Yeah . . . still sick. Really sick. Mark is at a professional training from today until Sunday, so I’m parenting sick AND solo right now. Lucky me! I picked up the kids this afternoon wearing the same outfit I wore for pick-up the last two days in a row. I wish there were some kind of a sign we could wear when we’re sick . . . some kind of scarlet letter to let people know when we’re infectious and snotty, as opposed to homeless or drug-addicted. I would so much rather people give me ample space and compassionate nods, instead of the looks I’m currently getting as I pick up the kids (which are more like horror and judgment).
Anyways, here’s something a little more cheerful. This is Karis at the piano, singing her falsetto version of Dynamite.
for your friday evening enjoyment . . . the musical stylings of karis howerton
a family for moses
This is a post in search of a family . . . a family for a very special boy in Haiti. My friends at Heartline continue to do amazing things to help young moms care for their children in Haiti. There are so many stories of moms finding strength and hope (you can read some of them here). But there are times when adoption is the right option . . . and adoption is the right option for Moses. Disabled and abandoned in the dirt, Moses has very little chance for a quality life in Haiti. But those who are caring for him now are confident that there is a family out there who can care for him. Maybe that family is you. Maybe you are not in a position to adopt. I hope you will read his story anyways . . . there are other ways you can help. The following information was sent to me by my friend Tara and I’m sharing it here in the hopes that a family will be found.
Our goal with this blog entry is to have one post with all of the information that is currently available about sweet Moses. We're asking you to share this on adoption groups, Facebook, blogs, Twitter and anywhere you think that potential adoptive parents might be reading.
Early in the morning on Tuesday the 9th of August a Haitian woman knocked on the gate of Heartline Ministries Maternity Center in Tabarre, Haiti. In her arms she carried a little boy. She asked one of the Heartline staff if there was an orphanage nearby. The gate-man answered, telling her that the house was not an orphanage and she'd need to look elsewhere.
She voluntarily shared that the little boy she was carrying in her arms had not always "been like this" - that he had suffered a high fever and after that he was not the same anymore. She said he was two years old. That woman is assumed to have been his biological mother.
A few hours later another Heartline staff member came running to find Heartline Ministries director, Beth McHoul inside the Maternity Center because they saw a little boy lying in the dirt near the gate. The employee and Beth picked the little guy up, brushed off the dirt and bugs, and carried him inside.
No other information about this little boy's history is available. Heartline staff made multiple attempts to locate the woman, to no avail. She has not been seen since the morning of August 9th. Because he was left on the ground without any papers or further identifying information, we don't know what his given name is. We don't know when or where he was born. We don't know how long ago he had the fever that most likely caused his brain damage.
On the 9th of August two different people in two different locations (one Haitian and one American) both thought that the little boy should be called 'Moses'. In Kreyol it is spelled Moise and is pronounced Mo-EE-ze. All of the Heartline community began calling him Moses/Moise the same day he was found. He now responds to that name.
The day he was found a plan to file legal paperwork was made. The filing took place over the next few days. On August 9th Moses was moved to live with a missionary family that works with Heartline. Moses has mainly been cared for by their 16 year old daughter, Paige.
It is believed that Moses probably had untreated Meningitis that caused his brain damage. There are other possibilities too, but this seems most likely. In the seven weeks Moses has been cared for by a family he has made incredible tangible progress. He holds his head up and steady for short periods of time, he can bear weight on his legs, he exercises his limbs and has greater range of motion, he responds to people. Moses clearly gives and receives love. He responds especially to people he knows well and recognizes. He responds to touch. He responds to music. He belly laughs. He expresses pain. Moses currently weighs 20 pounds. We would guess he is two and a half and probably closer to three years old. He eats soft foods that are spoon fed to him. He drinks with assistance from a cup.
When Moses went for a consultation at Handicap International they gave their professional opinions regarding his Cerebral Palsy and his future. They believe that he has the possibility to one day operate a wheelchair with his hands. They think it is possible for him to eventually walk a few steps to move himself from a chair to a bed. He responds well to stimulus and is alert so he will be able to learn certain things by being rewarded with results, such as pushing buttons to operate a chair or feed himself. It is not expected that he will say very many words. His range of motion and flexibility are good and will improve with physical therapy and exercise.
Most importantly - We believe with God all things are possible. Moses has captured many hearts and we don't underestimate the power of the prayers being lifted on his behalf.
Past posts with Moses:
The day after Moses was found.
Photo
More Photos
Video(laughing)
More Photos
Prayer Request
Preparing Hearts and Home
Moses will be moving on September 30th. He will be traveling by plane to his new temporary home.
The Children of the Promise Children's Home and Adoption Program will be taking care of Moses and processing the adoption paperwork for his adoption. Their program is located in northern Haiti. Their adoption coordinator can be reached at this email address: cotpadoption@yahoo.com They will ultimately be matching Moses to his adoptive parents.
For those new to Haiti's adoption laws and practices we'll simply say that the process is ambiguous and can be challenging. There are hundreds of families that have successfully completed Haitian adoptions that can answer questions and be a prayer support. One of the very first things to do if you are interested in adopting Moses or any child is to get started immediately with a licensed agency on your home-study.
The current legal requirements in Haiti are as such:
1. Parents must be 35
2. Must be married 10 years
3. No biological children
However, as long as you can meet two of those requirements, you can very likely still qualify to adopt. The rules are more lenient for special needs kids. The closer you are to meeting those qualifications, the quicker the adoption could potentially be processed.
Costs to adopt:
The rough estimate on his adoption is listed below. This list does not include any travel expenses. Adoptive parents will need to come to Haiti. Please add in the cost of travel.
Children of the Promise requires families go through an agency, but the agency they are working with has agreed to lower their fees as well.
The estimated fees
· Country Fee - $5,000
· Agency Fee – $2,250
· Translation - $250 - $500
· I600a - $720 (plus $85 fee for biometrics for each person over 18)
· Home study - $2000 average (varies state to state)
· Haitian Consulate - $100
· ESTIMATED TOTAL: $10,570 (Plus Travel)
If God is moving you to inquire about Moses please contact Robin at this address: cotpadoption[at]yahoo.com
In case you are reading this and moved to help, you can also help by donating. You can give to the orphanage who is caring for Moses in Haiti at this address:
Children of the Promise
PO BOX 123
Prinsburg, MN 56281
You can also sent them supplies, as they are always in need of anything involved in caring for babies. There is more info about their blog if you're interested.
Additionally, if you are interested in supporting Heartline and the work they do with at-risk moms in Haiti, you can donate online or send to:
Heartline Haiti
PO Box 898
Sunnyside, WA 98944
sidelined
September has been a crazy month. Since I taught a summer intensive this year, I didn’t have to teach a spring class at the university. So instead of just taking a break and enjoying the free time like a sane person would do, I threw myself into a few more projects, accepted a few more writing gigs, and then agree to launch a new company’s social media campaign. All of these things sounded like great opportunities . . . and they were. But all of them combined equal a full-time job, and here I am, a mom of 4 with three mornings a week to myself. I seem to have some sort of type-A sickness that makes me completely unable to compute the fact that I have finite hours in the day. People are constantly asking me, “how do you do it all?” And I am constantly answering: with very poor boundaries and very little sleep. I don’t recommend it.
I got back from Mighty Summit and couldn’t quite find my bearings. My inbox was starting to give me panic attacks again, and every day I was staying up until the wee hours trying to finish all the work I didn’t get done during the day. On Monday morning, I woke up and walked to my computer, and sat in that same spot until midnight, taking breaks only to go to the bathroom, eat, and kiss the kids before Mark graciously took them out for the evening so I could keep working. I crawled into bed that night telling Mark that I had not had one single moment of pleasure that day . . . and there seemed to be no end in sight. Despite working all day and into the night, I still had a to-do list a mile long. I still had unanswered emails and phone calls to return and overdue writing assignments and a nagging feeling that I wasn’t being a great wife or mother, either.
Somewhat predictably, I woke up in the middle of the night with a raging sore throat, a runny nose, and body aches. Things got progressively worse as the day went on, and I don’t know how many times I said to myself: I CANNOT AFFORD TO BE SICK RIGHT NOW. I had deadlines and places to be, meetings and negotiations and contracts to deal with. This week my calendar was as packed as it has ever been, and my body basically staged a full-on revolt. So much so that I had to hire a sitter yesterday while I laid in my room, and had to have Mark come home early today. I’m about as sick as I’ve been in a long time. Instead of dealing with my to-do list, I shuffled from the bed to the sofa with a kleenex box, a puke bowl and a bottle of NyQuil close at hand.
It’s funny . . . I mean, I don’t know if my subconscious can conjure up physical symptoms. I don’t know if a person’s brain can order up snot and phlegm as a coping skill. But I definitely got my re-set button pushed the last few days. I got absolutely nothing done, and I guess that’s what I was needing. I was sick enough that television wasn’t even appealing, and I had a lot of time with my thoughts. Time to mull over my priorities and my boundaries, and how ridiculous this pace has been, and most of all, time to re-evaluate what is realistic given the fact that I’ve got 24 hours in a day, and actually need to spend some of that time sleeping. And time, of course, to wonder why I have such a tendency to overextend myself, and ponder when I will learn to have more balance without my body staging an intervention on me.
Alright, and maybe I had time to catch up on a few episodes of Project Runway. So it wasn’t all bad.
last week in iphone photos
I think it’s been more than a week since I purged the iphone photos. I’m a wee bit behind on blogging. And emails. And life in general. Ever have days where you have so much to do that you just sit, paralyzed, staring at the computer screen, sort o opening and closing browser windows wondering where to start and then realizing it’s been two hours and you’ve done nothing? Yeah. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.
Anyways, here are some snapshots of the last few weeks.
Jafta got some hand-me-downs from some older friends. He was pretty excited to go to school in his “skinny cords”.
Jafta started piano lessons last week! (Yes, I’m still planning to paint that thing yellow. Any day now.) 
Karis likes to play with my makeup. And when I don’t allow it, she waits until I’m not looking and then uses a magic market to apply her lipstick. She’s my little goth princess.
Fortunately edemame and white rice are on the girls’ list of Ten Approved Foods We Will Eat.
The girls were mesmerized by a snail outside of our gym the other morning. Fortunately Jafta wasn’t there, so there was no risk of the thing being eaten.
I will put these children in footie pajamas until they are physically old enough to restrain me from doing so. Just watch me. 
SO CUTE. I may have taken 27 photos of her cheerleading, and two of the actual game. Look, if the boys want to incorporate pom-poms into the game I might be more apt to film them.
I tried really hard to play the part of "enthusiastic sports mom" this morning. At one point, I yelled GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME, and as soon as it came out of my mouth I realized I was quoting a High School Musical song. I think I'm gonna need a little coaching here, too.
that’s what SHE said: weighty issues edition
Here are a few musings on weight, body image, food, and getting healthy from the web the past few weeks. Different perspectives, and yet all relatable.. These are just snippets, click on the title to read the whole post.
Is gaining 15 pounds really "torture"? | Salon.com
For her role as the voluptuous Celia in "The Help," actress Jessica Chastain went the full De Niro, packing on a whopping 15 pounds. It was, she told US magazine this week, "a form of torture." And my God, look at her, lumbering around the film with all that extra girth. It's like a horror movie!
The vegan actress may indeed have been fighting her own natural body type to play her part, and her fighting weight regimen of melted soy ice cream does indeed live up to her description of "disgusting." Does the world really need another slender actress moping about she had to put on -- and I'm quoting directly here-- "all this weight"? Especially when her supposedly beefed-up version is still so damn slim?
Thirty Seven | Daily Relish
… this was the first year my birthday made me feel old. Not because I was turning 37. Because having (now) 30 pounds to lose at this age made me feel like I missed my window. I'm not sure what that even means, or how my life would (or wouldn't) change if I was thin again. But I think more than the collection of years, that "missing your window" feeling is what makes anyone feel old. Whether you want to get your degree, drink wine in Tuscany, or play in a sprinkler; it sucks to consider the loss of "I might never ____________."
For me, maybe it's being destined to wear an ass curtain on my bathing suit forever. It's superficial. It's embarrassing. People have real problems like divorce and cancer. Even in my life, this is the least of my worries. And maybe that's why I focus on it so much. It's a problem where the solution is still up to me vs. the real ones that are beyond my control.
Veganism is Not a Crash Diet | Choosing Raw
And recently, Megan Fox also halted a vegan diet, saying:
‘For a year and a half, until about four months ago, I followed a strict vegan diet based on raw fruits and vegetables, no bread, sugar and coffee. But I had lost too much weight.
As JL points out, it’s fantastic that a Hollywood role model wanted to be curvier and to regain the weight she’d unintentionally lost: three cheers to Megan Fox for not aiming to look like a waif! What troubles me is the fact that she, like Amanda Seyfried, seemed to equate veganism and raw food with a “detox diet” (or so these no-bread-no-coffee-no-cooked-food-no-fun regimens are often called). And that’s simply unfair: being vegan has nothing to do with tossing away one’s morning coffee, or refusing to eat bread. I can’t imagine my life without either my morning java or my beloved Ezekiel sandwiches, or without a healthy balance of raw and cooked food.
My love affair with TED. | Barefoot Foodie
I spoke about my career, and I made a few jokes to disarm everyone enough to make it okay for them to hear every uncomfortable thing I had to say. I spoke about being bullied in elementary school and moo’ed at in the halls during high school. I spoke about being bulimic in college and spending the last decade just trying to stop hating myself. I told them I needed to redefine beauty and how women looked at their bodies, for myself and for my daughter.
I told them I was done just talking about change.
And then, well…
Sneak peek courtesy Enoch Wu
The Shape of a Mother
One day I sat in a restaurant in Anaheim, California eating breakfast, when a woman passed by my table with her infant carrier in tow. As she lifted it up to fit between the tables, her shirt raised and I saw that, although she was at a healthy weight and her body was fit, she had that same extra skin hanging around her belly that I do. It occurred to me that a post-pregnancy body is one of this society's greatest secrets; all we see of the female body is that which is airbrushed and perfect, and if we look any different, we hide it from the light of day in fear of being seen. That makes me want to cry. Sure we all talk about the sagging boobs and other parts, but no one ever sees them. Or if they do, it's in comical form, mocking the beauty that created and nourished our children.
Did Loving My Body Almost Kill Me? | Jess Weiner at Glamour
I understand why women are so fed up with being told by society (and doctors) that they need to get to some “ideal” size. I get why they’d want to rebel and no longer care about weight—I’ve been there too. But we also can’t pretend illness doesn’t happen to us. Health matters, and paying attention to markers like your cholesterol, blood pressure and, yes, your weight doesn’t mean you’re giving in to some societal ideal. It means that you’re listening to your body on the inside, which is a crucial part of loving yourself completely.
Beneath every body is an untold story | Happy Herbivore
You may look at me and think I'm skinny. I'm not. I know what I look like when I'm skinny. I look gaunt. I'm pale. My face looks older. Today I look healthy, rounder in my size 6 and 8 clothes. Yes, according to US standards of "average 40+ year old American women" that may seem small but, for me, it's not about the number on the scale or the size on the label. It's that I'm no longer chasing an image of what I should look like...or be. I'm chasing health and healthy, for me, is rounder. It's curvier. It's happiness, finally found.
what I want you to know: why I resent mothers
What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions. It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here. Today’s post is by an anonymous reader.
I want you to know that I resent you mothers. Not particular mothers (I love many mothers I know dearly), but the corporate entity as a whole, and not for the reason you are probably assuming. I don't struggle with infertility (at least not to my knowledge, being an unmarried conservative Christian I've never tried). I used to work for an adoption agency, and have half a plan of someday adopting children one way or the other. Regardless of all this, I actually have quite an interest in prenatal and maternal health. I'm an LSW who interned at a mother infant home, volunteered at a reproductive health clinic overseas, and did research in graduate school on topics like attachment, in-vitro fertilization, grief, and the psychological effects institutionalization has on adoptive children. I tell you all of this so that you don't think my resentment comes from a lingering desire to be you, or distaste or misunderstanding of your vocation.
I resent you because we are so similar in some ways yet different in others, and because society creates this supportive sphere for you. In daily life, people understand you, respect you, aspire to be you, give you leeway. Communities, mommy-blogs, play-dates, magazines, television shows- there is an entire culture, built by you and for you, respecting and supporting you.
I am a caregiver. I know it's not a direct correlation, and I'd be offended if someone likened my parent with mild dementia to your toddler. She is an adult, and deserves to be treated as such. She is less dependent on me than your toddler as well, and I realize I have more freedom probably than you do. Still.....
In some ways we are very similar. I have to be careful what is left around the house, throwing away old food and keeping an eye on dog treats. I have to care for someone while sick, while trying not to get them sick, unless someone takes pity on me, and does the care for me. (I am blessed to have the help of my brother in this.) I leave work early for doctor's appointments and caregiver absences, carry a medical history in my head, administer medications, try to guess at feelings, gauge whether clothing is appropriate for the weather or not, run out the door late because of getting two of us ready, get followed around the house while attempting to clean, balance housework with quality time, awaken in the middle of the night, carry on bifurcated telephone conversations, and answer immediate demands. Like you, my social life has to bend around my responsibilities, Friday nights out have been usurped by bathroom cleaning, and friends have become distanced. Like you, i wouldn't trade my responsibility, love my loved one, and see this new mission of mine as an enormous blessing.
Unlike you, though, i don't have supportive "mommy-blog" rings of people normalizing the experience. Instead, i get offered support groups, as if there is something inherently maladaptive about my lifestyle. I don't get many play dates, I sometimes get to gauge who is okay with us as we are and who i need to extricate from our company. People don't seem to often try to convince you to put your children in a home, or lecture you about how they fear you're sacrificing your life and happiness to care for your daughter. When your child is in the hospital, you don't usually have to worry about him being sedated with contraindicated, potentially dangerous anti-psychotics because he is "out of control", even after you were told that the ability to contact you would be noted in the chart. You don't usually have to listen to people express their opinion that people with the same condition as this beautiful life occupying a giant space in your heart are "better off" when they die, or are no longer themselves. You don't have to bite your tongue in such situations, wanting to yell and swear at these people, wanting them to see how beautiful life is, how much your loved one is still your loved one, and wishing they would understand that the simple pleasure of a baseball game on a sunny day is a simple pleasure one can still understand even when they forget which teams are playing.
I want you to know that I resent you because society looks at your child, even a sick child as a precious life. Sometimes it looks at our parents as a tragedy, a terrible disease, a burden, problem to be hidden away conveniently out of sight.
I resent you because it seems people don't believe I can live in both worlds. I want you to know I hate it when people assume that because I am an almost 32 year-old single woman I have all the time, freedom, relaxation, and money in the world. I want you to know that telling a caregiver how much her life will change when she becomes a mother, implying that she should enjoy the freedom she has now to exercise or work two jobs, that life will change when someone else depends on her, is obnoxious. i want you to understand this middle sphere i occupy, neither young and free nor filling the traditional wife and mother role. i want you to know that none of this is absolute, and i realize this, that you do get some of the stigma and problems i'm describing and i don't necessarily receive all of them (thank God!!).
i want you to know that i just want some of the acceptance and understanding you seem to receive. That i want your happy blogs full of anecdotes and laughter, and not the support forum i once tried joining full of complaints and bile. I know resenting you for this is like being angry with the child who has 20/20 vision. It isn't your fault, and it isn't right of me to envy. For this, i apologize. Thank you for listening, though.
minivan confessional
Sometimes when I’m in the car with the kids, and they are being exceptionally loud, I turn on the GPS system and tell them they must be completely quiet so I can listen to the directions. It’s just that the soothing voice of British Simon directing me home is much more tolerable than screaming and fighting. Even if he is telling me how to get from the kid’s school to my home, or some other place I’ve driven a million times. The kids haven’t caught on to the ruse yet, and it buys me some quiet time.
What do you need to confess?
a new film on eradicating poverty
A couple months ago I wrote about a new campaign that Compassion International is behind. It’s called Live58, and they have created a film called 58: Fast Forward The End of Poverty. The goal of this campaign is to unite churches to eradicate poverty. The movie premieres this October, and it is full of inspiring stories of the global church in action. I had the chance to preview the film, and what I really like is the way it highlights the way everyday people are effecting change, from the slums of Kenya to the streets of New York. The film portrays a young British woman prevailing over the pressures of consumer society, Ethiopian Christians working to restore their environment, an American business owner promoting Fair Trade coffee and connecting his local community with the work of ending poverty, a local pastor in India working to help those enslaved by bonded labor, and the generosity of New York youth who gave up their own food for the sake of those with even less. The stories are both inspirational and convicting.
The filmmakers have offered my readers an invitation to watch the film at one of the the 50 premiere events happening at theaters nationwide. You can check on tickets and locations here, using the access code KRISTENHOWERTON. If you are interested in requesting a free screening kit for your church or group, you can request one here.
the weezer show
I got back from Mighty Summit yesterday and I’m in the midst of unpacking (literally and figuratively). It was an incredible weekend that I hope to write about more in detail, once I’ve had the chance to reconnect with the kids, upload my photos, and dig myself out of a serious email black hole. For now, I’m posting pictures of our big night out with the boys at the Weezer show last week.
I was thrilled to see Weezer again – the last time I saw them play was at the MTV Movie Awards in 2001 . . . ten years ago! Man, that makes me feel old. They played their new single at the time (hashpipe) and I remember Cameron Diaz jumping up and headbanging for the whole song. We showed the boys the video of that night, and Jafta was less impressed that I was there in the audience, and more concerned about whether or not the pyrotechnics would catch him on fire.
We bought the boys some noise-cancelling headphones for the show and Jafta was REALLY EXCITED to wear them. So excited that he wore them the entire car ride on the way to the concert. He is dedicated. He was also excited for the extra protection they might provide in the case of his head catching on fire. Nerd alert!
We caught a little Ziggy Marley before the big show.
Then we met up with our friend Tariku. Matching headphones! *fistpump*
It was sort of cracking me up that the boys had no reference for their backstage access, beyond the fact that it was Tariku’s daddy’s band. They were walking around like they owned the place . . . eating food from the catering table and asking for drinks from the trailers. At once point, I got caught up in a conversation with another mom . . . about preschool transitions and potty training (just your typical rockstar backstage conversation) and I noticed that Kembe was no longer in sight. Mark had taken Jafta to the bathroom, and Kembe had completely disappeared. I had one of those moments of panic, and tried to remind myself that we were in a heavily secured area. I searched for him all over to no avail. Everywhere except for the stage – the stage in front of thousands of people, accessible only by a narrow walkway flanked by huge security guards. Surely he would not have walked up there by himself?
Why, yes. Yes he did. I tweeted this picture out during the show, after discovering him there. I think SueBob’s comment is my favorite ever:
“That’s a long way from Haiti”.
Indeed.
Thanks to Jillian and Scott for such a fun night!
(Oh, and for anyone concerned about Jafta: he did not, in fact, catch fire during the show.)
what I want you to know about post-partum depression
What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions. It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here. Today’s post is by Manal Khalife.
I want you to know that postpartum depression is real. I want you to know that I didn't make myself depressed, it wasn't all in my head and I didn't want to be depressed. I want you to know that just because someone looks healthy on the outside, doesn't mean I don't feel like I'm dying on the inside. I want you to know that telling a mom who's depressed that she "should be happy" she has a healthy baby, is not helpful.
I want you to know that depression hurts. Like physically hurts. I want you to know that when I say I want to die, I really mean it in that moment, and that it's code for "Please help me, I'm drowning and I don't know how to swim."
I want you to know that I loved my babies more than anything, and I wanted to hurt them some days. I want you to know, that some moms are just too sensitive to the cries and screams and it hurts our ears and our hearts. I want you to know that I can't cope in the middle of the night, and I need to catch up on sleep.
I want you to know, that you don't have to ask a mom who's depressed if she needs help. She does. I want you to know that if you do her dishes or throw in a load of laundry or sling the baby while she sleeps, she will recharge and feel more like herself.
I want you to know that moms weren't meant to mother alone. I want you to know that I love being a SAHM, but I hate being alone. I want you to know that just because I chose to be a mom, doesn't mean I deserve to handle it all on my own.
I want you to know that depression clouds my judgment. And makes it difficult to make decisions. I want you to know that depression is embarrassing, because society made it so. I want you to know that I'm not crazy. I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm cranky. I'm sleepy. I'm overwhelmed.
I want you to know that in the midst of depression, we don't know what we need. I want you to know that we seem so down and negative all the time, because we really, truly don't see an end in sight. We don't see the silver lining. It feels like life will be this way forever.
I want you to know that there ARE cures for postpartum depression. And I want you to know that giving up is not an option. Those babies need us. I want you to know that self-care is the #1 way to deal with postpartum depression, whether it's your health or taking time to do something you enjoy, to getting a babysitter every now and then to catch up with friends or run errands on your own.
I want you to know that antidepressants are ONE way, but not the only way. I want you to know that different cultures around the world honor the postpartum period in ways we could never imagine. I want you to know that we are special and we need society to mother the mothers during this time.
I want you to know that postpartum depression kills. Sometimes, literally. I want you to know what to look out for. I want you to know that reaching out for help is not weak, it's the only way. I want you to know that just like you would drop everything to help a friend, so too would they drop everything for you.
I want you to know that postpartum depression is not a lack of faith. It's not a lack of determination. It's not a lack of strength.
I want you to know that postpartum depression made me miss out on my children's babyhood and toddlerhood. It wiped my memory of their lives. Looking back, it's like that time didn't exist. At least 2 years gone. I will never get them back.
I want you to know that I'm grateful for postpartum depression, despite the pain it caused me, because it led me to where I am today. Having been hit with it 3 times, I know when it's coming, where it's headed and how to stop it, and I am grateful to God that I can spread this wisdom on to others, so that we can be the moms we were meant to be. Instead of the moms postpartum depression forces us to be.
the mighty mighty life list
Tomorrow, I’m catching a plane to northern California to attend this year’s Mighty Summit. Mighty Summit is an annual getaway weekend for professional bloggers and content creators hosted by Maggie Mason and Laura Mayes. I’ve heard it’s a life-changing experience from those who have attended before, and I’m thrilled to have been invited this year.
A part of the weekend experience is empowering each other to reach our goals, based on life lists we’ve written ourselves. A life list is pretty much a bucket list . . . the things you hope or dream or plan to do in this lifetime. Confession: I wrote a life list two years ago, when I first heard about the Mighty Summit and watched other writers publish their own lists. I thought it sounded inspiring and fun. I even got to cross a few off in the last year. But I never planned to go public with it. I didn’t even share it with Mark.
See, I have this awful personality flaw that makes it very difficult for me to announce the things I’m striving for, in case I don’t meet my goals. I’m a type-A, “get-it-done” girl. I don’t like to talk about things unless I have an action plan and an end in sight. This can be problematic, especially since I am married to a guy whose favorite thing to do is brainstorm and dream. In his family of origin, it’s perfectly acceptable to sit and chat about the restaurant you are going to open in Mexico . . . which prompts me into anxiety and running budget sheets and researching schools in Mexico, only to come back to find the conversation has turned to opening a café in a storefront in Kansas, and then my head explodes. And it’s not them, it’s me. I have always been plagued with a not-so-fun combination of literalism, anxiety, and pessimism. You do not want me on your group project.
Anyways, that was a rather convoluted attempt at explaining why I struggle with announcing my goals until I am 100% sure of achieving them. My life list is full of things both practical and whimsical . . . some goals that are realistic and likely, and some that are more wishful. There is some hesitation for me in sharing them, and some trepidation about going into a weekend where I’m going to be looking at them in the presence of some powerful women and analyzing how to make a few really happen. It’s going to stretch me . . . and it’s gonna be awesome.
Life List
Attend the Tony AwardsAdopt a teenager from fostercare
Write an unsentimental book for transracial families
Learn hydroponics (self-contained fish tank and garden ecosystem) and teach it to a third world village
Live somewhere outside the US for a year
See Indigo Girls in concert
Live in a downtown loft
Visit Buenos Aires
Be a guest on an NPR podcast
Backpack Europe with the kids
Learn to make “artisanal bread”
Figure out what “artisanal bread” means
Meet Michelle Obama
Smoke a cigar overlooking the Grand Canyon
Play Aunt Eller in a community theater production of Oklahoma
Find a permanent solution for my chin hairs
Be a writer for the Colbert Report
Take a cruise through the Caribbean
Take my adopted son back to visit his Haitian orphanage
Drive a VW van with vintage curtains
Tile the backsplash in my kitchen
Run a full marathon
Learn Spanish
Pay for someone’s adoption
Plant an avocado tree
Get a law degree
Take a weekly Sabbath
Dance with my husband at our 25th wedding anniversary party
Have a house with a mud-room
Rid my home of things made of primary-colored plastic
Sing back-up in a band
Learn how to surf
Visit an ashram
Write a children’s book about tolerance
Create a weekly meal rotation and grocery list
Play cards with friends in a retirement home
Go on a treehouse safari in Tanzania
Convince five people to adopt a foster child
Be a mom my kids want to stay in contact with
Write a parenting book that combines developmental psych principles with a conversational tone
Go back to the spot where my husband proposed
Give a TED talk
Learn to salsa dance
Open a private practice with my husband
Write a novel
Sing in a gospel choir
Take a silent retreat
Travel the US in an Airstream
Take a class at The Groundlings
Learn to use the function on my camera beyond “auto”
Put twinkly lights in my backyard
Sleep in a yurt
Go on a special trip with each of my four kids (just the two of us)
Host a foreign exchange student
Plan a fundraiser for a birthing center in Haiti
Be a court-appointed special advocate for a child in foster care
Eat at momfuku in NYC
Learn to paddleboard
Write a published piece of theatre criticism
Get a Ph.D. in clinical psychology
Get a massage overlooking the ocean
Hang some fancy wallpaper in a bathroom
Get a tattoo
Stay in a beach hut in Thailand
Be comfortable in a swimsuit
Host a dinner party (with placecards!)
Read all of the Laura Ingalls Wilder series to my daughters
Catch up my photobooks on Shutterfly for each year
Write a letter to a person who hurt me(sending optional)
Mentor a younger couple
Buy a pair of Jimmy Choos
Buy a bike and ride it often
Stay at a bed and breakfast in Ireland
Buy fancy linens for my bed
Have sex every day for a month
Tour the coast of Australia
Return to South Africa with my kids – go to the top of table mountain
Read every Pulitzer winner
Live within walking distance of the ocean
Go to the Sound of Music sing-along at the Hollywood Bowl
Raise chickens for fresh eggs
Own an Eames Lounger
blogging with microsoft live writer
A couple weeks ago I gave a little tutorial on how I blog from my iphone. I thought I would also share on of my favorite tools for blogging from the computer: Windows Live Writer (WLW). I am always amazed when I talk to bloggers who write their post within the native Blogger or Wordpress interface, because Windows Live Writer is just makes the whole process so much easier.
Windows Live Writer is a blog publishing application. It is a desktop application, so you can use it even when you are offline. You write the post on your computer, pick photos from your files, and then upload when the posts is complete . . . so there is no risk of losing a post in the middle of a wifi jag. It is completely free and has a variety of great extensions . . . you can add a facebook like button to each post, or pull photos from your flicker stream. There are any number of plug-ins you can add. But my favorite feature by far is how easy it is to see what your post will look like and crop photos and format text accordingly. WLW takes a snapshot of what your blog background looks like, and also saves the fonts and colors that your blog uses, so what you see is what you get. Here’s a little snapshot of me writing this post in WLW.
See how the space I’m writing in is the exact same size as the text box on my blog? It even shows my blog background. I love being able to preview as I’m writing.
I also love how easy it is to post photos. WLW allows you to add pictures to a post and then crop, frame, resize and watermark them before uploading. For example, if I wanted to add a cute picture of the kids, I pick it from an easy interface that looks like this:
I click on the picture(s) I want, and then WLW pops in into the post, remembering the sizing, frames, and watermark I’ve specified as default. In my case, it sizes the photo to the exact width of the blog, and then adds a shadow frame and a watermark of my blog name:
Now, let’s say I want to crop this picture down. I can do that right in WLW before I post. Like this:
Tada! You can also fool around with the color, brightnesss, and contrast. It’s no Photoshop, but it’s really nice for quick photo editing and posting.
You can also change the borders of each picture, or the watermark, with just a few clicks. For example, here’s my usual:
Lots of quick and easy ways to change photos. You can also manually resize photos just by clicking and dragging the frame. It also makes posting several photos at once really easy. You can click and choose multiple photos that will all appear in the frame, and it’s faster since everything uploads at once, instead of waiting for each individual picture. Here, I chose four pictures, and it gave me the option of having them all appear in the photo, or having them in a photo album grid. I chose inline, so it popped all the photos into the post, sized to my default, with a frame and watermark.
There are so many other great features. You can set it to remember hyperlinks, so that certain phrases always automatically hyperlink. (For example, when I type ShePosts and MamaPop, it just magically hyperlinks. Like magic). There is a toobar with the blog’s header fonts so you can choose consistent fonts if you are doing subheadings. It has spellcheck, it can post video, and it’s easy to move back and forth between rich text and html formatting.
For me, another great feature is that you can post to multiple blogs from the same place. I don’t have to log in and out from the different blogs I write for. I can even post the same post to two blogs at once. Here’s what it looks like if I decided to switch over to Mama Manifesto:
It retains the same formatting. I can switch between blogs from a simples drop-down menu, and I don’t have to log in or out. When I’m finally ready to post, I hit publish, and it uploads all the text and photos at once. You can set categories and can even set the post date and time to the future.
If you are interested in trying it, you can download it here for free.
Disclosure: I was invited to be a part of the Windows Champions program this year. I joined specifically because of my enthusiasm for WLW, which I have used for several years.
