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  • my lotus birth

    you know how people say that action starts in your mind? Like first you think a thing and then your neurons and stuff respond and then suddenly you’re moving? Yeah well labor was like that for me.

    Hi, I’m Vanessa and these are some of the snapshot experiences of my lotus birth. I hope it can help new parents who are deciding on the kind of birth they want to have and that it inspires you in the least.

    Cheers for reading, xoxo!



    So when I was about 36 weeks pregnant I went to visit a hospital that had birthing pools. My midwife agreement necessitated that I had a hospital on standby in case of emergency. The place I toured was really special and also had people on staff who had trained in South American belly massage in case the baby was upside down in the womb, needing to be flipped.



    The water pools they had in their birthing suites were really extraordinary. The rooms were big and bright and the feeling on the floor was overwhelmingly cheery. It was amazing to me that I had reached this point. I was having the baby without the father and it was emotionally painful and exhausting but ultimately liberating experience..The loneliness hurt though. In those rooms I imagined all the dads who had been there while their partner gave birth to rub her back or hold her hand or just tell her how she was such a powerful member of the human race doing the unimaginably divine thing of bringing forth life and how loved and respected she was..that kind of thing.

    It was a lot for me and suddenly I couldn’t wait to get out of there. While my mom beamed around the room I just wanted to go home and nap.


    Not long after that I was in danger of preeclampsia and got put on 72 hour bedrest. It felt like a prison sentence. The mental hurdle of accepting help was something that took a lot more time for me to move past. During my pregnancy I had been in school, organized a panel discussion for Native American Heritage Month, flown to the Caribbean for my gran’s 86th birthday party/family reunion, and learned all there was to learn about home birth, breastfeeding, and parenting as a solo modern mama. I also watched every episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians on E! for the first time ever, decorated a nursery by myself, adopted two kittens from one of my midwives and began to curate a new instagram collection on mothering. I was one busy woman. The one thing I sort of forgot to do was make new mom friends. Oops! Not like it’s easy.


    Anyway, I credit so much of what I learned in my final weeks of pregnancy to moms on instagram whose open childbirth, breastfeeding, and stortytimnes really grounded me and made me feel less alone and more seen and connected. To be honest, 95% of what I learned about breastfeeding was from those Instagram mommas. Those fearless and exhausted women who courageously showed up to connect and carve a path for women like me who otherwise did not have access to this necessary experience. Not breastfeeding – choosing and learning how to nourish new life while sustaining your own while in pain, bleeding, sleep deprived and … sweaty.

    So in studying and connecting with these incredible people I had learned about lotus birth but at first it seemed a little too crazy for me. As I got closer to my due date though I realized that it actually wasn’t crazy it was a little scary- how many choices I had- how much I was in charge of deciding for this brand new person and then I focused in on a post about Lotus Birth and that’s when I knew I was going to have one and that’s when everything zoomed into razor sharp focus for the next…6 and 1/2 years- apparently.

    Birth is the ultimate creative act and like with any creative act you have to remain open for those pictures to flow through. Or messages or paintings or whatever your medium of choice is. It’s like once I made that choice labor began soon after and things just fell into place. I mentally went into labor and the physical followed right after.

    This is not the time to share my birth story (again?). So after giving birth to the placenta I placed it in a colander and sent my brother out for dried herbs. He returned with lavender and salt and I poured them onto the placenta.

    I didn’t wash out the blood first which you are definitely recommended to do. that thick whitish beige cord attached to my baby at the tummy was a beautiful reminder that both of us had a lot of help for the previous 10 months and that there would always be a part of my child that lived within me now.

    The placenta dried out in a few hours and it took three days for the cord to pop off. It was miraculous.

    It is an experience I’ll have forever.

    One lovely benefit of a lotus birth is that the umbilical cord remaining atttached to the fetus then infant will allow the majority of stem cells and life affirming blood to keep on flowing right into that tiny new life. clamping the cord is just something that’s commonly accepted, it’s not necessarily the better way to do anything.

    Here is what it looked like:

    I feel really glad to be the first person I know who has done this intimately powerful experience. One of my ancestors from Greece died in childbirth. She was 12 or 13. Not long before my birth my aunt told me severely, “we didn’t come here so we could die in childbirth. You’re being selfish.” It landed with me deeply. I commended her for having the courage to tell me this to me face as it was clear it was something so many people were discussing behind my back. I thought of this ancestor a lot during labor and it was with profound pride that I shouted during my rolling contractions knowing that I would – that we would make it through my longest night.

    Just before I began to push my mom started panicking and threatening to call the ambulance which would undo not only this night of work but the 10 months of preparation and reading and … well, everything.

    I grabbed my aunt by the wrist and told her to talk my mom down before rushing to the bathroom for a moment of quiet calm to “figure out” what to do next. The beauty of birth is that there’s not much “figuring” to do. You just have to keep going. My midwife came in and mentioned something about needing to knock my mom out. I pictured the two of them brawling on the living room floor, took a deep breath, and went back to face my fate.

    I sat by the fire gazing into the flames before going back into my birthing tub and as I watched the sun rise I knew I had been given this baby and this experience for a reason. My journey was hard and scary at times-not always able to see in front of me since I was carving a path that no one in my family had yet been on- and it was beautiful and vulnerable and powerful, too.

    after the sun came up my second midwife walked in with a coffee and her presence sort of allowed my body to release just enough for those contractions to reach their zenith.

    It wasn’t right or what I planned on! I wasn’t in my birthing pool I was lying on a chaise lounge with one leg in the air but it was time for my kid to leave that amniotic nest and be introduced to oxygen in a new way for the very first time.

    His shoulder got hooked on my pelvic bone and my midwife later told me that that one positioning experience is the reason why some of home birth attempts fail because the painful placement is too much. She said I did a good job. Two pushes for my little baby and after that one for the placenta.

    I did start to hemorrhage kind of and the baby did need oxygen. Birth and death are sisters-twins-so close to one another. Birth is an initiatory and powerful rite of passage where one is extremely close to death.

    The recovery from that is a necessary process, too.

    That is all for today.
    Blessings.

  • belly strength

    some of you may know this already but my plan was to homeschool my kiddo rather than sending him to public school. That intention was built around lots of philosophical reasoning and preparation and the little cutie’s immune system.

    After plans changed and he entered into Grade 1 the pace picked up for us immediately.

    It’s been a very interesting shift and we have just now completed another innoculatory round of immune system initiation wherein we catch an illness every time someone blinks in my son’s direction.

    never having been in daycare, sitter, nannied, preschool, kindergarten et cetera, we were in our own pristine sort of vibe. A more metaphysical way to say it is that our aura was understandably vulnerable from lack of outside interaction.

    Now though as we are finally more appropriately integrated into a community it’s important to think about the journey that got us here.

    As I take the necessary experience of reviewing photos and videos from our early moments together I am full of gratitude and joy and even pride in my parenting choices.

    The one thing I wish is that new moms did have more support. I think of scenes in The Letdown and how beautiful a new mom support group would be. Would have been for me. I think when I have more children I will be involved in a thing like that.

    As I pull together a list of media that profoundly impacted me during my early matrescence I can’t help but be so impressed by all of us who choose to parent at this juncture. Who make the beautiful decision to shepard human life with wisdom and care and to sacrifice sleep and so much more to mold the future.

    Parenting is such a uniquely important lifestyle and I am so glad to be one among the ranks of this amazing bunch.

  • December

    officially my son has been in the American public school system for three months now. He is thriving and succeeding, as I knew he would do. As with most things in life, making the first move is the hardest part.

    It’s an entirely different experience for the two of us and I am a proud parent as these first grade chronicles continue.

    When I observe how he has acclimated to these major life changes I am in awe and full of wonder. I feel like we should all strive to be more childlike in this regard- taking new experiences at face value and giving them our complete attention.

    It reminds me the importance of trying new things.

    I wish I had more to write but I’m off to work.

    Happy Holidays to all the parents out there, keep it up, you’re doing great.

  • I n d e p e n d e n t do you know what that means, man?

    yesterday I put my kid on the bus to school for the first time. He rode it to school and back. It was not the easiest thing I’ve ever done and there definitely were tears. I am so grateful to the other parents in my neighborhood who helped us find the courage to complete this transition. He kept saying this to me, “mom, I’m scared. How will I know where to go?” oh, dear reader, it kind of almost put me in a state of shock. It was pure lies and bluster as I just kept doing my best to assuage his fears and anxiety, reminding him about the teachers and bus monitors and all the helpful adults around, not to mention kids, who could direct him.

    He was the last on the bus.

    And then, miraculously, this afternoon – he burst off that bus like a sunbeam bursts through the early autumn leaves on my local walking path, smiling and bouncy and full of life. He was talking about something I couldn’t even hear over the din of happy youths as he landed next to me.

    He had taken off his sweatshirt today and was just the happiest 6 year old I’ve ever seen.

    I handed him an orange juice bottle that I had brought with me and he drank some immediately and he was off – telling me about school.

    My mom coincidentally was on her way to work with a coworker and so he gave her a hug as well. He had been having some not – great experiences with the slide and so she asked him, “how were the slides?” before *I* could be anxious about her asking a potentially anxiety producing question right away he beamed, “I didn’t go on them today!” ahahaha.

    what a perfect and simple solution. at least for now.

    anyway, the kid I picked up from the bus stop and the kid I brought to the bus stop were not the same.


    I can say honestly and truly I am so grateful that I have parented the way that I have. With all of its challenges and hurdles there is not a single moment of his baby – to – toddlerhood – to “kid” that I can say, “I regret not being there” or thinking about missing memories.

    I held him so close and now that he’s going away he’s totally ready for it.

    This first week has been truly such a different week in my life and it has been exhausting. But here is my son showing me how he is writing his first and last name, making artwork, and socializing with his peers. It’s really wonderful.

    And somehow, despite all the odds, now, here we are, a healthy family in the autumn of New England, preparing for our first apple picking trip and vaguely thinking about halloween costumes.

    shout out to the parents but especially the mamas.

    happy back to school season, 2025.

    We made it! ๐Ÿ™‚

    ps. I need to make some friends, immediately (;

  • scar tissue

    I do a lot of self care and reflection work as a mom. My philosophy includes the idea that in order for my children to be their healthiest then I too must be at my healthiest. If you can imagine this includes all the kinds of healing. Nothing really ever pushes your boundaries as much as being a parent. As you learn your triggers and your glimmers it is a truly humbling experience.


    Closer to twenty years ago now than ten I had an injury that changed my life entirely. What began as a normal day ended with a spinal injury that I would eventually get surgery for but it took a year for doctors to agree on my treatment. Over the course of that time I felt more pain than I had known was possible. Physical pain absolutely but also psychic pain. A kind of shock from waking up and going to sleep in pain that no one should ever experience. That sort of relationship with pain will alter the way you think and the way you move through the world.

    It’s not so much a question of if you have addiction or not but moreso what level of torture is going to unlock that sort of begging for relief in you. Some people beg to go very high and chase dopamine in the form of sky diving or extreme workouts or even cocaine or maybe meth. Some people go deep into the depths of their darkness, isolating, using opioids, slowly, slowly finding a pain relief that has its own personal demons attached.

    In this way I think that everyone has a deep connection to addiction; the need to temporarily escape pain.

    The modern world has no time for grief. There is no time to stay home and mourn when life as you know it falls apart. You only have to keep going. And if there is no time to mourn and die then there is also no time to be born and expand. They are, as it is said, two sides of the same coin.

    But as the saying goes, when you don’t pick a time for your body to rest, your body will choose that time for you.

    There is no grief, no pain, without the capacity for deep feeling. We love people in part because their time with us is finite. We might not know when and how or where they will leave us, but at some point they will.

    Perhaps this is why humans have loved dogs as companions for so long.

    With their different sense of time, seeing us after a few hours away, brings them such an enormous joy. That and their loyalty is such a kind welcome for any person with a heart that beats.

    Plus they’re excellent hunters and alarm systems.

    I wrote about this more in my book, but during that year of pain before surgery, I was deep in a painful spiral. My ego played tricks on me and told me that I wasn’t addicted to the pain as a survival mechanism. I don’t know what would have happened if I had just stopped and felt the weight of a medical system that did not have my back (*see what I did there ๐Ÿ˜‰ .) and the crushing and all consuming weight of my spine, my physical, in this world, support system, also not supporting me in a less painful way. Some kind of collapse might have happened, I guess.

    My body unlocked something deep in my DNA that allowed me to survive but it did come at a cost. I refused to die or to stop and grieve but all of a sudden, one random afternoon many years later is simply all caught up with me. There was nowhere left to turn, nothing to do, but finally collapse and begin to understand the weight of what I had actually survived. I am very lucky because some people do not make it back after that collapse.

    At the time though I had this idea that because I was not on a street corner shooting up heroin it somehow translated to a moral success. It did not. There was something evil lurking inside my belief system somewhere that I didn’t even know existed that felt like as long as there was someone doing worse than I was I couldn’t be doing that bad, it could always be worse and I could always be doing that. It wasn’t until years later when people started believing anything about me that I could finally understand how painful that is. To be the one that someone points at like a tiger in a zoo, caged and contained in the expectations or ideas of another person who uses you like a human example; telling their children that if they don’t do x, y, and z, they can end up just like you. A sad anecdote to an unfulfilled life. In fact, the idea to compare oneself to another person is always rooted in that kind of ideology of supremacy.

    Whether we think someone is doing better than us or doing worse than us is always a line of questioning that brings us down to some pretty cruel places, and getting out of them is harder than getting in, I’ll tell you that easily.

    At once it can justify subjugation or subhuman treatment of another person or even groups of people or self satisfy our own need to feign helplessness when we are not ever truly helpless. It can give us an excuse to sit down and point the finger like that overused Leo DiCaprio meme that shows us that someone else had a better opportunity than we did and why should we even try?

    yeah. But I think somehow this is connected to the work of practicing buddhism. Working with the middle path. Literally not falling into despair because of a living faith. This is the work of all spirituality and religions. This is the realm of faith, of which trust is its child and humble pupil.

    Trusting that things will get better is a truly insane thing to do. It is one that requires faith in a different way of being. Faith that things will get better, perhaps that we will get better, that our pain will one day be less, and that one day things will be just better. This is the work of ancestral healing in fact, and this is the root of the work of parenting.

    Believing in the earth enough to hold something so massively important of your own creation. Getting up each and every single day with someone so new that they are a moving and breathing expression of hope.

    Once, I believed becoming a parent was the most narcissistic thing a person can do. Now I believe it is the most brave.

    So my mind is coming together after its long time in the trenches of pain and addition to quiet superiority and I can breathe again and show my face in the world again even if I do have a crushing anxiety as a result of these journeys to hell and back. I’m working on it.

    And randomly yesterday, my son who has a little cold which makes me feel like the most vulnerable person in the entire universe because I can’t just take his pain and sickness away, sat with me and was full of a bubbly, giggly, energy from not being outside all day (the damp, wet air and blustery gray skies were not conducive, ‘play outside‘ weather for a boy with a cold) and I was just tired. I just remembered something he said so I played a little game of harmless comparisons with him.


    Who’s the better streamer, I asked him, craftee or doodle and arkey?
    whose the better streamer, adley’s family or lankybox crew?
    who’s the better streamer, ishowspeed or mr. beast?

    Perhaps admitting that my son knows who Mr. Beast is, a man who is like an actual, living breathing, super villain, Lex Luthor, just bad man, shocked me into action, and I told my son we were going to check out ishowspeed together.

    Imagine my surprise when I opened instagram and saw these really powerful acts of human persistence and fun and joy.

    I mean, I watched as Ishowspeed jumped over 2 moving cars, and into this mouse trap that just got smaller and smaller.

    We watched for about thirty minutes before bed and really just had fun and were in awe. I remembered that we all have different dimensions, different limitations, and I felt proud to continue to live in a world where people with really just an idea and practice, can be almost anything they want to be.

    As a content creator mom, this is me too, and I felt glad to be living my beliefs and practices and being that kind of model to my son; That when you simply don’t give up, you can go so far as to create new genres – new ways of being here on earth.

    shout out to the internet, faith, creatives, and our physical vessels here on this planet.

  • love note


    I realize that as a mom I’m really hard on myself. I constantly like expect perfection from myself and at the same time wonder why my kid has these impossibly high standards. This is just a short love note to all the mamas to say that you’re doing a great job and to remind you to give yourself some credit and some rest.

    mothering is forever. so make sure you’re at your best for the long run.

    what are some things you’re doing this week to support yourself in your self care practice? let me know. See you the next time.

  • Sprunkis

    My son, like most of his contemporaries, has an unbridled addition to the screens. Like any addict it has led him to confuse, manipulate, trick and try everything in his power to get his fix. It’s a uniquely strange generational phenomena because my generation were the first to engage with the internet and social media in a lasting way, we shaped and founded and transformed it, and his are the first generation withYouTube established to what it is, with DoorDash and Uber and Grubhub, and with the existence of the kind of Artificial Intelligence that is accessible to most everyone’s fingertips.

    In my truest nightmare this addiction has been so seductively weaponized that it is actually a living party in our relationship.

    As a single mom I often used screens as an active participant in our mother son relationship and now I can’t get them to respect my boundaries – those screens, that is.

    One of my biggest concerns about his YouTube fixation (which makes total and complete linear and logical sense) is that there is a lack of … basic education needed.

    In my generation if a parent or guardian stuck is in front of a tv for literally 10 hours a day still the programming had to go through certain levels of processing before production. It’s a fair assessment to say that many if not all people involved in that era of television had some kind of broadcasting degree, which required schooling, which required years of being connected with other people – actual human beings – in person. A kind of basic human togetherness that I can’t believe we maybe took for granted.


    The problem here is that while systems of inequality are in existence you can bet that they will continue to flow effortlessly, and broadcasting, film and especially tv have been extremely male dominated fields. This left the editing and story telling with a certain kind of bias for a very long time.

    As a millennial and woman my relationship with all internet technology has been that exuberant joy of a young woman in the throes of a first real relationship.

    Always a little naive and excited and totally smitten.

    Undoubtedly what the internet has given us as it is technically still in its early evolution is something I can scarcely find the words to put down or that could be the fact that I haven’t had my morning coffee yet. Either way, the internet is a blessing and I have always stood up for it to wary and hesitant family and community members frightened of a new and changing world. The egalitarian internet, the equalizing social media, the self publishing accessibility, the new FIELDS of economy, the balance in work life relationship for chronically ill and disabled people. Everything. The way we can change the beauty standards and those same normalized and male centered broadcasting standards, and did.

    I love the internet.

    I love internet technologies.

    But alas, the very same reason I love it is part of what makes it so very dangerous. My generation has seen the worst of human kind unfold with these technologies from so called revenge porn and how it has impacted rising stars on their journeys to success, to stalking, cyber bullying, luring the young and or gullible into trafficking or cult situations, major new ways to scam.

    The beautiful simplicity of self publishing is why I can write this to you here and now but is also why anyone with a camera and internet access can become YouTube famous (hopefully I’m next lol) and weave their way right into my son’s pleasure centers of his brain without too much psychological understanding at all and root down.

    I was watching something one of my teachers, Mami Onami said, about one of the reasons why these things impact kids the way they do and I’ll try to remember and paraphrase to the best of my memory – I really. do need that coffee! Let me try to push through before the mombilities *get it like momma responsibilities? or rather, expectations of constant availability, get on my ass like those YouTubers get in my sons limbic system*.

    She was reading the work of another parent – researcher who said something like there are three things that affect kids to … play? Fear of fuck I really have to find and share the video for it to make sense. But these videos play on all these things kids should believe are daring – moving, fear of falling? maybe? and just… big transitions? And these videos have all of that stuff which sort of simulates their nervous system into thinking it’s doing something without actually doing something like, for instance, going on a hike with their mom.

    And I am not writing this for parenting advice, please understand that as a single mom the amount of unwarranted advice I have received since my pregnancy became public is so exhausting it is surely one of the reasons I am writing this from the relative cave of my bedroom. I Don’t Want Your Advice. Just clarifying, thank you.

    but again – as a child even if I watched PBS kids until it turned to PBS broadcasting in general I may have seen Zoom, Arthur, Zaboomafoo – shows that had a story arc, shows that may have been overseen by child educators or psychologists, shows that were essentially moving stories. And then adult programming which had even more stories, plots, characters – actors, actual people who had training to be on the screen and who were always interacting with other people.

    This new streaming era which I once again am a big investor in, and believer of, which is why I can critique it so sadly and truthfully – lacks that in a big way.

    Somehow in the last two years while my son and I were moving we slid out of the safe and familiar hands of PBS kids and into this new and dangerous territory. My son found a video that popped up of someone playing a Roblox game that we had played together and was instantly drawn in and enchanted. Before this time of moving, of long car rides and uncertain home hours – with all the repairs happening in the house before we moved I couldn’t always make dinner at home at the same place at the same time and this instability proved the perfect space for a tiny little YouTuber to sneak in and nest.

    Some of the channels are just animations of people screaming all the time over their gameplay. I understand the hypnotic familiarity of it as I am someone who loves to binge watch a show from time to time. Who doesn’t love a moment of that kind of artistic entertainment and loosening up of responsibility? But I will say again – these shows at even the most basic level go through a kind of vetting and production consistency check that some of these YouTube videos do not have.

    Not because of a lack of talent at all – but it’s kind of like the police policing the police.

    If anyone at home sees what an incredible market this is – my son’s generation – they can just record themselves and keep a young one’s attention and once they have it I promise you it’s really hard to get back.

    Offensive

    I’ve treated this addiction as any addiction and come at it from the perspective of harm reduction, knowing that withdrawal is the hardest part of getting clean from any substance. That withdrawal fever will have you lashing out in ways you didn’t even know were possible and that is what millions of kids are going through every day when they step into the classroom.

    Oh yes, I’ve done the reading and seen the studies. These videos create such big and constant dopamine hits that when kids get to school without their phones in the morning they are literally experiencing withdrawal symptoms and in some cases depression.

    Without going too much into my personal life I will also say that every time I have tricked my son into not being on one of these screens, in some cases actually carried him crying into a car to simply talk, read, listen to audiobooks or podcasts while he comes down, or prepared for that most beautiful respite – a hike with mom – my own mom has slipped in with a new screen in hand!

    It’s a different situation from me than you, maybe, being that I live with my mom and my son and the differences in our generation naturally cause friction, but this issue has driven such a wedge it could almost be considered war.

    I sneak away my own phone and say the battery is dead for an hour here comes grandma with the Nintendo switch. I turn off the computer for Roblox to make space for that glorious sunlight, here she is smiling with her tablet all charged up for him to use.

    I finally give up and shut everything off and he starts sobbing and weeping, in rushes grandma saying and scolding, “no child should cry like that what are you doing you kids never cried like that!” thus undermining possibly hours of work. And anyone knows that with addiction, every time that withdrawal is interrupted it gets harder, and every time an addict goes back to their addiction they run a higher risk of unintentional overdose.

    For me, I think we’ve passed that OD mark a couple of times. There are certain channels that my son will ask for that I don’t even fight him on right now anymore because I know that in order for us to get through the day (living with my mom) I can’t even turn it off, he’ll cry so deep and so loud that her response is actually more damaging to the process than allowing him to watch it.

    When I think of how we got to this point I know that it’s not about pointing fingers. I myself have a very obvious screen addiction and it makes matters more complicated because I run several online businesses. I know that.

    I finally deleted twitter (or X, I suppose) a few months ago, and in that first week I found myself relentlessly refreshing Threads to try not to feel like I was missing out. The truth is that I AM missing out but a little bit of that missing out has given my own brain chemistry a much needed break. Our human brains are literally not meant for this.

    I worry about crash out and burn out for these kids at the gentle age of 10. Who will they be, then?

    To me, the saddest part of these videos is that it has impacted my son’s speech.

    Recently I was moving too slowly for him (human paced, that is) and he said, “oh my godddd mummy, what is wrong with you, are you an idiot?”

    Ugh. Gutted, bro.

    It hurt my feelings so deeply, not even simply because of the language used but because of the casual nature with which he used this phrase I now understand that after an hour of watching this gaming video it is a normal and maybe slightly cool and exciting phrase to use for him. Not unlike how I used phrases and words in my youth that if they were uttered today would… well… just not be accepted in modern society.

    And it made me sad again not only because I was hurt that this word was in his vocabulary but because if he continues to use such a phrase he will be necessarily less empathetic and more desensitized to other people’s feelings. After all, these gaming videos exist off of shock value to hold your attention – duh, it’s gaming – and those old dialogue tv shows I was telling you about exist as art. To share or showcase a story or a vision.

    I’m unfailingly optimistic, as a general rule, so I’m not worried about my son at 10 years old really it was more of a broad sadness because I know who I am as a human being and as a mother and I know I can successfully wean him off of these screens again just not by myself.

    In my case, ironically, this means safe spaces where my son can scream and wail as though he is being personally hurt when he is going through withdrawal where understanding people don’t judge those tears as abuse or neglect but as an impending breakthrough.

    Spaces where my son can say, “Mummy, you’re such an idiot, you don’t care about me, what is wrong with you?” and people won’t rush in, clutching their pearls to correct him about etiquette and feelings, but just ask maybe if we need a glass of water while we wait for the storm to pass.

    It saddens me to know and understand deeply that the reason moms like me allow this kind of YouTubing into our family relationships in the first place is exactly because we don’t have that time. Capitalism is literally eating into our time and energy and we do need engaging support for our children so we can, I don’t know, poop, do laundry, make dinner, and plan for those beautiful outings into the great outdoors?

    On the positive side that same YouTube has brought us into contact with family channels we love, adore, and I endorse, such as Vooks, Cosmic Kids Yoga, Fat Cat Reading, Adley & G is for Gaming.

    I’ll say it again in case your altered and shortened attention span (like mine) let you forget already – I really love the internet. Those channels I mentioned are so cool and even Adley, a family gaming channel, has inspired my son so much. We do in fact, have our own gaming channel. My goal isn’t restriction, censorship, or puritan banning. I do think it’s good that we have YouTube in my family and in our house.

    My goal is just to reflect and lament out loud.

    Last week PBS’s funding was cut and it feels too sad to be true.

    In my son’s era we have Alma’s Way and Molly of Denali and Eleanor Wonders Why and Carl the Collector! We have so many brilliant shows crafted by educators, child psychologists, etc, that DO teach empathy, cultural sensitivity, that do show representation and that have made me as a mom of this generation proud to see what people can come up with together for the kids.

    I also give so much thanks for the podcast era that I found myself in – missing out on the sort of Joe Rogan of it all and coming straight here from radio to find shows like Circle Round which I have been playing for my son for 3 years.

    It’s just sort of intense as to have these battles – mom versus machine, as it were, and it is exhausting.

    I’ve taken the time as a SAHM with online businesses to cajole and gently remove those screens, sometimes taking hours to let my son cry and talk with me, but now as we move into bigger communities it makes me sad to know that we don’t always have the time to do that anymore and empathetic to realize that so many kids in his era have this same addiction.

    Like any addiction stigmatization helps no one.

    I just remain hopefully steadfast in the knowing that one day very soon my son’s offscreen habits will offset his onscreen habits and I wish that when that time comes he and so many others like him will be able to have a healthier and more secure relationship with this ever evolving and beautiful technology.

    I will be posting our YouTube channel soon because my son happily tells me that he is a professional gamer and already has a job and has in fact been saying that since 5 years old and who am I to stop a young entrepreneur from having fun and making money, but for now, if you can be vulnerable too, and your family is working through a YouTube addiction, I would absolutely love to hear it and talk about it with you.

    see you next time
    xoxo

  • Reading

  • Why Hearing My Kid Yelling Made Me So Happy

    Christmas is such a weird (read – exhausting) time for families, right?

    I had to step away from some of my high horse-ery about how all this shopping is extremely capitalistic and embrace the energy of being there for the kiddos.

    Photo by Valeriia Harbuz on Pexels.com


    In my ideal vision, massive family meals and gift giving and merriment and carols and music are a pretty regular part of society and don’t need to be relegated to only once a year.

    Also I think it’s important to note that a truly connected religious person will or should feel a connection to their faith practice on most days. Not every day – we all get tired or sad. But definitely most days, you know?

    Maybe I’m too stoic or cynical but really and truly I want most of us to feel the beauty that is at the heart of this holiday … more. Just more.


    That being said! It is finally passed and we are deep in the heart of a New England winter.

    Our Christmas was a sweet one. We went to see one of my brothers and two of his kids.

    We hope to see the third for Easter!

    But the kids played and shouted and ate and drink and descended upon Christmas tree beautifully wrapped gifts with a frenzy only young children can really honestly possess and it was a miracle.

    My brother spend all day cooking and I’m so proud of him!

    There were fireworks for the kids and it was honestly just a vibe.

    Photo by Elina Fairytale on Pexels.com



    But something happened which I’ve been processing I think since the day! And finally I spoke with my son about it last night and so finally I can write about it here!

    My son and his cousin are very similar in age – she is … nearly a year younger than him. And both of them are being raised by completely amazing and bold moms. Naturally these kids are being raised to feel the power of their voices and the gift of their confidence; to see that their confidence is an invitation and a blessing and nothing less. They also share a bloodline which is feisty to say the least!

    So needless to say they butt heads!

    I observe cautiously and intently, never wanting to intervene too quickly, hoping to give them the chance to put all of their life lessons to the test.

    Waiting to see if they can communicate to the best of their ability and also learning their limits and what they are now capable of.

    Their youngest trio member – her little brother and my son’s little cousin – is a year younger too than her, so two years younger than my son.

    My brother has a camera in his room which he can use to watch the kids so after a certain point we let them go upstairs on their own to play video games and drink juice boxes.

    The camera thing will be discussed at another time.

    But the point is they have some alone time and autonomy but are also safely supervised. Definitely a gift of the 21st century. A New Millennium experience!

    So from time to time the youngest little guy would show up in front of us, in the most adorable way, sipping a juice box, tattling and asking for help just like he’s ‘sposed to do, saying, “they’re mad.” or “they’re not sharing” and finally “they’re yelling”.

    My brother and little nieces momma had stepped outside to bring some presents to the car, and I was in the kitchen, when this tiny and adorable nephew appeared again, hair kind of askew over his eyes, juice box idly in hand, saying with the widest eyes, “they’re yelling.”

    I went to the bottom of the stairs and had about a 45 second, truly magnificent window, into this argument.

    My son would say, “it’s MINE” and his cousin would say, “NO, IT’S MINE!” then, “IT’S My TuRN!” then “NO! MY TuRn!” and as I was listening to gain some clarity and calm before running upstairs, triggered and upset and afraid – a trauma response and not a present or appropriate response AS thee mom. As I ascertained that they were doing their best to communicate non-violently and had also reached their limit of how they could communicate without some keys, resources, and grown up help, my brother and her momma stormed and flew in like a great parental tornado and my brother ran up the stairs. He got in the room and shouted, “Hey! Stop All This Yelling!” I chuckled and said, “well… that’s kind of missing the point. can’t really yell at them to stop yelling.” I turned to the mom and said, “I’m really glad they’re communicating in a healthy way.” and she chuckled kind of shocked and said, “That’s not healthy!” she kind of shook her head and I had a moment of awkwardness like omygosh I know yelling is not healthy for adults – but before I could start spinning out I just smiled and took a breath and followed my brother up the stairs.


    The situation was already calm by the time I arrived up the stairs and they separated for a few minutes – my little guy back downstairs to play with some new Christmas prezzies.

    But I was so proud of them!
    And I still am!

    Last night when I finally brought it up to my son he got really emotional. He said, “yeah because SHE took a sip of. my juice and forgot to ASK FIRST!” and we talked about it. It was a really good chat which will also be elaborated upon in the future.

    This is an important lesson in consent, kids, and why forced sharing is such a terrible and dangerous idea!

    But again – another time.



    The first reason I was incredibly proud of them, kiddo’s mom and dad, and baby nephew’s mom might be silly. To someone who didn’t grow up around domestic violence or the institutional violence or maybe just the dark ages of violence before YouTube it might seem silly or even shocking – but the fact that they weren’t hitting each other was so brilliant. They weren’t hitting one another, throwing things at one another, or otherwise using their bodies to convey distress and frustration – They were using their words! Their words were LOUD but they were literally doing everything in their power to communicate what was going on with them. This to be is a reason for celebration. And when younger kiddo heard the decibals, his first response was to come and get some big people help.

    Like – I’m sorry – what? Are we breaking generational curses over here or what?

    Ugh – I am so so proud of all of us!



    In my family there were certain communication blockages that sometimes were devastating. People couldn’t always say what they meant or needed and if there was yelling it wasn’t to communicate what they needed it was to fight. To insult or name call or be defensive – to instinctively try to protect oneself because one felt inherently and automatically unsafe! This was not the shouting I witnessed with our collective children that day.

    To say this was a miracle? It doesn’t feel like an overstatement.

    This kind of tiny human yelling was also the crux of the violence, upset, or awkward moments of the day.

    No one got sloppy drunk and harmed another either verbally or physically, no one was really body shamed, insulted, called out of their name or intelligence – I don’t think my brother was being facetious or ver the top when he called it maybe the best Christmas we have ever had.

    No offense.

    But it was really powerful to have this experience and although I didn’t show it then it made me very emotional and again, just extremely proud of all the parents and kids involved!

    Basically everyone was safe and I think it’s again nothing short of miraculous that we all could create those spaces for our children.

    I really want to take the time to honor my brother today as well. Now since we have beautiful sibling relationships like Shuri and T’challa I feel more ease in saying that my relationships with my siblings is one of my earliest and most important connections! And I didn’t always know that we would make it to a point like this. Sometimes I thought we could never be civil, let alone as friends or sharing healthy connections of love! It’s very meaningful and the fact that my brother organized and pulled it all together makes me feel even better.

    Our kids know how to communicate and trust the adults around them AND understand that their voices have power and that their voices matter.

    It was such a small moment but it will go down in my personal history at least as such an incredible marker of success.

    It was really a major, “we made it” moment for sure.

    I want to say that sometimes when people of all ages really truly want to communicate they raise their voices! Not because they don’t respect the other person but because they think it’s so important to express what they need, because they want SO BADLY to be heard and or understood and are feeling things so strongly.

    For me it’s so important to honor that and understand it. Not to run in and silence it out of some colonial notion of respectful communication but to actually pay attention to what is being said.

    For kids especially and toddlers they have a way different limit of … what they can handle! Things like holiday gatherings are notoriously overwhelming and overstimulating at some point to even the most well regulated nervous system.

    For me if I can remember it – I feel like times I may have been shouting and pushing or hitting kids as a tiny person, I didn’t feel like I could say how I felt, I didn’t have the vocabulary or language to actually even really name how I felt, and I felt so body conscious and insecure that I knew even if I did say what I felt it might be scoffed off or silenced.


    I did not see *any* of that in any of these kids.

    And I have to watch out too because when it comes to my nieces being assertive I stan so hardcore that I have to pause, take a deep belly breath, and remind myself that I’m the mom of my kid and not their cheerleader.

    No no, I’m mostly kidding! But I do become so exhilarated and beam with pride when I imagine these kids and especially young girls growing up with a ferocious voice I really feel content.

    When my son can tell me, “mom I feel sad when…” or “I am so frustrated!” or even if he sees me upset, “Mom! It’s okay, take some deep belly breaths, gosh!” I really feel proud of my generation and am reminded so much of the new era we are in and have helped to create.

    A time when emotions are not penalized and punished and most significantly of all where the phrase:

    A Child Should Be Seen Not Heard

    is a silly remnant of a dark past and not some beautiful adult code of ethics.


  • Parenting sans the beatings

    Like everything in the spoken and written language or word after some time and usage a phrase or word becomes either null and void or takes on a meaning and interpretation far bigger than the original intention.

    For me it has been my observation to experience this with what is referred to as, “gentle parenting”.

    When the phrase first came into my lexicon as a new mom during my early matrescence it had such a resonance to it. It was all so simple and clear.

    Since then it has shifted and devolved and become so much more complex. There is “gentle parenting” which is not “permissive parenting” and there is “gentle parenting” which includes yelling and there is “gentle parenting” which is passive and there is “gentle parenting” which has the meaning I originally took it to mean and so on continuing on for infinity.

    It is one reason why speaking multiple languages is really important and good for a person’s spirit. One language, especially English, can be quite limiting.

    so gentle parenting early on to me meant the kind of gentle and kind responses with a child that we all as human beings need and deserve.

    It is a way of being with your child that encourages love and patience and kindness, a way of compassion and mutual respect.

    Although I love this method of parenting, I have since been strongly reminded that it and in fact we do not exist in a vacuum.

    In fact, we live within systems and human governed laws and social mores which are the reason something like, “gentle parenting” exists in our lexicon in the first place.

    To me ultimately this style of parenting is one which primarily relies on responses and not reactions. A way of being that fosters a child’s confidence and is encouraging to an entire community.

    There is a loss and sorrow in this path. I have spoken and written about it often, but traditional African and indigenous family values place a system of family, community, planet, as a holistic living energy. Something which in my experience values children quite highly.

    IN my experience as a mom so much of the re-styling of these energetic practices has been bundled and made primarily inaccessible by way of financial means.

    For instance, like many dreamy moms, I studied what kind of school system I would like my child to be invested in and Montessori was of course at the top of my list!

    It soon became clear, however, that Montessori schooling is (with all due respect!) the repackaged parenting of indigenous cultures, made modern by it’s capitalistic barriers and it’s schoolroom settings.

    Of course there should be tools and tables which are for children to use, and of course children can cook and speak.

    This has been brought home in a strong way every time I am shown videos of young children in Asia – in china cooking a meal on a wok, in Japan on that show where two year olds walk into the grocery store two miles from home and do the family shopping, et cetera.


    It has to be said (since capitalism will exploit anything) that I am not referring to Child Labor or Exploitation! I am not speaking of the American way of having children in clothing factories or in mines or in fact in supporting the kidnapping and enslavement of children in mines or chocolate farms in Congo or Ivory Coast to make Christmas special Black Friday iPhone updated sales seasons.

    No. I am speaking of recognizing the light and sovereignty in children and allowing them space to shine, grow, and be and understand their roles in a healthy society.

    The issue then lies in the fact that we actually do not live currently in what I would call a healthy society.

    And so the work can be arduous.

    Rewarding and fulfilling and the work of generations but still very much work.

    So if I say nothing if my two year old throws a toy in rage – so as not to reward his rage but to allow him space to feel his feelings, to hold space, to talk about it later, and to wait for him to remain a state of calm – this process is – I find – constantly interrupted by outsiders watching, complaining, interfering and suggesting that I am “lazy parenting” and stepping in to chastise my child.

    Not only does this undermine the *entire* process of what I’m doing but it also shows my son that I must be an idiot and someone else must know something I don’t. In this instance in fact, the louder person ‘wins’.

    It’s been very taxing teaching my son in this manner when all other manner of folk feel invested in correcting what they perceive as my infarctions. Additionally, I have found that children are inherently triggering in a non-child focused, money making, capitalistic colonial society. Children are often viewed as some kind of inconvenience. This is very strange to me but also incredibly sad!

    Children are, in fact, our future, ands should be honored as such.

    And so the work of unlearning, relearning, recorrecting and adjusting continues on this path of, ‘gentle parenting’.

    I learn as my child learns and at the end of the day we begin and end with love, with respect, and with communication. Verbal and otherwise.

    This is very meaningful.

    if you like my work please like the post! peace xoxo

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