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Jennifer Margulis

Mothering Outside the Lines

Sex After Kids

December 30th, 2009

One thing that usually helps when the baby wakes me up in the middle of the night and I can’t go back to sleep is spending some quality time (eh hem) with myself.

Sex works even better, but when it’s 2:00 a.m. I’m hesitant to wake James because I feel like at least one of us should get some uninterrupted sleep so we’re not both total wrecks in the morning.

Kimberly Ford, author of Hump

Kimberly Ford, author of Hump

Which brings me to the subject of sex in general. Which brings me to Kimberly Ford, a writer and a friend who is also an expert on sex. Ford’s book Hump: True Tales of Sex After Kids (St. Martin’s Press) offers a bawdy, hilarious, and often over-the-top look at her own sex life and the sex lives of other parents.

Here’s what Kimberly had to say:

JM: Is it really possible to have a satisfying sex life after kids?

KF: Yes! It’s very hard in the beginning. Like, VERY hard. But sex can be an efficient way to reconnect with your spouse, to release tension, and to do something adult for yourself.

JM: It seems like dads are often readier sooner to jump back into bed after a new baby is born though that wasn’t your experience. Any tips for new moms on how to get back in the saddle?

KF: Don’t be afraid to bargain … this is a serious piece of leverage you’re talking about. Tell your partner, in a nice way, that you would like to have sex with him right AFTER you’ve gotten a half-hour to yourself to soak in the tub or take a walk around the block or leaf through a holiday catalog or nap or whatever it is that recharges you.

JM: For a lot of us, the holidays tend to be stressful. What can we do to maintain a robust sex life during the craziness of gift-giving, house guests, travel, and New Year’s Eve celebrations?

KF: This is a tough one. With families often all under the same roof, it’s very difficult to connect with your partner in any way, let alone intimately. I myself am not opposed to a “quickie” to help feel reconnected to my spouse, but this may not appeal to all women. I can’t say that I’m comfortable plugging in my Magic Wand vibrator and having at it in my in-laws’ powder room!

JM: You write a lot about your own sex life in Hump and I’m wondering what your husband’s reaction to the book was? (I’d like to blog more about sex but James is a much more private person than I am and blogging about it in the cybersphere might create conflict between the sheets…)

KF: My husband is pretty immodest. Obviously! But it wasn’t entirely comfortable for him to read the book. Interestingly, he kept falling asleep with the galley pages on his lap, which is his way of being avoidant. In the end, though, he was very positive about the book and was totally sold on it when one of my closest friends said she thought he came across as a stud. Even though the book might seem to readers like a tell-all, there’s plenty about our sex lives that I chose to keep private. The important thing, too, is that the book celebrates monogamy and the idea of strengthening your marriage, all of which Bill can get behind.

JM: Any favorite sex toys, movies, or books (besides yours) to recommend to moms and dads?

I really love the Gottmans’ And Baby Makes Three: The Six-Step Plan for Preserving Marital Intimacy and Rekindling Romance After Baby Arrives. I didn’t read it until I was writing Hump, but I think it might help a lot of new parents navigate these waters. And if there’s one practical thing I would urge each new mom to consider, if she doesn’t already have one, it would be to buy a vibrator. They seem to be everywhere these days … at your local pharmacy, online at Good Vibes. They’re not terribly expensive—and they can be worth every penny—so experiment a little to make sex easier, more satisfying, more efficient, and more fun for both of you!

JM: The vibrator chapter in your book is one of my favorite chapters and this is all great advice. Anything else you want to add about sex after kids that I haven’t asked you?

KF: One last idea: Think of sex as the equivalent of going for a jog. It never sounds like a good idea. Then you get into it and it’s not so bad. Then when you’re close to being done it feels pretty good or even really really good. And when you’re finished, you’re always glad you did it! It’s good for your body and your mind and your marriage.

Maybe this is what every new mom needs in her utility drawer: a copy of Hump and a vibrator!

Maybe this is what every new mom needs in her utility drawer: a copy of Hump and a vibrator!

Author photo by Teresa Nora. Courtesy of Kimberly Ford.

Other posts you might like:
It’s Not the Baby’s Fault That I Can’t Sleep
The Story of Our Unassisted Birth
A Rant Against Snaps

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[ 9 comments ]

It’s Not The Baby’s Fault That I Can’t Sleep

December 29th, 2009

This baby is a good sleeper but I'm not

This baby is a good sleeper but I'm not

It’s 2:30 in the morning and I’m wide awake.

A post on sleep was not in the line-up for this week’s blogging but here I am in a pitch black 50 degree house and all the other topics I had planned to write about (weird but normal in postpartum women, how Cheri Huber stuck a gun in her stomach and pulled the trigger before she found Zen Buddhism, more on the philosophy behind going diaper free) feel irrelevant right now.

I remember my father having insomnia. From my room I would hear him go downstairs in the middle of the night and turn on the TV. His sister, my aunt, suffers from insomnia too. She wakes up several times a night to use the bathroom and often can’t go back to sleep. But my mom is a champion sleeper. So I guess insomnia only partly runs in the family.

The conventional thinking about insomnia is not to do what I am doing right now. You’re not supposed to look at the clock (I always do), turn lights on (how else can I see the clock?), conquer the dinner dishes (why not wash them since I can’t sleep anyway?), finish a work project (how bout that cloth diaper article I’m writing for Mothering? Or the new assignment for Fit Pregnancy?), or do anything that will wake your mind up when you can’t sleep.

All of that is considered bad sleep hygiene.

My name is Jennifer and I have bad sleep hygiene.

I woke up to nurse Leone. Then I changed her diaper (she did not want to pee in the chamber pot). She sucked on my pinky finger for a few minutes and went right back to sleep.

Listening to her breathing, I lay in bed quietly trying not to panic about being awake.

Me: Oh my god, I’ll never function tomorrow if I don’t go back to sleep… It’s bad for your health not to sleep…

Myself: Count your breaths, stop thinking about sleep.

Me: Why is the printer still on the fritz? Why hasn’t that new part for it come? First thing I’ll have to save that letter to Scot and the new contract to the jump drive and go the copy store to print them…

Myself: One, two, three–

Me (interrupting): I wonder if James remembered to take out the recycling? I’d better go check…

Myself: Four, five, six–

Me (interrupting): The FlyLady has a good idea about the 27-item blitz to declutter. Maybe I should try that right now. The shoe drawer is full of stuff we could get rid of…

Clearly it was time to get out of bed and wash the dishes.

What kind of challenges–if any–do you have with sleep? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comment section below.

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[ 18 comments ]

The Incredible Pooping Baby; or, Leone Uses Her Chamber Pot

December 27th, 2009

P1030421-27Last week I wrote about reading a book about how to have your baby be diaper free.

I don’t know anyone in America who has done this but I’m totally intrigued by the idea.

So I found Leone a chamber pot. It’s a white plastic mixing bowl with a spout on one side and a handle on the other.

Guess what? It actually works! She’s been pooping and peeing in the pot ever since. (Except when she goes in her diaper.)

I’m amazed by how smart and aware infants actually are, how much they communicate with us, and how much I have to learn from my 7-week-old daughter.

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[ 6 comments ]

Seven Weeks Old Today

December 23rd, 2009

LeoneSmilingIt’s hard to believe that Leone, who is sleeping peacefully on the bed as I write this, is seven weeks old today.

Part of me will never forgive my children for growing up so fast.

Ten-year-old Hesperus’s legs are so long that she can barely sit on my lap. She experiments with rolling her eyes, looks at me and says, “Uh, duh, Mom!”, and sometimes even shrugs off my hugs. Now that she’s 10 going on 14 we have a new way of spending time together. We rent the trashy movies I loved as a kid, musicals like “Footloose,” “Fame,” and “The Turning Point,” to watch secretly together. Hesperus tries to keep the bed from squeaking as she climbs quietly down from the top bunk and sneaks out of the room she shares with Athena and Etani. Then she tiptoes into the living room and we snuggle on the couch. With my oldest daughter, hugs and cuddles are out. John Travolta when he was trim and wearing polyester and his dancing sent a shiver down America’s spine, is in.

Perhaps it’s because Leone is our last baby, but I feel a keen desire for things to slow down. I remember charting every milestone with Hesperus, calling my dad eager for the information he couldn’t remember about when I could lift my head up, when I learned to roll over, when I said my first word. I looked forward to the day when she would talk in full sentences, take herself to the potty, and sleep through the night. But with Leone I’m not interested in reading books about baby development to see how she measures up. I don’t need her to learn to nap outside of my arms. I don’t want her eyes to change to their permanent color.

Yet, like all good children, she defies me. She coos now and likes a good conversation. “A-bu,” she says. “Haya.” These past few days she’s barely been fussing before settling down for nighttime sleep, and she’s outgrown almost all the 0-3 month clothes we have for her. Our size small Bumpkin cloth diapers barely fit. She’s even sprouting new hair.

I went to a La Leche League meeting last Thursday and there was a 2-week-old baby there. That baby was so tiny. Leone looked like a football player beside him.

Happy seven weeks Leone. I love you. But will you please slow down?
timego

Cartoon courtesy of Heather Dowdee-Cushman.

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[ 8 comments ]

In America We Are Forcing Women to Have C-Sections

December 21st, 2009

KS002-1Joy Szabo got some bad news when she was seven months pregnant.

Because she had had a previous C-section, the hospital where she was planning to deliver would not let her have a vaginal birth with her fourth child.

Szabo’s story is written up on CNN’s Website (if you watch TV, you may have seen it on CNN as well): “Mom fights, gets the delivery she wants.”

But the title of the article is misleading. The hospital and the doctor did not change their policy after the Szabos insisted. Instead, Szabo and her husband had to move six hours away to Phoenix, Arizona (they live in Page) three weeks before the baby was due in order to go to a hospital that would let her deliver her baby vaginally.

I am so grateful to women like Szabo who refuse to let American doctors dictate what is best for them. But I’m sickened to think of all the women in this country who are being forced or coerced into having unnecessary C-sections.

Though a C-section can sometimes be a lifesaving measure, the vast majority of the time it is totally unnecessary. Yet almost one third of women in America are having C-sections.

The high C-section rate in this country is unacceptable, unfair, and unhealthy.

Some people in the medical establishment argue that a VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean), which is what Szabo wanted, is dangerous because of the increased risk of the uterus rupturing.

Yet hundreds of thousands of women have VBACs with no complications at all, in the hospital, in birthing centers, at home, and even at home unassisted. After explaining the different risks, doctors who attend hospital births need to let women and their families decide for themselves.

Instead, the medical establishment is trying to mandate C-sections. A C-section is a major surgery that is much more risky than vaginal labor and delivery and much harder to recover from. C-sections can lead to chronic pelvic pain, hemorrhage, blood clots, infection, and even maternal death.

If that’s not enough, most people don’t know that there is a new kind of surgery for stitching up the uterus that might be partially to blame for the increased risks associated with VBACS.

Called the “Misgav-Ladach method” or “single-layer suturing,” in this surgery the uterus is stitched up in a single layer instead of in two layers. According to Ina May Gaskin, two-layer suturing has been the standard of care for more than 75 years.

Single-layer suturing has been associated with placenta percreta, a once extremely rare condition where the placenta grows over the uterine scar and can sometimes grow into other organs like the bladder, as well. Single-layer suturing has also has been associated with unprecedented bleeding, failure to heal, and other post C-section complications.

Gaskin cites a study in Montreal of 2,142 women that found that single-layer suturing comes with a four-times higher risk of uterine rupture than double-layer method (Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, page 284).

But HMOS and hospitals save money on the single-layer method because it is faster for the doctors and reduces the time a surgeon needs to spend in the operating room.

Is doctor convenience and HMO costs really how we make health care decisions for laboring women in our country?

Unfortunately the answer is yes.

It is impossible that one third of American women actually need C-sections.

Joy Szabo did not.

She delivered a healthy baby boy on December 5th after an uncomplicated labor.

Should two of these six pregnant women really need a C-section?

Should two of these six pregnant women really need a C-section?

Photos courtesy of Jenny Johnson.

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[ 17 comments ]

What Can We Do Without?

December 18th, 2009

41uQfoqLHPLA friend who had a baby two weeks ago leant me a book, Ingrid Bauer’s Diaper Free: The Gentle Wisdom of Natural Infant Hygiene, which I started reading last night.

Bauer argues that focusing on the things a baby needs is actually an impediment to good parenting.

Instead of asking, “What do we need for the baby?” Bauer suggests asking, “What can we do without?”

There’s so much we DON’T need for a new baby.

On Bauer’s list are diapers.

Her book teaches parents how to pay attention to a baby’s need to eliminate, respond accordingly, and completely do away with using diapers.

I’m not there yet with the diaper thing (I’m only a few chapters into the book), though I’m intrigued by the idea. But here are some of the things we don’t have in our house, things we absolutely don’t need:

1) Disposable baby wipes: When Leone is poopy we fill a squirt bottle with warm water and wipe her with a washcloth.

2) A crib: Well, we do have a crib set up in the corner. It’s filled with receiving blankets and baby clothes. You don’t actually need a crib—at least not for many months—since it’s easier to nurse and care for a baby if you keep her in bed.

3) A bucket car seat: When I researched car seat safety a few years ago, I discovered that the bucket infant seats actually score much more poorly on crash tests than seats that do not have the pop-out option. I see so many moms carrying their babies in those plastic buckets, which are very popular. But I think it’s better to carry your baby in your arms.

4) A pacifier: Leone has a huge need for non-nutritive sucking. We wash our hands and let her suck on an inverted pinkie finger instead of plugging her mouth with a piece of rubber rimmed by plastic. You can use a finger until your baby finds her own.

5) Hand sanitizer: Old-fashioned soap and water are a lot more hygienic. Why put a foul horrid-smelling substance on your skin where it is absorbed into your body? (Unless you want to get high by sniffing it, as one teen in Lewisville, Texas, tried to do last year; or get drunk by drinking it, as the National Institute on Drug Abuse has received reports of.)

6) Paper towels: We don’t buy them and never use them. Cloth dishtowels and cloth napkins work just as well.

7) A microwave: We got rid of ours five years ago (click to this column in the Ashland Daily Tidings if you want to know all the reasons why), and have never missed it.

Another thing we don't have is a baby bath tub

Another thing we don't have is a baby bath tub. The big tub (and a sibling) works just as well

What about you? What baby (or other) items don’t you need, despite advertisers, friends, and family trying to convince you otherwise?

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[ 11 comments ]

The Fourth Night of Hanukkah: I Eat Kids Yum Yum!

December 15th, 2009

Menorah

As I’ve been posting about this week, we exchange poetry, not gifts, on Hanukkah.

“I EAT KIDS YUM YUM!” by Dennis Lee is one of our family’s favorite poems:

I EAT KIDS YUM YUM!
photo-1-1A child went out one day.
She only went to play.
A mighty monster came along
And sang its might monster song:

“I EAT KIDS YUM YUM!
I STUFF THEM DOWN MY TUM.
I ONLY LEAVE THE TEETH AND CLOTHES.
(I SPECIALLY LIKE THE TOES.)”

The child was not amused.
She stood there and refused.
Then with a skip and a little twirl
She sang the song of a hungry girl:

“I EAT MONSTERS BURP!
THEY MAKE ME SQUEAL AND SLURP.
IT’S TIME TO CHOMP AND TAKE A CHEW–
AND WHAT I’ll CHEW IS YOU!”

The monster ran like that!
It didn’t stop to chat.
(The child went skipping home again
And ate her brother’s model train.)

Here’s a 40-second video of Hesperus (10) and Athena (8) reciting and acting out this poem. It’s very silly. If you look closely, you can see Etani (6) peeking out from under the table.

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[ 4 comments ]

The Third Night of Hanukkah: On Being an Atheist

December 15th, 2009

ChristmasWe always had a Christmas tree growing up but we would hang Hanukkah gelt from the branches and put a Jewish star at the top of the tree.

The star really offended one of my older brother’s best friends, a deeply religious practicing Catholic. He didn’t think Jews should have Christmas trees, and felt the Jewish star at the top was an insult to Christians.

My husband, who is from an Italian Catholic family, grew up deeply religious. James paid attention in church, he listened to the priests, and he worried about committing sins.

Even as a toddler, James was intrigued by the tenets of Catholicism.

My father-in-law still remembers his son’s enthusiasm after a sermon: “Jimmy loved that stuff. He’d say, ‘Yeah, and there was this guy, and he was dead! And then he came back to life! And he could turn stuff into other stuff!’”

James took the idea of turning the other cheek to heart. He would get into fights in grade school and try to remember you shouldn’t hurt people even if they hurt you first (though it usually didn’t work). He was puzzled by how the men in his family had fought in wars and were still Catholic. He felt it was important to help people, and was concerned that so many people needed help around the world.

But James stopped believing in God when he was 14 and he started reading Descartes, Nietzsche, and other philosophers. Descartes’ Meditations, though a defense of rational faith, convinced James that he had to doubt what he believed to be true, stop believing blindly, and rethink everything rationally for himself.

I never believed in God.

It’s something of a taboo in America to be an atheist.

According to a 2005 Gallup Poll, only five percent of Americans believe that God does not exist.

Although I feel dismayed when people do bad things or act hatefully in the name of religion, I feel a profound respect for people who do believe in God.

I wonder if my children, unlike me, will actually believe in God

I wonder if my children, unlike me, will actually believe in God

I envy other people’s faith, I know that having faith can help you in times of trouble and that it has health benefits. I wonder if my children, unlike James and me, will believe in God.

At the same time, I don’t think you need God or the Bible to be a good person, to care about others, to object to war, and to try to make a positive contribution to the world.

I also don’t think you need God to celebrate Jewish holidays, to feel a connection to your ancestors and your past, or to pass on family traditions to your children.

After Hanukkah, James is planning to take the kids into the mountains, traipse through the snow, and saw down a small conifer.

We’ll put the tree in our living room, Jewish star, Hanukkah gelt, and all.

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[ 12 comments ]

The Second Night of Hanukkah

December 14th, 2009

Celebrating the second night of Hanukkah

Celebrating the second night of Hanukkah

Hanukkah celebrates a miracle of light.

When the Greek King Antiochus told the Jews (and the Babylonians, Arabs, Persians, and others) they had to give up their different beliefs, different ways of worshipping, and different cultures, the Jews rebelled.

In 164, led by Judah of the Maccabees, the Jews defeated the Greek army, essentially preserving their right to practice a different religion.

But when they returned to their temple, they found it had been desecrated.

Instead of enough oil to last for eight nights of ceremonies, there was only one small flask of oil, enough to light the candelabra for one night.

Yet–behold!–the scant oil lasted for eight days and today we light candles in a menorah and feast on oily foods for eight days.

I talked about Hanukkah and read a book by Laura Krauss Melmed, Moishe’s Miracle: A Hanukkah Story, to my 6-year-old son Etani’s kindergarten class on Friday. The book is about a generous milkman and his sharp-tongued wife, who is as critical as she is stingy.

When Moishe’s cows reveal a magic pan that can provide the hungry townspeople with latkes, everything changes.

“There’s no such thing as magic,” one boy said, after I finished reading.

“Yes there is or the tooth fairy wouldn’t be tiny enough to fit under the door,” a little girl disagreed, pointing to the big gap between her teeth.

Five-week-old Leone was not interested in miracles or in the second night of Hanukkah. Though she slept on my back in an African-style back carrier while I vacuumed the house and grated potatoes, by the time our friends came over she was fussy.

She fussed through the candle lighting, the latke eating, the poetry reading (we exchange poems instead of gifts on Hanukkah), and dessert.

Nothing helped–not the sling, not sucking on an inverted pinky finger, not nursing, not being bounced, not being sung to, not having her diaper changed. Nothing.

After our friends left and my three older kids were in their pajamas and had brushed their teeth, we all crowded onto our bed to read. Finally the baby was ready to settle down.

Leone feeling fussy

Leone feeling fussy

“I wish Leone hadn’t been so fussy,” I sighed.

“It’s okay Mommy,” my 10-year-old daughter Hesperus said. “Babies are like that.”

Hesperus is one of the many reasons that I believe in miracles.

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[ 5 comments ]

The First Night of Hanukkah

December 11th, 2009
Lighting Hanukkah candles with the kids

Lighting Hanukkah candles with the kids

Tonight is Baby Leone’s first Hanukkah.

It’s also Shabbat.

Where I grew up–in Newton, Massachusetts–there are lots of Jewish families.

But even though my parents are both Jewish, we did not celebrate the Jewish holidays and we never lit Hanukkah candles.

Instead, my friend Becca Steinberg would invite me to her house.

6-year-old Hesperus lighting Hanukkah candles when we lived in Niger, West Africa

Then 6-year-old Hesperus lighting Hanukkah candles when we lived in Niger, West Africa


My parents are scientists and atheists and I think my mother had so many scars from her childhood that she did not want to raise her children the way she herself had been raised. Her father helped found Israel, peppered his speech with Yiddish, wrote a book called “Israel and Me,” and strongly identified as a Jew.

These days my mother is less Jewish than her Catholic companero, the man from Spain she has been seeing for more than twenty years. It’s only when Ricardo, who lives in Barcelona, calls her to wish her a happy Hanukkah or Pesach that my mother even realizes it’s a Jewish holiday.

My father, a Red Diaper baby, does not like organized religion and did not grow up with a Hanukkah tradition. For him, it was easier, perhaps, to buy a heap of presents and put them under a Christmas tree.

But I love lighting Hanukkah candles, eating latkes (which taste delicious for two or three days until you groan at the sight of a potato pancake and think you never want to eat anything fried in oil again), and playing Dreidel with the kids.

We don’t exchange gifts on Hanukkah. We exchange poetry.

After the candles are lit and our bellies are full, we spend time as a family reading poems from books like X. J. Kennedy and Jane Dyer’s Talking Like the Rain and The Complete Poems of Robert Frost.

Then 4-year-old Athena admires Hanukkah candles

Then 4-year-old Athena admires Hanukkah candles

My girls are memorizing a lot of poetry at the decidedly un-Jewish Waldorf school that they attend. Athena plans to recite this poem, “December,” by John Updike tonight:

First snow! The flakes,
So few, so light,
Remake the world
In solid white

All bundled up,
We feel as if
We were fat penguins,
Warm and stiff.

The toy-packed shops
Half split their sides,
And Mother brings home
Things she hides.

Old carols peal.
The dusk is dense.
There is a mood
Of sweet suspense.

The shepherds wait,
The kings, the tree -
All wait for something
Yet to be,

Some miracle.
And then it’s here,
Wrapped up in hope -
Another year!

I hope our children will have good childhood memories of this holiday and want to share the candle lighting, latke eating, and poetry reading with their children.

Happy Hanukkah!

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[ 5 comments ]






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