CPS Visits and Other Family Fun

I am living my worst nightmare.
Today CPS came to my house and opened a file on my family.
For neglect.
I'm not even joking.
Are these people for REAL?!?!?

Apparently one of my neighbors doesn't think I should let my children play outside.
Basically, the CPS lady said it's OK for The Boy to be outside if he's going from our home to another home, but it is NOT ok for my kids to just play in the driveway and especially not ok for Zsa to be out there at all.

I don't know about you, but I find children that are hovered over have no real chance to exercise their imaginations and get truly involved in make-believe. The only other outdoor space we have is encased in 7 foot cinder-block walls. How is that at ALL appealing for anyone's imaginative play? Also, just because it APPEARS that I'm not watching, doesn't mean I'm not watching.

Why wouldn't whoever reported me just come TALK to me first? Maybe get an understanding of my parenting philosophy and THEN make a judgement call as to whether CPS was justified.

I am a stellar mother. My children have clean clothes to wear, a safe place to sleep, and healthy food to eat. I read to them daily, provide educational and age-appropriate toys, take them to music and swim classes and teach them about Jesus. I don't beat them, emotionally abuse them or allow them to be with people I don't fully trust. We provide a stable and loving environment in which boundaries are set and enforced and everyone's teeth get brushed. I'm June Cleaver but with a clue and some common sense.

I am ticked off and terrified all at the same time. Everything I am right now is tied to my role as Mother. My extra curricular activities consist of birth circle and babywearing meetings. I cloth diaper, for crap's sake! If that's not the sign of a devoted mother, I don't know what is. And today, someone came into my home, sat on my couch, and said I wasn't any good at this calling I've devoted my life to for the last five years. The essence of who I am right now has been attacked and I'm angry as hell. Even though I KNOW I'm a good mom, a tiny voice in the back of my brain is saying, "what if they're right? What if I'm doing it wrong?" Darn you, neighbor. Darn you, CPS. Go rescue some kids who actually need it.

What do I do? What would you do? In family court, you are guilty until proven innocent. So as far as CPS and the state of Arizona are concerned, I'm a neglectful parent.

Alcoholic Tax Deductions and Other Random Thoughts

1. Do you think I could claim a fifth of vodka as a medical expense in my itemized deductions? You see, I found out that I can take one of my placenta pills and turn it into a homeopathic mother tincture from which other tinctures can be made but a full half of the ingredient volume in tinctures is high proof alcohol. The other half is water. I'm pretty sure I can't claim water as a tax deduction. I know half alcohol and half water sounds like there's no room for the actual medicinal ingredient but it's a homeopathic remedy. The whole premise of homeopathy makes no sense.

2. Not loving the new blogger "look". It may be time to take my creative writing over to a seriousblogging site. Like wordpress or one of those other sites for liberal hacks.

3. Now on to the good stuff. CJ. Today I put her in a pink and white thick striped onsie. She looks EXACTLY like a personified version of A.A. Milne's Piglet, which is fitting, considering the last two days all she's done is hog my boobs. Seriously. What if someone else wanted a turn?

4. The Boy is starting to feel neglected. Every time I sit down to feed the baby, he sidles up to me with sad, puppy dog eyes and says he needs some snuggle time. So I hold my baby in one arm, a big boy in the other, and generally do so while Zsa crawls up onto my back. Heaven help me if we have another kid. Every square inch of me is already occupied, as you can see.

5. Speaking of Zsa, this is her latest, "10,8,11,6! THAT'S how we spell APPLE!" Seriously, is that not the cutest thing ever?

6. I signed The Boy up for online school starting in the fall. In the end, I decided I'm just too lazy to train the swearing out of him that he'd pick up in kindergarten so I'm avoiding it all together by schooling him at home. Hopefully before he starts I'll learn how to spell kindergarten without spell check. Ferills.

7. Erin, you may know this, but your blog went private. What you may NOT know is that it's KILLING me not to see the cuteness that is Carolyn on a weekly basis. I may have to break down and actually order your book so I can get another dose of your writing. Do you hear me? WITHDRAWALS!


(feel free to add me to the people who can read it, m'kay?)

Things Zsa Zsa Says

The other day, CJ was in her buzzy seat while the bathroom was undergoing detoxification. She started to fuss. Not wanting to interrupt the procedure unnecessarily, the parental unit in charge of said HAZMAT cleanup asked Zsa to talk to CJ for just a moment. This is frequently a employed tactic to get 60 more seconds of SOMETHING done.
Obligingly, Zsa wandered over and said, "Hi Clara Jane Swain. I'm Zsa Zsa. I have dollies." Cutest thing EVER.

Grandpa gave the kids memorial coins for Arizona's Centennial. Zsa calls it her big BIG penny. She calls quarters and silver dollars big pennies, as well.

Going into the store today she said, "Mommy, my shadow is coming, too!"

What Do You Mean, "It's Been a Month"?

My goodness. Are you all feeling ignored? I've been truly horrid at updates of late. Partly because I'm stymied by the picture aspect. I need to add text to some pictures and I just haven't had two minutes to do so and the desire to attempt it occurring in the same part of space and time. Also, husband keeps hogging my laptop. Oh, and I can't justify the time to blog when I'm failing at my primary rolls of mother and wife.

Lucky for you, the cosmos have conspired to align and give me time to jot a few things down today.

1. CJ is in the 90th and 95th percentiles for weight and height. She's never had a drop of formula so, go boobies!

2. Placenta pills have an aftertaste and should only be taken at bed time. It's not that the aftertaste is unpleasant, exactly. It's just that I know that's what it is and I've had enough problems with the thought of taking the stupid things that an aftertaste is kind of a deal breaker. Nobody can deny these puppies work, though. Zero post partum depression, zero issues with milk supply. That's not something I've been able to say before.

3. This was my first week back in the gym. Muscle memory ROCKS. I'm already starting to get the definition back in my shoulders, arms, and butt. The abdominal area is another story entirely. It's complaining rather loudly that it doesn't know how to do very basic things. I tell it to shut up and grow a pair, and it yells back about nerve damage, blah blah. Then I tune it out and MAKE it do a sit up anyway. I NEED my core if I'm ever going to bench press more than 60 pounds.

4. The Boy has figured out how to ride his bike, thank goodness. Now he has something other than TV he loves. Also, now we can put him on bike, the girls in a stroller and roller blades on our feet and get an actual workout as a family. :D He's pretty speedy.

5. An old guy stopped me at Costco to ask if I had my baby strapped on with a curtain. Pretty much made my day. I love how wearing my babies in wraps seems to completely confound a whole subset of the population. Confounding people, in general, makes me giddy.

6. Cloth diapering is AMAZING. Honestly, it seemed rather overwhelming and kinda gross but it's FUN. I get sad on days I don't I get to wash and hang the diapers. Every three days I'm EXTRA happy because I get to make clean diapers!

7. I finished some coordinating skirts for my girls. Without patterns. Or knowing how to sew. When I get them both in the skirts at the same time, I'll take a picture. Can't promise it will make it's way on to the blog, though. You'll just have to take my word for it that they're super cute.

8. Now CJ, who has been eating pretty much since the crack of dawn and JUST gave me a break, is saying she needs more booby time. Growth spurt, anyone?