Monday, 15 November 2010

Today, I tuned into KFAI 90.3 and listened to the oddly-named program Truth to Tell. Today they were having a discussion on the rising popularity and pro-vs-cons of home births. Included in the discussion was one of Jennifer’s midwives, Kim.

Near the beginning of the show, host Andy Driscoll said that listeners were welcome to call in with questions or comments, which is radio short-hand for “you can either listen quietly to our program or you can frustrate yourself trying to get through for the next 60 minutes.” I opted to not call in.

But someone else did call in: an obstetrician named Dr. Jennifer. She’s from Minneapolis. She was pretty much the lone dissenter of home births during the entire show. Driscoll explained that he invited nurses, midwives and doctors who perform hospital births to join in the discussion, but they all either turned him down or refused to answer his calls (hmm…red flag #1).

Anyway, Dr. Jennifer argued that hospital births were preferable by asking a question: she asked if home birth midwives were able to care for birthing mothers who experienced [insert random, unlikely problem here]. I can’t recall the medical jargon she used – so esoteric, in fact, that Driscoll had to ask for a definition – but one of the problems she mentioned had to do with tearing from vagina to anus.

Disregarding the scare and yuck factors, Dr. Jennifer asked a good question – essentially, she was saying that since there exists medical care for a particular problem, then it is prudent for birthing women to position themselves as close to that help as possible. Let’s use Dr. Jennifer’s argument and apply it to another bodily function: eating.

I think the smartest thing a person can do if they eat is to, first, eat at a restaurant. Home meals, after all, aren’t governed by the FDA, and don’t generate as much $$$ for the economy. Second, while at a restaurant, a diner should ensure that they have with them a certified dietitian, someone who knows the Heimlich maneuver, and a doctor who can monitor the condition of the diner throughout the meal.

But of course, people don’t do this. Why don’t they? Is it because it’s cost-prohibitive? Perhaps. But I assure you: even if I inherited $50 billion tomorrow, I would never hire people to attend my meals.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, it is a great idea to have people attending my meals, but I would need some assurance that they’d mind their own business. In fact, if a restaurant forced me to sign a blanket consent form before eating there, giving them the right to shove probes down my esophagus, strap monitors on my stomach, and continually check my heart rate and breathing, I wouldn’t eat there.

I tried calling in to say something like this, but I couldn’t get through. I wanted to ask Dr. Jennifer if there existed a place where I could bring my laboring wife – kind of like a hotel – where she could be in peace to use the bed, the tub, and the toilet as she desired, without nurses and midwifes forcing themselves on her despite her screaming no, but that also had all the equipment and expertise ready to go just in case the baby has a Klingon forehead (or even if my wife just wants their reassurance). Essentially, I wanted to say: “Is there a place where my wife can be within spitting distance of the finest medical care on the planet, but still be guaranteed autonomy over her own body – you know, where no one will bother her until she says, ‘hey, I think I need someone here’?” Because I think a place like that would be a great place to give birth.

Unfortunately, no such place exists. You can give birth in a hospital, where you might luck out with a nurse/midwife/doctor who respects your wishes, or you might wind up at HCMC. Either way, the best your nurse/midwife/doctor can promise you is that they’ll try to respect your wishes. Because when push comes to shove (and push often does come to shove at hospitals), the medical staff are more worried about their jobs and lawsuits than about your birthing experience.

As Kim, the home birth midwife, pointed out during the show, hospital births bring increased risk of pathogen and, in their hurry to medicate and treat labor as a ‘condition,’ nurses/midwives/doctors often cause many of the problems they think they’re saving you from. Dr. Jennifer agreed with this, as she explained that her practice has decided that episiotomies shouldn’t be performed unnecessarily. I don’t think any procedure should be performed unnecessarily, but good job, Dr. Jennifer, and welcome to the 21st Century. It’s good to have you.

Another problem relates to Driscoll’s reading of a statement of the Union of Hospital Lovers and Doctors Who Love to Put Their Fingers in Women’s Vaginas Even When Women Scream No and then Can’t See How That’s Rape But Instead Claim It’s Standard Practice (or something like that, I didn’t catch their actual name as I was too busy hitting ‘redial’ for the 48th time). They stated that birthing women who insist on giving birth at home, crazily blocks away from high-tech care, are forgetting that it’s not about them – it’s about their babies (red flag #2).

As soon as I heard this, I struggled to find the right word for it, and I think I finally found it. The word is Bullshit.

First of all, I love my kids, but they simply had no say in their births. The decision as to how and where they were to be born fell solely with my wife. And any medical practitioner who thinks that women should be drugged, controlled, denied their rights, and treated like a receptacle from which the baby needs to be saved, are sorely mistaken. I think this is another area where we can thank (Warning: redundancy coming up) religious nut jobs for believing pro-life means fighting for the rights of fetuses, but not people who have actually been born.

Second, while it is true that there are high-risk pregnancy and births, not all of them are. Not by a long shot. Just as not all meals are high-risk meals. Our home birth midwives screened my wife for all sorts of stuff, and they gave us paperwork (which I’m too lazy to go retrieve) that listed all sorts of reasons why they would recommend she transfer care to a hospital. Some of those reasons had to do with certain diseases (she had none), others had to do with her age (she was fine), or with gaining oodles of weight with the pregnancy (she didn’t) or having a whole litter in there (she didn’t).

Third, why do doctors think you have to choose one over the other? Can’t both mother and child have a safe, peaceable birth? The staph at HCMC may have tried to ‘save’ Owen from his mother, but in religiously following their ‘standard of care,’ they harmed both. Our home birth midwives, by contrast, were able to respect both mother and child.

I’d write more but I’m trying to be caller #10 for some concert tickets right now.

Thursday, 11 November 2010

Today is Veterans Day. That means it’s been 92 years since the cease-fire ended the War to End All Wars. Damn. 92 years without any wars. It’s been great. Happy Veterans’ Day.

This is one of those holidays that it’s impossible to speak about in anything but reverential tones, but I’ll try to do my best…

Did you know that there is a Librarian Day? If you did know that, do you know when it is (hint: we’ve already past it this year)? Did you know that there is a World Teachers Day, too? Did you know that, like Veterans Day, it’s missing an apostrophe? Do you know when World Teachers Day is (hint: it’s the same day as when Babylonia fell to Persia)?

I appreciate the work so many of our veterans have done, and I applaud them for not getting killed in a war. Even though the United States hasn’t participated in a morally justifiable war since at least my birth, I know that the military does much good, and I am all for protection and preparedness. Still, I think the country would do good to elevate the others who serve us via the government – such as librarians and teachers – to the same level as former military personnel. Does Applebee’s have a free day for Kindergarten teachers? I sure hope they do. Next time there’s a Super Bowl, will the pre-game antics bolster patriotism by having a brass band followed up by a line of librarians waving to the crowd? I hope so, ’cause then I’d watch.

Maybe, instead of singing the first verse of that violent tune of rockets and bombs, we could sing about what an awesome chunk of planet earth we have, and a whole bunch of National Park forest rangers could come out and stand at attention.

Is there a National Park Forest Ranger Day? I don’t even know.

Friday, 12 November 2010

I spent my lunch break at Home Depot today. Wait! Before you stop reading, I assure you, I’m not gonna whine about lousy service. This time. To the contrary, I was helped by Ray (at their Maple Grove location) who was friendly, knowledgeable, and competent – and to his supervisor: give Ray a raise – Home Depot needs to hire more people like him.

I signed up to take a woods class through the local community ed program. It starts tomorrow morning. It’s not so much a “class” as just getting to use the school’s equipment. I was going to build a hutch for our dining room. Just a small one – about 6.5 feet high, and about 18 inches wide. Today, I figured I’d better go buy the wood.

Ray showed me the available stock. I wanted pine, but the planks weren’t tall enough, so I had to decide on either shortening my hutch or combining two pieces. Neither option sounded that appealing. Ray suggested I use some press board, which – despite my prejudices – actually looked pretty decent. But, you know, it’s not authentic. Besides, two pieces of press board would’ve set me back $90, and I’d still need a lot more lumber.

Ray started helping me load my cart and, at one point, he said, “You’re racking up quite a bill here.” He was right. Long story short: it was too expensive. If I could buy a hutch for less money than I can build one, then what’s the point (yes, yes, I know, there are some good arguments for building my own)?

Anyway, despite Ray’s stellar customer service, I left empty-handed. I had Jennifer call and cancel my enrollment in the class.

Oh well.

Saturday, 13 November 2010

Wow! What a great day!

First of all, snow fell. And how! There was a ton of heavy, wet snow everywhere, and since I had nowhere to go (see above) I was just fine with that.

Instead, we all just did a bunch of projects around the house. My wife braved the elements (I’m using the ancient Greek’s definition of ‘elements’ here, not the modern one) and scored us some groceries. Owen, meanwhile, used his art supplies to knock out a couple of coloring books and prepare some artwork for his three out-of-state grandparents. I got three loads of laundry done, organized the files on my computer, and my wife did lots of dishes and made a great soup for dinner.

We polished the night off with an episode of the Muppet Show.

Sunday, 14 November 2010

But wait! There’s more! The inclement weather staycation continued today: I organized the garage by cutting up slices of last year’s Xmas tree and shoving everything I could into the corner. I made room for our car, and driving it into the garage was absolutely the only driving I did all weekend. This is good, because my satisfaction with a day generally drops off the more miles I log in an automobile. There’s an inverse correlation, for all of you smarty-pants out there.

Oh – and in case you’re wondering why I have to cut slices of our Xmas tree, and why it took me ten months to do it, let me explain: We save part of our tree from each year for sentimental reasons, most notably turning one slice into an ornament for future years.  To answer the other half of your question, I just forgot to do it. I cut off all the branches way back in January, but the trunk just sat in the corner of our garage, where the bottom two inches slowly rotted into mush. It was only last week, when I began cleaning the garage that I remembered to do it. So there.

Also, my wife hung up a bunch of new photos of our model-caliper children, Owen cleaned his room, we found a good spot for Isla’s toys, and Jennifer whipped up a batch of pearl onion/potato stew. It was awesome. We spent the better part of the afternoon and evening rocking out (or would that be ‘folking out’?) to Mason Jennings and Jack Johnson.

I hope your weekend was at least half as good as ours.

Wednesday, 10 November 2010

Last week, following the 6K, I picked up the shirt I earned for my participation. It’s long sleeved; a little heavier material than a t-shirt. It’s also bright orange. Like the kind of orange you’d wear if you were going to kill deer or work on the highway.

I hung the shirt in my closet and, this morning, I decided to wear it for the first time. And, I’m sorry, but it’s just too bright. By 9:00, three co-workers had commented on the shirt’s radioactive brilliance. Thankfully, I have a plain black t-shirt at work, and so I swapped out my upper-torso wear. It’s been a little cold at work in short sleeves today, especially during the Toastmasters meeting, which took place in a room surrounded on two sides by windows. Still, I think the change was prudent. I’ll keep the if-clothes-could-talk-this-shirt-would-be-shouting shirt for when I workout.

Also today:

It’s the thirty-fifth anniversary of the Edmund Fitzgerald’s demise. Here’s an extremely well-made video that includes archival news media, footage of the ship during its final days, and, of course, that great song that knows how rhyme “Gitche-Gumee” like nothing else:

Monday, 08 November 2010

Today my family of four attended a birthday party (it was Isla’s first time attending a birthday party). This one was at Edinborough Park in Edina. Owen and I used to frequent a similar park in Maple Grove, called Maple Maze, and we’ve been to another one in Woodbury, too. These play areas-within-a-community center seem to be catching on. It appears that, if yours is a suburb of significant size and affluence, then you must build one of these things. I bet there’s one in Apple Valley, I just don’t know about it yet.

I vote for Edinborough Park as the best of the three, though. For one thing, it doesn’t smell like a dirty diaper. The six-story high roof maybe helps with this. It’s in a large building, as are the ones in Maple Grove and Woodbury, but unique among the three, the one in Edina is not cordoned off from the rest of the building. So, you know – more air flow.

For another thing, adults can actually fit in the play area. At the other two, it’s been difficult for me to get my immense body (i.e., over 5 feet tall) through the tubes. When Owen’s asked me to go down the slide with him, I’ve had to practically lay down to fit. Not so Edinborough – I was able to walk through most of the tubes, and I could actually sit up as I went down the slides. There were some pretty kick ass slides, there, too. There was also a play area with some fun carts, balls, and one of those inflatable jumping things. Not a bad Monday evening.

The grapes were very tasty, too.

Tuesday, 09 November 2010

Jennifer and I went to Owen’s school today for our first ever parent-teacher conferences.I told Jennifer that conferences used to scare the crap out of me. Literally. I would get so nervous I’d get diarrhea and I couldn’t eat or think about anything. Primarily this was because my parents made an enormous stink about everything, so when my mom would attend conferences and find out that I wasn’t paying attention in class for a minute last Thursday, or that I turned in an assignment a day late, or that I only got a B+ on the latest math exam, this was typically met with spankings in the case of the former and disapproving comments in regards the latter.

Now, like with just about everything else, I don’t see what the big deal was.

In Kindergarten, there’s not much to ‘rate’ a kid on: Owen is doing good in reading, writing, and drawing. His socializing is behind, but he’s coming along. He “loves the concrete nature of math,” which isn’t too surprising, and he is always pleasant to be around. The teacher gave us a folder (complete with a fall-theme on the cover that Owen colored) with some observations and goals for Owen and a few pieces of his artwork.

In the coming weeks, there will be some tests to see how the kids perform, and the results will be used to place the kids in future classes. If Owen doesn’t exceed expectations, I’m gonna beat him. Just kidding.

Oh – and I know it’s a bit early to be thinking about Xmas presents, but you might want to consider this for the little ones in your life:

(CLICK HERE for more info about this wonderful book, which will help your preschooler equate President Obama with Josef Stalin.)

Saturday, 06 November 2010

We made another trip to Michaels today.

Last week, we visited their custom framing department to inquire about getting three pictures framed. This would have cost over $400. Yikes! Did I mention that was with the non-fancy frame style and did not include glass? Yep. The employee told us they do have 50% off sales all the time, which makes sense, because I can’t imagine anyone pays full price. We sure didn’t.

Instead, my wife went online and selected the frames we needed. For less than $80, we bought all three frames (and this time it included glass). The problem was, it did not include spacers.

Spacers, for those who don’t know (and I sure didn’t) are little pieces that hide between the glass and the picture (tucked behind the frame) that keep the print off the glass.

No problem, we thought, we’ll just pick some up at Michaels.

So today, we stopped at the apostrophe-starved store and my wife went in while I waited in the car with our two miniature versions. She came back ~10 minutes later empty-handed. Turns out, Michaels does have spacers, but they only sell them in with custom framing orders. When they asked my wife if she bought her frames from Michaels, she said no (have I mentioned she’s honest to a fault?), and they said that they couldn’t sell them to her.

Fine, if they don’t want our money, we’ll take it elsewhere.

We ventured over to Gallery Editions. The sign on their window said they are open until 5:00 but, even though it was only 4:45, the doors were locked and the lights were out. A sign on the door said that they had to adopt shorter hours, including closing on Saturdays at…5:00.

Um…if the economy is cutting into your hours, Gallery Editions, maybe you should at least stay open as long as your signs say. That way you could have made some money off of us.

Sunday, 07 November 2010

Today was sure to be a good day, as we were determined not to go to Michaels. Instead, I stopped at Deck the Walls, a store that, despite claims to the contrary on their website, were not willing to help me ‘created my masterpiece.’

We also stopped at Things Remembered. After the teenage employee got off the phone with her BFF, I asked her if she could stitch our daughter’s name on a new blanket we purchased. She said they can only customize blankets that were purchased in their store. I said, “Oh, you must’ve changed your policy in the last few years,” and she said, “yeah.” Then my wife said something super sarcatic to her (that’s the kind of thing that makes up for her überhonesty, which is a word I just made up so that I could use an umlaut), and we walked out of that store.

I gotta say, though, I’m kind of happy that the girl refused our money. She didn’t exactly make me feel confident. She was a typical gum-chewing, hair twirling ditz who was gabbing away on the phone when we walked into her store, despite the fact that other customers were there, presumably looking for assistance. She only got off the phone because I just walked right up to the counter and stared at her until she said to her friend: “Well, I have to go now, yeah, okay, talk to you later, okay, mm-hm, yep, bye.” For some reason, she just didn’t exude “You can trust me with your family heirlooms.”

I guess I’m saying this because, thanks to that girl, I have no intention of returning to Things Remembered for any reason. If I need something customized, I’ll go somewhere where the employees at least seem competent and ready to help.