AmazonMidwife

My whirlwind week continued. CHOICE was one of the sponsors who brought Jennifer Block to town, to talk about her book, Pushed: The Painful Truth About Childbirth and Modern Maternity Care. (Here's a link to her blog.)

She was mainly preaching to the choir. But I was able to take away this idea: "We have to start saying to our friends that we think their decisions about their births are a bad idea." I have always refrained from that, because I know that women need to give birth where they feel safest. But the current state of obstetrics, as it is practiced in this country, is, in many ways, unsafe. Yet I see and hear of so many competent women, who question authority adroitly, who research and educate themselves tirelessly when making choices, just putting themselves blindly in the hands of their OB. The only thing I've found so far that may partially explain it is this link, which the 'Savant sent me last week. It could be; I've always thought that oxytocin had a pheremonic quality.

Not being able to squirt hormones up the noses of my friends, I have found that it is folly to tell someone else that one thinks they are making a bad choice. Throwing down that gauntlet rarely gets someone to change their mind; instead it usually causes a defensive reaction that intensifies their commitment to the decision in question. But telling a friend "I am worried about your chances of having the birth you want in the hospital." can be a good way to open a discussion and do some educating.

So, what's going on?

"Fucking hell, where have you been?" you might be saying. And if you're saying it with a British accent you might be Eddie Izzard, or one of his devotees. I am quite the devotée (yes, with an accent aigu now that I've lifted Alissa's idea of copy-n-paste-ing it and have been ever since Mama Dee introduced me to the Dress To Kill soundtrack a few years ago. Ever since I started teaching the history classes I've been waiting for us to get to the period of the British Raj so I could show them the following:

And that will probably happen next week. But I digress, ( á l'Izzard). I've been waiting on some pictures (as well as time) to post this entry. Here's what happened:

So, about a month ago the 'Savant told me that M. Izzard was coming to town. The tickets had already been on sale for a month and there were no good seats left without paying scalper prices, which seemed a bit much, esp. after we had just went to see Billy Joel. So, Mama Dee and I decided, with heavy sighs, to forego the concert. (It was also an office night, and I had appts. as well.)

But, as the concert grew closer, I kept muttering (and sometime even whining), "I wanna go see Eddie Izzard." Finally, on the day of the concert, the 'Savant manifested a single ticket and told me to go, that he wasn't all that interested and was fine with staying home with the kids. (note to self: repeated whining works) I bowed to the will of fate, canceled my appts. and went to my closet to find something spectacular, yet comfortable, to wear. What does one wear to see a (gorgeous) transvestite comedian perform?

I was less than 6 feet from Eddie Izzard for 20 minutes while he did a Q & A at the Palace stagedoor after the show tonight, (which was brilliant BTW.) He's gorgeous and quite nice--better than cake. Can you name the show that featured that bit?

In other news, soccer is over!!! and next Sunday is the end of both the Our Whole Lives class and the regular religious ( 3rd grade) education I help teach at church. I might have a bit more time to blog, if I can get the kids caught up on all the schoolwork they've not had the time to do during the spring season.

Finally, here's the link to the radio interview on waterbirth that I helped do last week. They did leave out my enormous gaffe about water purity in India in the broadcasted version, but mentioned it in the printed edition. Next time, when asked whether water is clean enough for birthing, I'll just say (after coaching from Lindsay), "We drink it and that seems to work out okay."

...because I do so much housecleaning I know these things (or even this thing.)

HOW TO GET BEAUTIFULLY PRESSED TABLECLOTHS WITH NO IRONING!

1. Wash tablecloth (but not as the label suggests, on gentle cycle, 'cause that never gets out the catsup spilled by the children.)

2. Hang wet tablecloth over clothesline strung in the basement for cold/wet weather. The weight of the cloth will pull out any wrinkles.

3. (this is the important one.) Leave now-dried tablecloth hanging in basement for the next week or so, walking through it to hang up other clothes forbidden the dryer. (hey, I hate it when my cottons shrink.) Rant repeatedly at children for trying to use the CLEAN tablecloth as a tent. "Can you even fathom all the work I do?" martyr line can be used with...no effect at all, because the kids have already tumbled to the fact that mom has lost it.

4. Whisk tablecloth from the line up the stairs and onto the table without crushing/wrinkling it minutes before guests are due to arrive and...Voila! ( I sooo need a keyboard with French accent marks) No pesky fold lines or those superstition-provoking death omen diamonds!

starts today. I'm also going to be curtailing my computer screen time to 30 minutes/day, time enough to check/answer email and our library accounts, but not time enough to blog or read blogs. So see you next week!

P.S. Went to the Billy Joel concert tonight and it was magnificent!!!. I so love classically trained pop musicians. Guess I'll have to analog and actually write an entry that I can type in next week.