Tag: journal

I’m really glad that I wrote Alice and the Warden.

Since I’m expecting #6, I’ve been ravenously hungry for stories about pregnancy and babies. Heck, I even watched Bridget Jones’s Baby, even though I don’t remotely care for the subgenre.

Unfortunately, the majority of stories love to revolve around the “pregnancy is shameful and/or dangerous!” trope. Either female characters are moaning about how their life is over, or it literally comes close to ending because of some pregnancy related complication.

Aaaand it doesn’t stop there. After the baby is born, there’s the constant complaining about how a helpless human needs someone to care for it — as if being depended on is the worst thing that can happen. “Woe is me! I can’t be selfish all the time anymore!”

It’s so sickening.

Especially because I know women who are like that in real life.

Me? I’m the sort of person that wears jewelry that depicts pregnancy. I firmly believe in honoring the Divine Feminine, and rant about how our Christian-normative society demonizes the most powerful magic women possess: the ability to create new life. Not everyone thinks that the very existence of humanity is something shameful.

While the homebirthing community has plenty of women similar to me, none of them are writing novels. Too many of them have gone off-grid, I guess.

I’ve spent the last several months trying to find decent stories about pregnancy and babies, but now I’ve given up. I’m reading my own novel.

Alice is so sweet and loves her family so much, it’s like a breath of fresh air. Finally, a character who is full of hope and doesn’t hate everything about life.

In a very literal sense, I wrote that novel for myself.

The religion I grew up in didn’t permit drinking coffee. We were often told about how it caused all sorts of ills, ranging from cancer to stained teeth, and everyone who loved Jesus should faithfully refrain from even thinking about the devil’s drink.

After I officially left that religion, coffee was one of the first things I tried. I’m not going to lie though — that first cup was a major disappointment.

Thankfully I ended up married to a man who knew a thing or two about coffee snobbery, and he taught me to think better than chain coffee stores. I’ll just say that we started roasting our own beans over a year ago, and there’s no going back. 🙂

Sometimes I like to sit with my hands cupped around my favorite mug, and wonder what’s supposed to be so evil about starting every morning with coffee. Of all the horrible wrongs in the world, why make a big deal out of something so harmless?

I like the ritual of brewing a cup for my husband and myself every morning, and topping them off with a dollop of heavy cream. I like taking the time to meditate as I transition into starting the day, to get myself into the mindset of being up and about. I like how it gently motivates me, without the jitters and sugar crash that comes from sodas.

So far, my teeth haven’t developed any staining.

And let’s be honest: there was no hope for me before I ever tasted my first drop of coffee.

So … I’m tired.

The last time I had a baby, I took a break from the entire internet. However, since I’ve hardly been around for the last several months anyway, I’ve decided against doing the same thing this time; I’m nicely cloistered from the happenings of the world as it is.

That said, I’m moving into Spring cleaning mode and nesting instincts at the same time — I want to air out the house and prepare for a new baby, and I can only manage so much in the day with a giant parasite growing inside me. XD

On top of that, I already have two birthdays happening inside my “full term” window, so it’s going to be fun. What can I say? I just love chaos. Keeps life interesting.

Even though I’m not officially on break, I’m not going to be around much either. Probably even less than I already have been.

Because I’ve got a lot going on at the moment.

Windy last night.

It wasn’t destructively strong, but it was the sort of wind that howls and blows ice straight into your bones.

I can’t sleep when it’s windy. I always end up wide awake, listening to every gust, and wondering how long it will take for morning to come. For some reason, I get the mental image of giants outside …

We ended up with the one-year-old in our bed, and the four older children camped out together in one of their bedrooms. The wind bothered them, too.

I couldn’t help but think about how lucky we are, that no one has to be alone when they’re scared.

We caught another virus, and this one has left me feeling So. Very. Drained.

It’s been pretty bad this winter. We finally got around to checking in with some of the other parents, and apparently, our family has had it comparatively easy. Others have been hit considerably worse with a variety of illnesses, ranging from COVID to pinkeye.

Yikes.

The only thing to do is to surrender to the chaos and take things as they come. And get plenty of sunshine and vitamins.

One of these days I’ll get around to doing something.