what’s in a name?

When I started this blog nearly 2 years ago the name was an afterthought. I started it for myself, and at the time I didn’t really grasp the far reaching tendrils of blogging. I didn’t realize that writing this blog was going to become a daily part of my life. I didn’t know that blogging would leave such a deep mark on my heart. That it would effect my husband’s life. My daughter’s.

It didn’t occur to me that it would touch everything I do in some way.

I didn’t realize that writing this blog would bring me out of myself.

That I would wind up meeting people not only over the vast internets but also right here at home.

So 2 years ago when I started this blog a name was just a name. ‘Mommified Me’ seemed to sum up nicely who I was and what was going on. The problem? It only made sense to me. A few people have gotten the real meaning of the title in the time I’ve been writing here. That these pages are a way to reflect the version of me that motherhood has brought about, and not that this blog is about being a mom.

The truth is that I write about such a broad range of topics here that mentioning “mom” in the title seems to be a bit restricting. I’ve known that for a while but very recently a friend gave me a piece of information that made me realize it was time to let go of my old title.

And what better time than now when all else with my blog is in transition.

Does that mean the content or aim of this blog will change? No. The content will still be the ramblings of CamiKaos. Sometimes I’ll talk about things that mean the world to me sometimes I’ll talk about a particularly tough stain in my last load of wash, you never know.

As for my aim? When I figure out what I’m aiming for I promise you’ll be the first to know.

So without further ado I present to you the new name of my blog:

Cami Kaos

I know… has there ever been a more anticlimactic announcement ever? Maybe I’ll had a snazzy subtitle…

chrysalis

For the first time since we ripped out our main floor bathroom my posts will all be variations on a theme this week. No it has nothing to do with remodeling our house, I’ve had quite enough of that for this year thank you very much…

Instead I’m going to be remodeling, reforming, transforming and fixing the space I write in. I mentioned it last week but it warrants repeating for several reasons (not the least of which is that it’s what I came up with to write about). This week should see many changes around these parts, and while I hope that the end result will be pleasing (not just for me, I want you to be happy too.. really. As long as it doesn’t put me out) it’s going to take some time and energy for me to get there.

I’ve got a plan of attack ready, I know what needs to change, I’m ready. I’m wrapping myself up in a big bundle of nerves and time constraints and forging ahead, relocating my blog, changing it’s name (more on that later) and probably losing my mind in the process since I’m also swept up in at least 2 other large projects this week.

On Saturday I attended WordCamPDX which answered a lot of questions that needed answering and raised about 6,000 more that I’m looking in to. I’ll have an entire post on my experience at word camp later in the week but for now I leave you with this picture of Verso and I taken by Jane Wells.

Yeah, we rock… we know.

toonlet fridays…

***

Join us Friday September 26th at 9:30pm for another live episode of Strange Love. We’ll be starting 30 minutes early this week because I have to get my lazy self up and to Word Camp early in the morning (as does our guest). Oh, the guest… have I not yet mentioned that we’ll have the fantastically talented Portland transplant Mark Colman on the couch?

As a special treat for all you early birds, afterhours will begin at 10:00 pm with another speical guest… YO! YO! YO!!!!

on the tooth fairy…

In the past two weeks we have become authorities on the whimsical little gal that flits and flies from house to house collecting the fallen teeth of children.

Authorities.

We have more knowledge, more education, more factual tooth fairy information than we could have ever hoped for.

The education, it all comes from our lovely 6 year old child who has at last count lost 2 teeth (though we expect wiggly tooth number three to come on down with in the next couple weeks as well… hell at the rate her teeth are going she’ll be back on baby food in no time).

K knows things. She knows things about all kinds of things and she loves to tell you.

For instance, she is incredibly fond of pointing out that a tomato is in fact a fruit not a vegetable as the food industry would lead us to think. The platypus is a mammal despite the fact that it lays eggs. You should never drink salt water, even if you’re really really realllllly thirsty.

These things are all true and she tells me these facts every day even though I’m the one that told her all of that in the first place. She also tells Dr. Normal. I’m pretty sure she’s shared that information with my mom & dad, her aunt & uncle, missburrows and everyone else she’s ever spoken to for more than 67 seconds…

But it was a great surprise to me the other day when she started naming off some lesser known pieces of information about the tooth fairy. She started thinking very hard about tooth fairy truths after one of her tooth fairy expectations was not met.

*Gasp*

One of her expectations of the tooth fairy wasn’t met???? Surely not! How can this be?

“What happened that you thought was off?” I asked her.

“She took the envelope” K replied.

I know I should have nodded and smiled and walked it off… but I didn’t. It engaged her, I may have even baited her a little thinking that my own tooth fairy knowledge was greater than hers. I am after all 31 years old have lost not only all of my baby teeth but my wisdom teeth as well…

“Of course she took the envelope” I said “you put the tooth in it silly, what did you expect her to do OPEN IT?

“Yes. She was supposed to take my tooth out of the envelope and put it in her sack with all the other teeth… it makes it easier later”

She may have added a barely audible “Duh” on the end of that, but I like to think she doesn’t think I’m so stupid that I deserve a “Duh” so I think we’ll leave that out.

K then imparted to me the tale of the tooth fairy how she wanders far and wide collecting teeth from all over the world and placing them in her little bag of teeth. I can only suppose that it’s a magical bag because in K’s version of things the tooth fairy was not hauling a garbage sack full of pearly whites at the end of her long shift.

“Then” K said excitedly “When she gets back to her place she gets them all cleaned up so she can hand them down.”

We were walking while we had this talk so I thought I had misheard her… Hand them down? Surely she didn’t say hand them down…

“What?” I asked.

“She has to get them cleaned up so she can get them ready for the new babies mom.”

Oh.My.Heck… in a pickle jar. Really? My kid just told me that baby teeth are hand me downs???

Really, she did she totally did. I nodded and smiled and told her how clever that was, I’d never thought of it before and in my book, that makes it clever. By the time we reached home she hadd her story completely justified. Proven. Ever wonder why some kids get cavities so quickly? It’s because the kid that had them before them didn’t brush enough. Or maybe they didn’t floss. Or MAYBE their mom and dad let them have too much candy all the time and lots and lots of juice. Why are some kids born with teeth missing? Because some kid forgot to leave his tooth out for the fairy, or some girl accidentally swallowed her lost tooth in her mashed potatoes… on Thanksgiving… at her grandma’s house…

Okay that was me, I swallowed my tooth in my mashed potatoes… but I was just a kid and it was an accident. Really!!! I didn’t mean to do it. My big cousin even wrote the tooth fairy a touching note verifying that I did in fact lose a tooth and was not scamming her out of that shiny quarter (thanks Mie)…

My point being, my kid knows more than I do about fairies and what not and no matter what I may have thought in the past I’m totally going to defer to her knowledge in the future.

Before we go I want to leave a couple notes here.

For the kid who got my baby teeth: I’m sorry about all those maraschino cherries I ate after brushing my teeth, but they were really good.

For the kid that gets K’s baby teeth: You’re welcome… her baby teeth are perfect and full of whimsy, just like the rest of her.

planning…

This Saturday I’m going to spend all day… from the very early morning until I’m so tired I want to curl into a little ball, snuggle up and wrap myself in a blanket with my darling husband next to me watching some sort of SciFi program while letting my brain decompress. Which is to say I’m going to WordCamp Portland, and all day conference/ un-conference hybrid for WordPress users and developers.

…Cami looks left…

…Cami looks right…

*chirp chirp*

So yeah… this blog… isn’t a WordPress blog. My other labor of love, Strange Love Live, it’s not hosted on WordPress either.

Yet.

I’m hoping that with what little I know about WordPress now plus the wealth of knowledge I’ll gain on Saturday I’ll be able to set my pages up right. get things squared. settled.

I don’t know how much actual writing I’m going to get done this week as I plan, prepare and ponder my options and solutions. On a positive note you guys don’t have to do anything at all. When the changes are made and all decisions are final I will just point my domains on over where they need to be.

Which will be there… somewhere… elsewhere on these interwebs.

Yet.

losing my libido… part 2

It seemed so clear what had to be done, after all my sex drive had been decimated and though I didn’t want to have sex, I wanted to want it. I wanted to feel like that sassy sultry woman I once knew as me. I wanted to throw on a cute little dress and some high heels and not worry that I might be taunting my husband or attracting his attention.

I wanted to feel sexual again, and I wanted him to feel wanted.

It really should have been a simple thing for me to do, pick up the phone, call the doctor’s office and let them know that something wasn’t right, but it wasn’t. You see with my sexual nature gone so was my ability to discuss sex with ease. I found it painful to dial the number to my doctor’s office and when they answered and asked what the reason for my appointment was, the closest I could get to an answer was:

I think the dose on my prescription may a little off.

They got me in relatively quickly, maybe a week later. I remembered the day my doctor told me it was okay to have sex once again and how happy I’d been… How far things had come. As I sat in the waiting room I nervously crossed and uncrossed my legs, fiddled with my purse and pretended to read a magazine or two. By the time the nurse called me back to the exam room I was a wreck. While she did all the normal things, weighing me, checking my height and blood pressure, asking me the reason for my visit, I concentrated on one thing only. Making it out of the room without crying. She left the room after telling me the doctor would be with me shortly and I resumed my nervous fidgeting until the doctor came in. It was one of the female doctors in the practice, the one who delivered our child. When she came in she smiled and asked me how my daughter was.

“Beautiful” I told her.

But that wasn’t the reason I was there, I pressed on and told her what I had said on the phone, that I thought the dosage on my birth control pills must be off. That I didn’t feel right, that I was emotional at all the wrong times. I cried while watching telephone commercials. I wasn’t myself.

And then sitting in the exam room I cried, not a tiny silent teardrop, not a little sniffle. I cried. I sobbed. I was so embarrassed that I cried more. But then it couldn’t have gotten any worse so as soon as I was able to breathe properly I told her the real problem.

I don’t want to have sex ever.

She nodded and patted me on the back and then asked a series of questions. The only thing I recall her asking with any clarity though was if that was abnormal for me. I snapped out of the sulks, my embarrassment was momentarily banished.

YES. Yes it’s very abnormal for me.

“Then we’ll fix it”

I breathed such a sigh of relief that moment. Even though I had been bat shit crazy and sobbing in the exam room I’d made myself heard. She knew what the problem was. We were going to fix it! It took a lot of trial and error, several different prescriptions and a bit more time. With each change the fog slowly lifted. At first sex wasn’t horrifying, but that wasn’t enough for me. I told her it still wasn’t right and we changed the prescription again… then I was once again back in the sex saddle but my moods became less predictable than the sea and I had violent mood swings.

Oops. Try again.

Eventually I had to be taken off birth control pills entirely because they were contributing to my high blood pressure and that’s when it happened.

It was almost a month after the last pill had been swallowed that I realized it. My daughter was no longer a baby, she was a toddler. My marriage had somehow survived more than a year of hormone driven insanity and sex disorder and by some miracle, or what seemed like one, I was me again.

Certainly imperfect, slightly kinky, fun loving, emotional and sex driven me.

***

On Friday October 17th at 10 pm Strange Love Live will have it’s first Q&A episode and the topic will be sex sex sex. It’s a big topic so to help answer questions we’ll be joined by MissBurrows and Melissa Lion. Have a sex related question for us? Leave it here or email me at strangelovelove@gmail.com. If you wish to remain anonymous on air please let me know in your email.

strange love live… look over there…

The latest episodes of Strange Love Live with guest Aaron Hockley are up now.

Go on… go get them.

As always you can listen to the show here, download them or subscribe so that you can always be the first to know when we’ve released a new episode…

***

Join us Friday September 26th at 9:30pm for another live episode of Strange Love. We’ll be starting 30 minutes early this week because I have to get my lazy self up and to Word Camp early in the morning (as does our guest). Oh, the guest… have I not yet mentioned that we’ll have the fantastically talented Portland transplant Mark Colman on the couch?

As a special treat for all you early birds, afterhours will begin at 10:00 pm with another speical guest… YO! YO! YO!!!!

losing my libido… part 1

Not long after my daughter was born, in the grand scheme of things, I started to feel amorous towards my husband again. I thought it would be forever but it really wasn’t that long at all.

The doctor told me to wait 6 weeks before having any sexual contact.

6 weeks. When he said 6 weeks it sounded very reasonable. Actually it sounded insane. I thought at that moment, 2 days after I had given birth:

6 weeks!! Are you INSANE? Do you know what I’ve just been through? Do you have any idea what’s just come out of my vagina? A person! A small person but a person none the less… and blood. AND A PLACENTA. I’m not having any sexual contact for 6 MONTHS!

That’s what I thought, but what I said was “Okay”. And then I climbed into a wheelchair and with my newborn in my arms allowed the nurse to wheel me out of the hospital. The entire wheelchair trip I remember thinking that the doctor was clearly insane.

3 weeks later I started to feel a bit more like myself and realized that I hadn’t had sex in months. I’d been on bed rest at the end of my pregnancy and vomiting for the rest of it, so sex had seldom been had. Yes, at 3 weeks when the arrival of visitors had started to slow, when I was walking almost normally and we had gotten K into something approaching a routine I somehow once again was thinking of myself as a sexual person. I wasn’t ready to have sex yet, but I was thinking along those terms.

When the 6 week mark hit and I had a check up with my doctor one of the questions I asked was “Can I have sex yet?”. He didn’t look terribly surprised and he answered me with the wisdom that an experienced OB/GYN has acquired. “When you want to have sex again, you’re allowed to”. I asked for and was given a prescription for birth control pills and was on my way out of the exam room.

I can’t relate the hugeness of the weight that was lifted from me. Not only was I thinking about sex again but I was allowed to have it. I would have danced out of the office if I could have (I’m a terrible dancer). When I got to the waiting room to find my husband and child waiting for me I smiled immediately. I wanted him. I wanted him right then and there but instead of doing it on the waiting room couch we packed up K’s things and headed out the door.

When we got home from my appointment there was so much to do and so little time and we went about our day… until… until K went down for her nap. While she was sleeping I attempted to ravage my husband.

It was slow going and I didn’t have an orgasm. He was scared to hurt me, I was scared to be hurt. It wasn’t entirely unlike losing my virginity. I felt safe with a man I loved but was still scared out of my mind and when all was said and done I was sore and somewhat bewildered.

Time passed quickly and before I knew it I was back in the swing of things. Our sex life began to approach half of what it had once been and I was content with that. I no longer had time to paint myself from head to toe with silver body paint, don a pair of leather hot pants and greet him at the door with a martini in hand but we did find time for a roll in our bed before we turned out the lights and fell asleep…

And it was good.

Until the hormones in my birth control pills kicked in and knocked every last ounce of passion out of me. Suddenly I went from a sexy and sexual woman who craved encounters with my husband to a lump of a stay at home mom who was perfectly content to be my partners best friend and nothing more.

I knew something was wrong.

I’d always had a very healthy sexual appetite. Like anyone, my libido waxed and waned, but never had I just plain not wanted to have sex. Something had to be done, but what? I tried feigning interest in sex, it did no good. I was half a step from finding the thought of sex with my husband repulsive and that just didn’t seem right. After 6 months of feeling like a part of me had been incised, scowling at Dr. Normal when he made a sexual overture and feeling guilty that I no longer wanted sleep naked because I was afraid he might try to *gasp* have sex with me, I finally talked to Dr. Normal about was happening.

I couldn’t carry on that way any longer, I needed to be me again and I felt strongly that my husband deserved to be with the sex kitten he married, or at least some semblance of her.

To be continued…

***

On Friday October 17th at 10 pm Strange Love Live will have it’s first Q&A episode and the topic will be sex sex sex. It’s a big topic so to help answer questions we’ll be joined by MissBurrows and Melissa Lion. Have a sex related question for us? Leave it here or email me at strangelovelove@gmail.com. If you wish to remain anonymous on air please let me know in your email.

my fortune…

It was a rare night for me, instead of the normal weeknight where I settle down to a family meal then tuck my little one into bed I went out with friends. We started by meeting up with the Our PDX folks for a drink (possibly two) and then moved on to a quick and terribly unhealthy dinner.

True to my weeknight form though I grew tired, as did my friends, and by 7:30 we were on our way back to my house. When I got home things were running smoothly, but just a little bit late. Dr. Normal and K had just wrapped up dinner and were hurrying to get K ready for bed, no doubt to show me things could run smoothly in my absence.

When we arrived home my lovely friends came inside to say goodnight and I slowly began to transition from the woman who had been out on the town in tight jeans, 3 inch heels and clip on devil horns back into the cozy comfy mama. Our friends departed after a round of hugs and kisses and then it was story time. Dr. Normal took K in her room as I took off my heels, removed my contact lenses and contemplated sleep. I heard his voice carry into the bathroom, he was reading the book she picked up at the library. A book I’d read only once but already loved.

After washing my face I went into her room and climbed onto her bed to hear the rest of story time and I saw one of the most wonderful things I will ever see in my lifetime…

The two people I most admire and adore curled up by the dim light of a lamp reading together, sharing a story, a tale, a dream…

They are so very beautiful.

And I?

Am so very fortunate.

rush hour

Half the Summer I looked ahead to the lazy days of Fall when K would be back to school and I could have some time to myself. When I could nap, luxuriate in quiet, have long lunches or read a book…

What was I thinking? What sort of bizarre dreamland was I living in and how is it even possible that I am ten times busier now than I was weeks ago when I spent all day with a 6 year old shadow?

On those long past summer days we slept in. We ate leisurely breakfasts. We played. We colored. We frolicked and blew bubbles! Now we get up at 6:30 in the morning, scarf down food, rush to get dressed, to make lunches and scramble out the door in an early morning mental fog.

I don’t get to go straight home and relax. No nap time. No long lunches. My task list is ever growing… Oh summer won’t you please come back.