Ginny Kaczmarek's Open Salon Blog

Recent publications

Sat, 1 May 2010 16:05:12 -0400

How exciting! A review I wrote of three excellent books of poetry has been published on Literary Mama. Here's a sample:

In Mary Crockett Hill's poem "The Fat Cat," one line in particular stands out: "Someone should write a manual for avoiding random horrors." Although that manual may not exist, three recent collections of poetry--Mary Crockett Hill's a theory of everything, Amy Lemmon's Saint Nobody, and Rebecca Foust's Dark Card--address how mothers reconcile a world filled with beauty and pain, attachment and loss, especially when motherhood doesn't turn out the way we imagined it would be.

Also, the story of my first son's birth is going to be published in an anthology of birth stories sometime in the next couple of months. The editors have created a blog, with photos and clips (mine is down toward the bottom, if you scroll!). Can't wait to see the finished product.

All this activity reminds me that I'm more than just a milk machine/sandbox playmate...and one of these days I'll be back to creating some new works (or finally putting together the half-finished ones sitting in my "In progress" folders). Till then, I'm watching the two little guys grow bigger day by day...and trying to remember that the writing will keep.

I'm Baaack--Again!

Sat, 27 Mar 2010 18:03:39 -0400

Well, that first reintroduction to this space didn't really happen, now did it? Since that last long-ago posting, the little one has been born and is growing by leaps and bounds. And I am starting to come out of the late-pregnancy/new motherhood haze. Here he is, two days old and grinning:

I don't know what it is, but when I'm pregnant (all two times), I just can't/don't want to write. It's like my body is so busy being creative, it's just too much to ask my brain to do it, too. But now the little guy is getting bigger, sleeping a little more regularly (ha!), and I'm itching to get back to my old life. Not that I really ever can. Not that I have much time anymore. But I actually miss writing, miss blogging, and so I think I'll make more of an attempt, when I can.

I have lots to write about, too: I home-birthed this baby, and so am looking forward to writing about that. I have some good recipes that I've discovered--good and easy and/or freezable (red lentil stew, I'm looking at you, and homemade nursing bars, hurrah!). I'm trying to figure out this whole two-kid thing (how do people do this??), plus my struggles with attachment parenting and where I fit in and where I don't. Waldorf schooling. Freelance writing. Trying to live/write/create and raise kids without neglecting them or me (or poor hubby).

Now it's just a matter of having the time to do it all. My mom always said mothers should grow a third arm along with the bigger boobs and expanding waist; I think we also need an extra hour each day. At least. When I figure out how to grow an hour, I'll let everyone know...

I'm Baaaack

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 12:09:56 -0400

Gosh I've missed OS! Well, it was a long, hot, nauseated summer, but I'm finally back in the saddle again. The good news is that the nausea was caused by my second pregnancy, now in its sixth month. The bad news is it's still swelteringly hot here in New Orleans. Bleah.

Now that school has started, and my nausea has abated, I hope to have more time and/or energy to keep up with the community here. Of course, not right now because I have to pick my son up from school, and feed my growing belly, and figure out what to do with an energetic 4-year-old when it's 90 degrees with 90% humidity for the FOURTH MONTH IN A ROW, but in theory.

Heaven knows I've got stuff to rant about. And I know you do, too.

First-ever "Maybe" on a Pregnancy Test?

Tue, 2 Jun 2009 17:06:07 -0400

So my period was a day late, my boobs were a little sore, and I was feeling slightly nauseous. Time to take a pregnancy test!

I grabbed the kind that claim you can test up to five days before your period starts, but I made myself wait until my period was actually late before peeing on that stick. I'd wasted enough money on those tests already. (And the "five-day" claims are misleading: once you read the info inside the box, you see that the accuracy of the test is only 50% five days out, gradually increasing in accuracy to the 99% mentioned on the outside of the box once you've actually missed your period.)

When I woke up the morning I'd decided to test, I raced to the bathroom, feeling like I was going to burst. I refused to get up and pee in the middle of the night because I wanted my first-morning urine to be as potent as well-steeped tea. (First morning pee tends to have higher concentrations of the hormone you're testing for.) I locked the door, so my curious son wouldn't burst in on Mom peeing on a plastic stick, did my business, replaced the little plastic cap and oh-so-gently set the test down to wait for the two agonizing minutes before a result would show.

Ever notice how time stretches out unbelievably long when your future hangs in the balance?

I tried to read a magazine. Brush my teeth. Wash my hands and face. The two minutes had to be up by now. I braced myself and looked at the test.

The "control window" had a strong blue line, so I knew I did the test right. But the "results window" had a fainter line: a minus sign instead of a plus. My heart dropped. Then I looked again.

Was there a vertical line there, turning the minus into a plus?

Or was I just wishing there was one there so much that I was seeing things?

I held that stick up to the light, close to my face (ew!), farther away, tilted left, tilted right, shook it, set it down. The minus sign was clear, but I couldn't tell whether there was a tiny, faded blue line there, too, or if it was just a reflection in the plastic.

I came out of the bathroom, and my husband raised his eyebrows, waiting for the results. I sighed. "Here," I said. "What do you see?"

"Oh, too bad. Looks negative to me."

"OK, now look again. Do you see a very faint vertical line? Or am I crazy?"

He gave me a look, so I knew what he thought, but he checked out the test with my pee on it again. "Well, maybe something, but I don't know. I'd say it's negative."

But that was all I needed to hear. Maybe. It wasn't totally in my head: we got a Maybe.

Nobody ever mentioned you could get a Maybe! Isn't it either/or? You're pregnant or you're not? How can it be Maybe?!

The test's instructions recommended waiting three more days before testing again if I got "unexpected results." Three long, agonizing days of anxious underwear-checking (has my period come yet?) and boob-prodding (are they sore from being pregnant or from my poking them?).

Finally, the morning I was supposed to test again, I woke up before dawn with cramps. Oh shit, I thought. But nothing came. I got up, peed into a cup, and went back to bed, unwilling to deal with my disappointment that early (but still saving the precious first-morning pee!).

When it was time to get up, my period still hadn't come and the cramps had stopped. I dunked my last pregnancy test into that cup o' pee. And this time, I got a plus. No maybes about it.

Open call: Disturbing pillow talk

Tue, 19 May 2009 13:05:28 -0400

It's spring, and there's a recession on, so it seems like everybody's getting it on. What else is so fun for so cheap?

But there's always a downside. Bodies attach to mouths, which often disconnect from brains. For example, my hub and I have been trying to get pregnant. After one such "time to make the donuts" session, we were still entangled, blissed out on love hormones, and I said, "Gee, I think I could use a cork. Y'know. To keep the good stuff in."

Smooth.

My husband groaned and rolled away. I started giggling, wishing I had a cork for my mouth-end too.

So, how 'bout it? What's some of the dumbest, weirdest, disturbingest postcoital pillow talk you've heard (or said)?

Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.