An Open Letter to the Minor I Told Off in Scipio

Dear Misguided Youth of America (well, not all the youth... just you, that kid that asked me to buy you cigarettes at the "Eagle's Landing" gas station on our way to St. George last night.)

You approached me as I was picking out a water bottle (since the H2O I packed had spilled all over the car. I know I know..."30 minutes on a treadmill, forever in a landfill.")

"Uh Ma'am?" You began. "Can you do me a favor? I left my ID back home, could you buy me some cigarettes?"

Oh wayward youth: you asked the wrong person to help you break the law.

"Absolutely not." I shook my head, and your eyes widened with confusion. "It's a terrible habit and it can kill you and..."

But you interjected "It's only killing me... it's only affecting me." Though I didn't let you finish...

"It's not only killing you, it puts toxins in the air and the second hand smoke affects me and my baby."

Your eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of your head...incredulous, your mouth dropped open wide and you starred at me as if I was crazy; then looked at your friends for some sort of validation regarding my sanity (or lack there of.) But I continued:

"It's a disgusting and terrible habit. It drains resources from our already depleted health care system, it's a burden on health care and it can give you cancer AND it can kill you. It's a selfish habit and you need to stop."

(Like most of America, I've apparently got Health Care on the mind.)

You mumbled something to your friends about 'picking the wrong person to ask' and probably added some derogatory comment about me... wasn't quite sure, didn't really care...

I paid for my water and let the ladies at the counter know you were a minor and trying to have someone buy you cigarettes illegally.

And I felt high and mighty, like I had stopped some sort of scandal...but then karma (and my conscience) caught up to me ...and I'd wished instead that I had told you that you were too young, with too much ahead of you to be wasting your time with something as ridiculous and habit forming as 'smokes.' That there are little kids -- your cousins, or maybe nieces and nephews that look up to you... and that your example (or lack there of) could make the difference in more lives than you know.

I wish, instead, that I would've reinforced that your whole life is ahead of you... and if you're asking your buddy (brother?) if you can get a PopTart for 89 cents (and he says, 'we really can't be spending a lot of money'), that smoking is probably not the most prudent financial decision at this juncture in your life. Maybe I wish I would've said that...

Or maybe I wish I just would've said, "No, I'm sorry. I care about you too much."

And left it at that.

The Bookshelf

I think you can tell a lot about a person from the books they read. Maybe even more so from the books they collect.

To me, a book collection is like a directory to the soul. Similar in status to one's CD collection or vintage vinyl spread. And how you house your collection says something too.

I love books.

I love to pile them all over the place.
I love to stack them according to genre and place them in conspicuous places as to tell everyone that enters my home 'hey, this is what I value.'

Like when I was single (and incidentally listening to a lot of indie riot grrl), I wanted to make sure my copy of the Feminine Mystique was in a spot that couldn't be missed: usually flanked by Hillary Rodham's 'It Takes a Village' and my 'Human Sexuality' textbook from my Freshman year at UVU (then UVSC)just to keep people guessing (and apparently to keep me single well into my late twenties.)

When Danny and I were first married, we showcased our eclectic collection most appropriately for our other downtown mormon-hipster DINK friends: CS Lewis, Harry Potter, JD Salinger, Marx, Jane Austen, a hodgepodge of Talmage & FARMS, as well as a plethora of Andy Warhol Pop Art books, my music anthologies (Kurt Cobain's Journal, The History of Rock and Roll, etc) and a few of Danny's sports books as to look like I wasn't the ONLY one contributing to the collection.

Which is what makes our bookcase at the entrance of our house that much more interesting these days. Tucked away on the inconspicuous shelves of our sun room are our copies of the Bhagavad Gita (yes, we have more than one), all things published by anyone with the last name Clinton or Obama, the Feminine Mystique is around here somewhere (probably next to well worn, and no longer needed, copies of "He's Just Not That Into You" and "The Rules")... Yoga books, philosophical and spiritual texts, the Twilight Saga and HP, Management and team building books, Dan Brown Novels, and satire from Michael Moore and Stephen Colbert...my chick-lit and other oddities are smooshed into the back bedroom's dresser shelves; but they're not in our front room.

No, these days you won't find the sacred texts of Eastern Religions, or even our reprinted copy of the Book of Mormon - First Edition on display in the front room and entrance to our home. Instead you'll see my Grandmother's two shelf bookcase that now houses three of Maurice Sendak's contributions ("Where the Wild Things Are," "In the Night Kitchen" & "Outside, Over There") a collection of Baby Einstein Picture books (thankfully I never did invest in the videos), some Junie B., a a trifecta of Eric Carle (You know, 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' and "Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See?"), "Gallop" and hodgepodge of peekabo picture books and flap-tastic options.

The bottom shelf now houses my parenting books:

• 1/2 the Dr. Sears Library
• Hypnobirthing - by Marie Mongam
  
• What To Expect (When Your Expecting & The First Year)
• Raising Baby Green - By Dr. Greene
• The No Cry Sleep Solution and a bunch of other 'experts' I soak up and then try to figure out what feels right for me as a parent...

But if you came to my house, looking for my guilty pleasure reads like Sophie Kinsella, or either copies of Bridget Jonses Diaries, you'd be sorely disappointed. Not as disappointed as my husband is with the sudden disappearance of the Kama Sutra(?) ... I kid... (Danny, it's in the kitchen cupboard where you left it.)... Ok, now I really kid.

But my point is, our priorities have shifted. Just like my taste in music is more Simon & Garfunkle these days than Sleater-Kinney, our bookshelf has received a deserving makeover as well. Like I said, a book collection can be a directory to the soul -- and I think that direction is exactly where I want to be.

Holy Crap!!! (Part 2)

So I am feeling a little pride in my cells (I know, I will repent later)... you know, the kind when you get a little giddy and feel like you have a secret to share because there is so much excitement in your body and it feels like your cells are dancing?

My old boss at SkyWest used to say that drinking fresh squeezed orange juice from Market Street made her cells dance.

Anyway, remember how I just told you about my (so-called) crazy EC experience? Did you even notice that a FAMOUS person posted in my blog comments?!?!?

Laurie Boucke... seriously LAURIE BOUCKE?!?!

That may not mean much to you, but she's pretty much a famous celebrity in Infant Potty Training circles. Call her the Potty Whisperer. (Danny said it's funny who I'm considering 'famous' these days in the new circles I run in.)

I knwo you don't know whether to take me seriously or not, because just a few years ago I was writing for travel magazines about swanky resorts in Oregon with 800 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets and martini bars, but I can't help but be honored to have her comment on my blog.

Feels really....validating, you know?


Oh, and in case you didn't know -

-I voted for Obama
-We own a Subaru and up until a few month's ago had two of them
-I also have been known to use crystal deodorant from time to time (I have to play mind games and tell myself that it 'works' or else my armpits will not get the message and -as Junie B. Jones would say = 'smell like stink.' Just wanted to clear that up; my mom said I offended a bunch of people.

I love you people. Thanks for spending some time here with me, my busy brain and my antics.

Holy Crap -or- Eliminate This!

Today the house is super quiet. We've already vacuumed, swept, straightened, pumped and eaten -- twice. And now Holden's back asleep for another nap so I will use this time to address you (although, I should probably be thinking about something healthy and organic to make for dinner.) Too bad what sounds good is 'french fries from Crown Burgers.'

OK, so today I hosted an EC meeting. That's right, for those of you new to the blog, EC is short for Elimination Communication. Read all about it:
Here or Here.



So like Le Leche League and other Mommy-Support-Groups round the world, EC has their own variety. Meetings are held once a month at different locales through out the valley; and I volunteered my home for January because 10am is right smack in the middle of Holden's nap time...and since he's finally on some semblance of a routine, I figured it would be much easier to host a few mom's and kids than to juggle and stress about sleep.

So obviously I was a little nervous to be hosting a 'Diaper Free Baby' meeting. You kind of picture in your head what that means... a snapshot?

• Imagine 15 little babies running around in split crotch pants (or just FREE?!?!?) signaling 'potty' and then just using my hard wood floor to 'do their thing'
• Since we only have 2 bathrooms and one's off the master, there were not enough "potty's" to go around
• I asked Danny if he wanted me to call the carpet cleaners immediately or just wait until the stench had really sunk in...
• Cloth Diapers strewn about my living room -- some clean, some not so much
• Crawlers and Toddlers wrestling over the Baby Bjorn potty and seeing who could throw the insert the farthest: my wall and my lamp lost that contest.
• Mother's in COMPLETE denial about how CRAZY their children were/are!
  
• They were the worst kind of hippies - liberal ones. I think most of them voted for Obama, and they drove Subarus -- or worse, hybrids.
• The scent was so pungent (whether from the babies or their unshaven armpits adorned only with crystal deodorant I did not know...) but my eyes started to water.
  
• Since the babies were all diaper free, the adults finally just joined in and we all took off our pants too...

Yes, I'm obviously joking.

The meeting was actually the mellowest play date I've ever been privy to. The two mom's (plus moi) and the five kids played great together. In fact, not one child cried in the entire two hour period!!! And they all had on training pants/underwear or diapers. I mean the babes obviously; I didn't actually check to see what type of undergarments the other mommies were wearing.

We talked about the joys of EC - how we're so grateful it's stress free, and what a great parenting philosophy it is (being in tune with your baby and listening to your child's signals). None of us are hard-core ECers, so we've each adapted it for our lifestyle.

We talked about the trials of breastfeeding, how we've incorporated co-sleeping on some level and discussed our L&D's (labor and deliveries).

We compared baby carriers...discussed our favorite slings, et cetera (and how overrated we think Baby Bjorn varieties can be.)

The kids shared organic snacks and Holden kept giving Lucy (the darling 9 month old) hugs...she is the same size as his cousin Faye, so he's been practicing 'giving loves'. Maybe he was flirting?

After about two hours of visiting and playing, the party broke up and mom's departed with tired but quite happy kids en tote. The house was still in tact -- a few crumbs here and there, and some toys to put back; but nothing out of the ordinary.

Holden was stoked -- not only because of the fun playtime-- but because we got to vacuum twice today...and that makes him even happier than waking up with clean pants after a nap.

Holiday Pictures - FINALLY POSTED!

Well, I finally got our Christmas and New Years pictures posted to FB. But, of course, in true Suite-Mangum style, I will give you a little snapshot of what the album entails.

The highlights:

Our little Reign-Dear on Christmas Eve... It was indeed a Christmas Miracle he kept the antlers on long enough to catch this picture. Sure he doesn't look too thrilled, but being adorable is hard work (at least that's what I remember from the golden years.)

I think Holden looks old(er?) in this picture... maybe it's how he's wearing his shirt is (all cool-guy sleeves rolled up, etc), or something. But for some reason or another, I really like this picture. For starters - when did my hair that long?!?! (We just chopped it two years ago!) And my cheeks are all sucked in so it takes away from my Christmas (and post-preggers) belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly (is self-deprecation still 'IN' for 2010, or is it passe?)...Either way, praise for you soft lighting, kabuki brushes and bronzing powder.

I already blogged about this once... but my wrapping creations felt like they were getting more creative, and better looking with each passing December day. I felt like Christmas Eve under our tree looked like an artistic mess.

Christmas Day at Holden's Great Grandma's (G.G. as we've deemed her, for 'Grandma Great!') He's sporting his new digs he picked out at the Children's Place outlet in Saint George and a knitted cap his Daddy wore in his youth. I mentioned on fb that I think he looks like an extra from Leatherheads --if George Clooney(sp) and Rene Zelwegger(sp) were babies. I liked that movie; Danny slept through it. That has nothing to do with Christmas.

Just settled down for a long winter's nap?
Before we even made it to GG's, we took a detour on the Holiday Express and stopped off at Danny's parents (more presents?!?!? Goodness gracious!) Holden was exhausted but managed to work in a little nap on his Aunt's Bed (thanks Anne!). It's times like these I am so thankful I have *good sleeper... it seems like all the kid needs is a car seat or a mattress (any mattress mind-you) and he can snuggle in. (A lovie and an adult to cuddle with does wonders as well.)

Christmas Morning with the Cousins.
Mama Suite and Grandpa TOM (The Old Man - my old man, that is) gave the Suite grandkids PJs Christmas Eve afternoon. We went over to my parent's after we had opened our presents at home.

New Year's Eve was spent up at the Mangum get-away in Eden.
The place has plenty of room for Holden; and Danny's parents had brought ALL THREE DOGS! Which is a total treat for Holden because he, like his father and most of the Mangum side of the family -- extended and all --are all dog lovers. Me? I love animals, and am happy to give money to the Sierra Club, etc to help protect God's Creation... but I wouldn't really say I'm a dog lover. Yeah, I wouldn't say that at all. But if you're going to have dogs around, at least these ones don't attack my child when he tries to 'pet' them and instead rips out their hair or tries to take off a dog ear (we're still in the teaching mode.) So the dogs were there, and Holden was in heaven. Danny was in heaven because of the Big Screen TV the size of Texas in the basement.
It was also Holden's maiden sledding voyage. The preparation looked like a scene from 'The Christmas Story." Thankfully the kid EC's so I could potty him before the 30 layers were on. All that for about 8 minutes in the snow.

Happy New Year All.

*Good sleeper is really a relative term, isn't it? But I really feel like what we have 'works'... so to each his own, eh? And a shout-out to 'The No-Cry Sleep Solution" for the blessing it's been for us.

I can't put my arms down!

I'm Doin' It..and doin' it, and doin' it well (maybe?)

So how to begin this post? How about...
I'm joining the Mominatrix Sex Revolution!?!?!

Yeah, I'm not actually sure if you want to keep reading this entry (especially if you're say, like my Father-in-Law or something?)

Here's the deal, my friend "Marie" (we'll call her that for sake of the story, and because well, that's actually her name)... but she's been a BFF of mine since like 6th grade, and she's the author of Make and Takes (which is like one of the most frequented Mommy Blogs on the planet -- remember I got to guest blog there once?!?!) Well, she turned me on to this website: Mominatrix.


And I started thinking, I always said I wasn't going to turn into one of those Moms who let life get in the way of ... well, you know.

For the most part I had considered myself somewhat of a sexually-charged individual... but there was really no way to absolutely tell until marriage.

Losing your virginity to your spouse is like being a kid and getting the greatest present in the world on Christmas (or your wedding day)... and all you want to do is play -- day and night (thank goodness for Honeymoons, and Saturdays... and bless me, every other day of the week as a newlywed.)

But eventually life happens... and then you get cable, and life shifts to uneaten brownie batter on the couch and gaining way more than the Freshman 15.

Can you say Fattie?

And then you're preggers, and have a baby and find yourself muffin topping in every piece of clothing you own.

There's more, right?

Then there's the nursing bit (or pumping in my case). Believe me, nothing kills libido like being hooked up to a machine for an hour every day being 'milked' like a dairy cow.

Oh, sweetheart...you find my oversized chest attractive? Awesome, let me just unhook myself from these plastic nipple shields and we can get busy. (Have I crossed a line? I've probably crossed a line, eh?)

So thank you Mominatrix... I will give this a go.

Like I mentioned, Holden will be one in less than a month. It's time to do my best Gene Autry and get back on proverbial saddle again.