugly signs in the name of being Christian make me want to run away screaming. If I'm a Christian and you're a Christian, how come I can't stand you?

Okay. That is out of my system. Well, at least some of it is.
I had to bitch about it some where.

I am turning my leaf for today and vow to not let those sick people bug me anymore. And I will stay away from Michigan Ave. for the rest of the day.

We're hitting the river in a few hours and I can't wait! Kayak season is back.

Why do we put ourselves out HERE?

So after an emotional phone conversation this morning, I'm left wondering just how I feel about Blogs and any Internet journaling. Why do I feel this need to share All ofMe with the World Wide Web? Why do any of us do it?
I for one, find a little patch of sanity reading about other people's dilemmas: their inspirations, their ugly sides, their funny sides, their desires to duct tape their rambunctious toddlers to a wall, or to trade in their spouse for a speechless nanny.
If I were some JoeAnn Schmoe, who worked in the factory and had no reputation to uphold, blogging wouldn't be an issue.
However, I'm a midwife. At least, I'm just at the fine point of starting my practice. Do I really need to blog myself, my life, my emotions out for the public? I read other midwive's blogs and find reassurance from their words of self-doubt and frustration, their joys and how it all affects their families.
Perhaps we should be more guarded? We're opening ourselves up to even more judgment.

It's funny though. It took me a long time to feel comfortable around my senior midwives. They seemed so virtuous, so caring all of the time that I felt like they weren't human. How could I be myself around such saints? For me, I don't feel completely at ease with someone until they expose a little of their darker side. Just crack a joke. Bitch about your spouse, about traffic, something. These women are so darn professional that being snarky is a downright chore for them!
Another midwife I know talks about being a bit nervous when she has to meet up with a gaggle of midwives and to be passive aggressive, she'll smoke the odd cigarette to calm her nerves before she arrives. See, because smoking is a horrible sin to holistic care providers. We must practice what we preach. We must fight for the crown of purity.

And this reminds me of another reason why I left the practice I worked with. My biggest issue was that I wanted people to hire me for me. Not hire me because since I worked with X I must be just like X and when I fail to meet that expectation, the client is upset. I'm talking personality here, not function. And I've witnessed another midwife go through that and it was painful. It was this precarious dance of trying to find independence while trying to please everyone. And it didn't work very well. There was a lot of depression and resentment.
It was a vantage point for me. Like being the youngest and learning by watching the oldest struggle.
And I knew I wouldn't do very well trying to please everyone. I had to find my independence, my style, if you will, first.

And so here I am. I'm just me. Continually trying to do my best. But having some really shitty, hard days from time to time. Should I expose this about myself?
Is this process of blogging out my good and bad days going to come back and bite me?
As a care provider in my community, am I slitting my own throat?
Keeping your mouth shut seemed to be the stance of my senior midwives. That's professional.
And it's safe.

So where do you go to yak it all out? And I yak.
It's in my constitution, I do believe.
I might just throw in the Blogging towel.
I've had some hesitations since starting it. Don't know. I'll need to sit on this one.

I think I'll go find some more midwife blogs and see how they're doing today. Search for something outside of ACOG quotes and legislation articles. I'm looking for emotion.

Sold! And the Doppler goes to the paranoid lady in the grey sweater!

So I bought the $350 Doppler. I am very excited about this, and also a bit anxious. I mean, 10 years ago if someone had told me that I would some day over the Internet plop out $350 from my bank account and put it into someone else's bank account with high hopes that they'd send me the actual item I bought....well, I'd probably would've said something along the lines of: "Yeah, right. I'm not that frickin' stupid!"
So I hope I'm not stupid. It just blows me away, the whole online selling of merchandise between consumers.
At any rate, I'll be very happy when I receive this doppler. Woo hoo.

I received my business cards Saturday for my midwifery services. I put up a few at Whole Foods when we were eating pizza there Sunday. Outside of that, I've not actually done much foot work. It's only Wednesday. I did go ahead and change our voicemail message to include the business name.
I have this wee paranoia that I'll only admit here: um, if I put up my business cards...er, someone might call me!
Silly, I know.
It'll be fine.
I guess you could say I did a little PR work yesterday at Sarah's school. I visited her class to tell them about "My Job". I brought in my birth bags and talked about everything in them. The kids were funny. Two of them were actually born at home, although they both admitted they didn't remember much about it. In one of my birth bag pockets is a little pretty pouch with two rocks in it. One is pink quartz and the other just says Compassion on it. A sweet Christmas gift from Kate. Sarah had pulled the little bag out and showed the kids. They asked what those were used for. I explained they were a gift from a friend. I referred to them as "good luck rocks". Following that comment, a snarky 6 year old boy informed me: "It's a good thing you carry those good luck rocks, otherwise babies would be dying off, since you don't have the kind of technology at home that hospitals do."
Well the Little Shit! Oh, from the mouth of babes, eh?
I saw this as a good opportunity to switch gears from jinxy "good luck" to how important it is for my clients to have superb nutrition and health. And how if you were trying to grow a plant you wouldn't stick it a closet with no water. That growing a baby was a very important task and only women who really took care of themselves could have a home birth. I asked: "Do you think it's a good idea to for a pregnant woman to eat Fritos and Mountain Dew every day?"
"Nooooooooooo," they all cooed.
"Do you think it'd be good for the baby inside?"
"Nooooooo," they cooed again.
And one little girl (who had been born at home) said: "That baby would be bouncing off the walls!"
Hilarious. It was funy. And fortunately, no one brought up the dreaded question of: How do babies get inside there anyway?
I think I managed to explain what I do without fearing angry phone calls from any parents.
However, after leaving the schoool I realized I'd really love to talk to older kids about health and their bodies and basic sex ed stuff that would be meaningful to their lives. That would be so cool.
I don't think I could find a forum or an audience for it though. There's always some parent that goes apeshit because their 17 year old was given information about ovulation and how to avoid pregnancy. But George Dub-ya says ABSTINENCE is the best for our youth!

Okay, no politics on my blog. That is the last time his name will appear here.


ARgh! I have been trying to upload pictures to this blog for the last 2 days and it won't work. It just takes forever and then says there's been an error. I actually had a picture of the helicoper dropping marshmallows from Saturday's festivities.

Egg hunts and marshmallow droppings

Saturday morning we trucked the kids down to Frog Island for the Annual Easter Egg Hunt and Marshmallow Drop. It's annual but this is the first year we went. It's a good idea, and it's fun for most of the kids, I'm sure. However, I thought it was just a huge mess of very poorly organized Ypsilanti fun.
The egg hunt was ridiculous. There were too many kids, not enough eggs, and all the eggs were sitting in a 10 foot section of ground. The lines for the free candy, popcorn and icey things were far too long. After standing in the popcorn line for at least 15 minutes, we were ordered off the field so the helicopter could drop its marshmallows. A site I was very excited to see.
The helicopter did come and drop its load, but all the big kids ran like banshees and scooped up the marshmallows (that we were all told not to eat) and that was the end of the festivities. The best part was this Joe Dirt guy. After the chopper came and dropped the marshmallows, this guy was shouting amidst the throngs of shrieking children (in a pefect Joe Dirt voice):"Y'all didn't listen! That chopper's coming back. Stay off the field, y'all! I'm tellin' ya the chopper is coming back."
A few people stopped momentarily and looked to the sky to see the helicopter flying away. Far away. But it was funny to see and hear the rumor spread across the field. People were whispering: Is the helicopter coming back? I heard the helicopter was coming back. Nobody said GO! We were suposed to wait before running across the field...
All because of this Joe Dirt guy.

Ah, Spring time in Hipsilanti.

Ahem

So for what its worth, I am now official in the sense that I filed for a DBA. That's right, 5 years with the business name of Riverside Midwifery. I felt like a very minor celebrity in that the woman at the clerks office in Vital Records recognized my name and signature from signing birth certificates. She was super sweet and wished me the best of luck. (Always helps to have Eamon on the counter while doing any transaction, being goofy and flirting.)
Woo hoo!
All I need now is.... NARM money, a doppler, O2, some little odds and ends and oh, some clients.
All in good time, all in good time.

behind door #3, a new DOPPLER!

hmmm, I wish.

I'm all excited about the mere possibility of scoring on this fetal doppler. Some guy whose wife was pregnant with twins is selling one. He posted on the Midwifery Today forums a few weeks back. I emailed but he said someone was sending a check. Well, he just emailed this morning asking me if I was still interested. Yup. It's really nice. It's a Huntleigh FD1+ (google it if you are stock-still bored and give two shits about midwifery gadgets!)
It makes me go all oogly.
Water-proof probe that is super sensitive, can pick up heart tones as early as 8 weeks on some women. It normally sells for around $650~ this man is selling his for $350. Damn good price. And it can't have been used all that much. One woman, one pregnancy.
So I'm just putting it out into the universe...if I'm meant to spend $350 that I really don't have, then the sale will be mine. However, if not, that's fine too. There's a ton of dopplers on eBay, I just don't have the patience to bid and wait on stuff. And the nice ones don't usually sell for that nice a price.
We shall see.
Both kids are sound asleep. Eamon crashed at 6:30. The daylight's savings time screwed us all up. Kids woke up at 6am (but was really 5am) and stayed up. Eamon had a 1 hour nap and was clawing at me by dinner time. I managed to fend him off long enough to feed and bathe him, andthen he was out. Sarah and I watched the very cute Barbara Streisand movie: What's Up Doc?
That is a great movie, Teressa. Sarah loves it. And it made me laugh out loud many times.
So did Sarah. She said in her sassy, 6 year-old way: What is up with that woman's nose?
I said: She's just Barbara Streisand, honey. And that's just her nose.

Funny. Good night.