Just when I start to convince myself that humanity as a whole is good and loving and caring, I get a few news stories thrown in my face to counter that argument.

I’ve been really feeling the love since this past weekend. HBM’s mommy-blogger love-fest was a huge hit, as can be seen by the awe-inspiring number of bloggers who joined in. I thought to myself, maybe the world isn’t so screwed up. Just look what can happen when a few people get together to spread a little love.

And then I read this over at Diary of a Reluctant Housewife. And my jaw dropped. Someone is actually encouraging white people to have more babies to counter the number of minority children being born. Can someone really be so racist and stupid as to suggest something like this on national TV? And can a network be so insensitive and backwards as to let this guy keep his job?

Babies are babies. It doesn’t matter if they’re black, white, green, whatever. And a person’s skin color doesn’t determine what kind of a person they are, or what they will become. So Mr. Moron, get your head out of your ass and apologize, OK? Or do us all a favor and NOT reproduce, so you won’t pass on that level of hatred to a new generation.

OK, just one person, right? Oh sure, I mean, W. manages to depress me nearly every day, but that’s become a constant in my life. And besides, the more his public favor numbers drop, the more hope I have that some have finally seen the light.

But then I just saw this news story on Yahoo headlines. A small town in Missouri had a law on its books preventing more than three people who are not related to live together. I assume this was put into effect many years ago to prevent homes of prostitution. But it is now affecting unmarried couples with children. A couple with three children were not allowed to move into their home because of this law. So they took it up with the city council.

Sounds simple, right? An antiquated law on the books, ignored for years, just like all those other laws prohibiting sodomy, dressing your dog in clothing, and smoking on the third Saturday of the month when there’s a full moon. Here’s the twist, though: the city council voted to UPHOLD THE LAW! As in, they believed that unmarried couples should not be allowed to live in their town. Now, in this little town outside St. Louis, unmarried couples with children will face eviction. They’re essentially being run out of town for not getting married.

Gee, I wonder what this town would do to a gay couple? I think they might bring out the torches and pitchforks for them.

Again, I am baffled by the stupidity in that town. So just because a couple chooses to not get that legal document declaring them a committed couple, they are not allowed to live in your town? A piece of paper does not guarantee a happy relationship or raising children properly. Aaron and I got married, but it was because we both wanted to. There are those who don’t see the need for the paperwork and can be just as committed to each other as any married couple. Besides, with the divorce rate hovering at 50%, it’s clear that marriage is not the cure-all for society’s ills.

So I do still believe there are nice people in the world. I’ve met some of them, and I like to think myself one of them. But I also know that there are plenty of nutjobs to go around as well. These two stories are just the tip of the iceberg.

As promised, today is meme day. I was tagged by Mommy Off the Record last week, and now I’m finally going to make good on it.

So, without further ado, take a peek a little further into my soul:

I AM: a woman, a daughter, a wife, a mother, and a blogger. And I have a t-shirt so no one will forget it.

I WANT: Aaron to get this job he interviewed for.

I WISH: I could stay home more with Cordelia

I HATE: George W. Bush and all his cronies. Oh, and people who think mommy bloggers are a waste of bandwidth.

I MISS: all my friends back in Oxford, OH. We never get to see them enough.

I FEAR: crazy people who are willing to kill others over a belief in something that cannot be proven one way or another.

I HEAR: that Farrah hairdos are making a comeback, and I don’t like it one bit.

I WONDER: if having curves will ever come back into style?

I REGRET: not taking more classes on writing when I was in college.

I AM NOT: a 40-something overweight single man pretending to be a mommy blogger to prey on young moms. I swear.

I DANCE: rarely now, but I used to do Irish dancing.

I SING: along with musicals all the time in the car.

I CRY: at those “Having a baby changes everything” commercials.

I AM NOT ALWAYS: as interactive with my daughter as I should be. I confess to letting her watch TV so I can get things done.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: nothing food related, that’s for sure. I’m a lousy cook.

I WRITE: better than many, based on the message boards I’ve read on the internet, but not as well as many of my peers.

I CONFUSE: Aaron with my ability to change my mind in an instant.

I NEED: more sleep. (Doesn’t every mom answer this question with “more sleep”?)

I SHOULD: hurry to finish this list and get back to work.

I START: (or rather, We Start) trying for our second child later this summer, I hope.

I FINISH: each post wondering if anyone will read it. (Low self-esteem, you say? Why, yes!)

And now I must tag others, as these little games go. So, if you’re reading this post and thought, “Hey, that was kinda fun!” then you’re tagged!

Oh, and for those who want to see my happy dance: I’d like to say I dance like this, or maybe like this (I LOVE this video), but sadly it’s more like this in reality.

The strangest thing happened this morning. I woke up and squinted as I glanced at the window. What is this bright light? I looked out the window, nearly blinded as I wondered Where did this big glowing ball of fire come from? Then I remembered it was the sun, which I haven’t seen in five days. After five days of nothing but clouds and rain, it’s easy to forget about the sun.

It was only a brief appearance, however. The sun gave us a quick morning light, then spurned us as clouds and rain returned. I was thankful for this unexpected appearance, however, since we weren’t expecting to see the sun for another week. Yes, it’s going to continue raining here for another week. Plus it’s going to stay colder than normal. You’d think we lived in northern Scotland, and not Ohio.

************

Mother’s Day was OK here, aside from the rain and the cold, and Aaron’s grumpy mood. He spent the entire weekend in a funk, for some unknown reason. We visited with my family for the afternoon. My mom was thrilled that I got her a subscription to Bee Culture magazine. (She does beekeeping as a hobby.) I received the Chronicles of Narnia on DVD, plus a box of chocolates from Aaron. Choxie chocolates, my favorites.

My crazy great aunt continued her weird gift-giving habits, and from her I got a small tin of off-brand mixed nuts and a boxed cake mix. Yes, a cake mix – some assembly required. Then again, I should have expected something like that.

After a miserable Friday and a so-so Saturday, Cordelia was in high-spirits, even though she still didn’t feel good. She put on a brave face, however, and gave little indication that she was still sick, other than eating and drinking very little. We’re still dealing with diarrhea, but it’s not coming as often now, thank goodness.

I still need to make flight reservations for Blogher. Anyone have any tips on getting the best deal possible? I hate paying so much for a flight when the prices are changing so often. I worry I’ll make the reservation, and then the next day the price will be lower.

Also, speaking of Blogher, just a reminder that today is the last day for Sue’s contest over at Red Stapler. If you’re even remotely considering going to Blogher, get over there and make a comment on any of her recent posts. It’s that easy!

I have to say that the mommy blogger love-fest over the weekend was so heartwarming. It was so nice to see the compliments and goodwill towards each other. Far better than some of the mean-spirited posts others choose to make in the name of “satire”.

Sure, we all love the comments. I’ll freely admit that every comment I get makes me do a little happy dance. But knowing that your writing is making a difference to someone else in some way is an even better feeling.

Next post for me will be a meme that I promised Mommy off the Record I would do last week. Stay tuned.

PS – Aaron’s interview on Friday went well. Now we’re in the uncomfortable waiting stage. Keep your fingers crossed that he gets the job!

Nearly 6 months ago (well, 6 months on May 20), I started this little blog with big hopes. I first discovered blogging via Blogging Baby a few months before that. I stumbled on that link by accident, but I was sucked in to that site. The posts were excellent, thought-provoking, and all about my favorite topic: being a mom.

Becoming a mom was one of the hardest and one of the best things I ever did. The early days are hazy to me, but I do remember struggling through post-partum depression, being amazed with this little child who needed so much from me, and feeling terribly alone. Many of our friends with children don’t live in our area.

Our other friends are awesome, but they didn’t have that understanding of the change that had happened to me. I had a new life to nurture: realizing that, it’s easy to obsess over motherhood, especially with this being my first. I found myself with less to talk about, because I consciously didn’t want to bore my non-parent friends with all the details of what Cordelia was doing each day. Sure, I was thrilled when she lifted her head, but I know it isn’t that exciting to a non-parent. And I knew they didn’t want to hear about poopy diapers.

I was on an online message board community for moms, but even there I felt lost in the sea of message threads. I made a few friends there, but it was difficult to keep up with people in a message board format.

Blogging Baby was just the beginning. I became enamored with the writing of particular contributors, and so I checked out their personal blogs. They were witty and sarcastic at times, and I was relieved to find people who could look at parenthood as being absurd as well as special. From there I started to realize that there was this large community of mom and dad blogs, some funny, some touching, some both. I decided I wanted to take the plunge. I wanted to be a part of this community. I desperately needed a mommy group to belong to, and I wasn’t having any luck in Columbus, so I figured virtual would have to be the next best thing.

Her Bad Mother has asked us all to write posts in honor of Mother’s Day, giving some love to those mommy bloggers who have touched us in some way. This is a huge task for me. For while I write a lot about myself, the truth is I have a hard time opening up to others about my true feelings. Just when I start to get close to someone, I pull back and become detached. Saying how I feel is so tough.

I blame it on my mother’s family and their genetics. They’re as stoic as they come – they show little emotion, never hug, and certainly never say things like I love you or other vulnerable statements. Like my dad’s side of the family, I am a fountain of emotion, but like my mother’s side, it often doesn’t show and builds up inside. Which leaves me dying to tell people how much they mean to me, but then finding myself at a loss for words when the time comes. It’s why I find it so very easy to make acquaintances, but then have a difficult time shaping those superficial friendships into strong, deep friendships.

So please forgive me if this post is a mess and doesn’t flow well. It is very important to me to honor the mommy bloggers who have become my virtual support group in so many ways, but just as the words have trouble forming on my lips, they also have trouble getting to my fingers.

First, I have to give a big thank you to HBM for lighting the fire for this project. I don’t think there’s a single post of yours I haven’t enjoyed. You are thought-provoking in ways I haven’t dealt with since graduate school, but the difference is you are interesting and amusing as well. (My grad-school books? Not so much.) And hey, you’ve got Siamese cats, so you’re always cool with me!

Queen of Spain was one of my early favs. I don’t even remember how I found her – probably through blogroll jumping. She reminds me of me, or well, the me I want to be. Hip, cool, a fabulous writer, and two adorable children. I swear her husband and Aaron are clones, which is why the two of them must never meet or the universe will likely implode. Good thing Aaron isn’t coming to Blogher.

Izzy is like the big sister I never had. I feel like I could go to her to find out where the cool kids get their stash and how to sneak back in the house past curfew without looking like I’m totally wasted. And just recently I got to hear her awesome voice, which just confirms how cool she is.

If Izzy is like a big sister, then Mrs. Fortune is like a little sister to me, even though I think she’s the same age as me or older. Following her pregnancy has helped me to remember all that I enjoyed in mine. Plus its given me the chance to unload all of my useless advice on her! I love her for being patient and actually reading all of my blabbering on about the best nursing bras and other mom-to-mom advice. (Or maybe she’s not reading it – I understand that, too. I tend to say too much when it comes to advice.)

I think Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored has probably done the most to bring me out of my shell. She’s such an outgoing, in-your-face type of person, and her posts make me laugh and make me feel more comfortable opening up. Her monthly Blog Exchange has also helped me broaden my reading horizons and find more interesting blogs.

There are also so many new blog friends I’ve found in the past few weeks, along with several others who are old blogroll companions and I can’t get enough of. Violet the Verbose is one of my new favorites – we both worked at renaissance festivals, and anyone who has been a rennie knows that the bond between rennies is strong. Truthfully, anyone who is on my blogroll is there for a reason, and if you’re looking for some good reading, check them all out.

So there it is. Looking over my love-fest, I realize I’m still not saying all I could be saying. Maybe I’ll open up more to those I see at Blogher. (after a few drinks, of course) But know that everyone on my blogroll and all my readers make a difference to me.

Who knew that the common experience of motherhood/fatherhood could bring so many intelligent, humorous, and caring people together from all over the world and from all different backgrounds. I love it. I can only say: pass the Kool-Aid, please.

I wish you all a Happy Mother’s Day, and I hope you get all the rest and love you deserve! Oh, yeaahh!

Cordy is sick. Last night, she had a blowout diaper right in the middle of Once Upon a Child (local resale shop). I thought it was a one-time deal, and she seemed OK when I put her to bed last night.

This morning I woke up to the sounds of her crying. Now, her morning routine generally involves waking up happy and singing/talking to herself in her crib for awhile, so this turn of events struck me as ominous as best. (WARNING, those with weak stomachs may want to skip the next few paragraphs.)

I walked to her room and opened the door, and before the door was open more than a crack I knew there was no good coming my way. The smell. Oh god, the smell. Sour milk mixed with a sewage facility mixed with toxic waste. I braved the foul odor and went towards the crib. There was Cordy, still in her one piece PJs, but completely wet, sitting up sobbing. I turned on the light to better examine her, and realized she was covered from neck to toes in goopy poop. Her diaper had put up a valiant fight to contain it all, but had failed miserably. The mess had exited that region in all directions, in the front and in the back.

(As a side note here, isn’t it funny that once you become a parent, you suddenly can classify all of the different types of poop out there? Something you never gave much thought to before is now one of your expert fields of study. It’s like we’ve become poopologists – we can judge a child’s health simply by the size, smell, and consistency of their poop. From this morning’s coating of poo, I can tell you Cordy is ever so not well. Watery, light yellow, and a smell that would make a skunk gasp.)

I carefully lifted her under her arms – one of the few non-soiled places on her body – and holding her at arms length, carried her to the bathroom. Yes, I carried my crying child at arms length. I love her dearly, but I was not about to hold her diarrhea-covered body against me. I do have some self-preservation, you know.

Aaron was taking a bath at the time, and his bath was rudely interrupted by the poop show. He got out and refilled the tub for Cordy as I took on the task of stripping her sleeper off of her. This mess must have exited her body sometime in the night, for it was dried in places, making removal of the sleeper all the more difficult.

Oh god! I said as I saw her skin underneath the cotton. Her body was covered in a red rash from where the higher concentrations of poop had settled. Some areas were just a little red and blotchy. Other areas were dark red and starting to welt. We quickly got her into the bath, and I decided to join her because she was still crying hard and wouldn’t let me go. It was clear how dehydrated she was – our little chubby brute actually looked gaunt standing in the bath.

After the bath, we took her downstairs and tried to calm her down. We rubbed her down with moisturizer and diaper balm, then quickly put a new diaper on. She wasn’t appreciative of our efforts. A little TV therapy worked, though, and soon she was glassy-eyed watching Jack’s Big Music Show. (Thank you, Tivo!!) She drank two sippy cups of juice and water, and ate a few bites of waffle. Another blow-out diaper then followed.

The next step for me was dealing with decontaminating her room. I went back to the scene, but had to quickly leave when overpowered by the scent. I wondered if haz-mat teams make house calls, or if we could at least borrow a haz-mat suit. Don’t we have some Oust somewhere? Aaron asked. No, we’re out, I replied, I’ll find something.

The only thing I could find was a pocket spritzer of Eucalyptus Spearmint pillow mist from Bath & Body Works. Good enough, I figured, and walked back into her room spritzing away, like some police officer fighting criminal smells with my pocket spritzer handgun. All of the toys, blankets, and sheets went into the washer. I wiped down the mattress just in case, and put fresh sheets on it.

The remainder of the morning was spent watching Playhouse Disney with Cordy on my lap. While I normally don’t let her watch too much TV, she’s sick and doesn’t want to play, so I’m happy to help her forget that she feels so bad. This kid never wants to cuddle, so if she’s spending an extended amount of time sitting with me, I know this isn’t just a little bug.

She’s currently upstairs napping, and I’m crossing my fingers that I won’t find any more toxic surprises when she wakes. Cordy hasn’t been this sick in a long, long time. It’s hard to see her feeling so bad, and knowing I can do little to help. Changing her diaper is the worst, because in trying to help her (cleaning her off and applying cream) it causes her pain, which in turn makes me feel awful.

Isn’t it amazing that when our kids are sick, we have an inborn ability to shoulder that pain right along with them? If I could, I would gladly take all of the bad she’s feeling onto myself so that she could feel better.

PS – Aaron is currently at his interview – thanks to all who are sending him positive thoughts!