What Not To Say To A Woman Who's Lost A Baby

This public service announcement brought to you by a reflection on the fact that I just told someone I was expecting "number 3," and a random memory of one of the rudest things anyone has ever said to me without meaning to be rude:

If a woman tells you that she's expecting baby number whatever, and if you know that she's experienced one or more miscarriages in the past, and if you know that the current baby count does not take those miscarriages into account,

...

DONT CORRECT HER ABOUT THE NUMBER OF CHILDREN SHE HAS.

Trust me. She has not forgotten her lost baby or babies. There's not a day she doesn't remember and miss them and wonder what life would be like if they were here for her to snuggle now.

She's engaging in the sort of manners that include unspoken rules about not talking about your dead children at, say, a wedding reception. And it's also probably a little bit painful for her to talk about. And it's not your pro-life duty either to be the voice for her unborn children or to make her feel awkward and guilty for not having counted them, as if the only way a mother can love the babies she lost is by telling her heartbreaking story to everyone who will sit still for long enough to listen.

Here's what you do instead:

Say "congratulations."

We're back!

Faithful readers (of whom I'm shocked I still have a few - seriously, who is still googling "afriendlyhome"??? I haven't posted since MAY! I'm touched, really I am.) know that has long been a dream of the Friends to have a small, self-sustaining farm. We had hoped that we had that opportunity with our last housing arrangement, but that turned out to be unexpectedly short-term, so this fall we left behind the fruit trees we had planted and the spring irrigation system we had designed, and struck out on our own again. Thank you to everyone who helped us and believed in us during that period. We're back to the dreaming stage again, dreaming of a bit of land that's actually ours this time, and the freedom to turn it into the permaculture farm of our dreams.

Here are a few of the things we're dreaming.

Image source and story

This is a house made out of a shipping container - you know, the big metal boxes behind Walmart. That sort of shipping container. Apparently it's becoming a big thing in the eco-world. They're sealed and weatherproof, they have a strong frame, and all you have to do is cut out your doors and windows and put up your insulation and walls. Best of all, they're recycled. Shipping container homes give a new life to something that's worn out its usefulness carrying loads of plastic things we don't really need from China. They're honestly ridiculously tiny, but they fit together like Lego blocks, and people weld them together to create large and luxurious eco-friendly homes. Luxurious homes with corrugated metal on the outside and no drafts at all. We're not looking for a mansion. We just want enough room for the five of us.

I mean, it's an idea, as long as we're dreaming, right? Whatever we do, whenever we manage to get a bit of land of our own, we won't be hiring a conventional contractor to build us a standard house. Sorry if we gave anyone the impression of being normal, but at least now you won't be confused in the future.

Also, permaculture.

image source

It's the future. I mean, unless we want to be extinct in a century. Not to be melodramatic or anything, but most people who don't live under a rock are aware that we're skipping merrily toward destroying our entire planet, and we Permies think that the only way to save it is to begin treating our ecosystems like ecosystems again, instead of continuing in our false and failed beliefs that we can just keep treating our earth like a factory. Permaculture is an entire philosophy of life, not just a farming method, but I'll send you to the excellent links above for more information, and save my pontificating for another possible future post, if I ever get around to it.

Ryan's also become super interested in soil microbiology.

image source: The Soil Doctor. Highly recommended.

If he has anything to do with it, our future dream farm will have more microscopic living organisms per square inch of soil than anywhere around, but I'm going to let him manage that on his own because, well, I hate dealing with stinky compost. And if you tell me it's not supposed to smell bad, I'll smile and nod and imagine telling you to come take care of my compost your own darn self if you think you can make it not smell bad.

I'll leave off with our current dreams, because speaking of things that smell bad, Ion just crawled by with his diaper. Good to see you, let's not get this out of contact again, shall we?

What happens at my house

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bq7bbchkh5k&feature=youtube_gdata_player


Sorry I can't embed videos from my phone. Clicky clicky!

Why I haven't blogged in forever

"I have an idea. You scream bloody murder while I pull all the blankets off the couch and the keyboard off the computer desk. That should REALLY make her crazy."

"ok go."

Early morning art

Drawing time!

The toddler and the infant

A certain sweet big sister toddler tries to be very helpful in our house. She offers her own bottles to baby brother as a superior replacement for the yucky stuff the brother is eating. She gives pacifiers to the brother, but sometimes she misses and ends up trying to stick the pacifier up the brother's nose. She puts blankets on any part of the brother's anatomy she can reach, including over the face. She rescues brother when he cries, and sometimes she pulls him out of his swing and bumps his head. (guess who never gets to be alone with her brother unsupervised anymore). She pushes him in his stroller toward hazards such as fences and, um, ponds. In fact, if it weren't for all the snuggles and kisses, I'd wonder if she weren't trying to kill him.

He knows he's loved, but with so much love of that sort he sometimes worries about whether he'll make it to his first birthday.

Don't worry, bub. Parents are certified affection referees.

Besides, Heidi's too busy going on adventures to terrorize you ALL the time.

Farming is a Family Affair

Participating in Wordless Wednesdays http://www.wordlesswednesday.com/newhome/