By Kallen

I’m a skinny mom. It’s true. You wouldn’t believe the amount of shame those words bring out in me. Although everyone wants to be thin, I somehow feel that it’s unacceptable to admit. I’m not allowed to point out the obvious, that it’s bragging. I know I’m not alone in these feelings, recently I’ve noticed that other skinny moms are starting to fight against the hate that people spew at us.
Fat shaming is frequently talked about. We fight against the mainstream version of beauty, and argue that photo shop is the magazine equivalent of athletes using steroids. This is a fight worth fighting, don’t get me wrong. The message we need to be focusing on though, is loving yourself and being the healthiest you can be, no matter the size. Frequently, in the effort to empower heavier women, we shame the skinny ones. Most people are familiar with the meme that reads “real men like curves, only dogs go for bones.” Yes, great! Curvy women are beautiful! But why does that need to be followed up by the skinny slam? And what about the men who like thinner women? They’re automatically “dogs”? Suddenly, both thin women, and the men attracted to them are deemed wrong or bad when the original intent (I assume) was to comment on how attractive women can be at a larger size.
I can’t even tell you how often I’ve heard things like “I hate you, you’re so skinny.” It’s always said in a “loving” way, and that makes it even worse. What if I were to go around saying “I hate you, you’re so fat”? That’s somehow unacceptable. Everyone wants to complain about being fat, but no one wants to hear about you being thin. My clothes not fitting because I can’t stop losing weight because of breastfeeding is just as annoying as it is when you gain weight and nothing fits. I hate being five pounds away from being underweight, my bones stick out at weird angles. I’d love to have some mama cushion for my daughter to sit on while I hold her instead of feeling like I’m impaling her with my hip bone. The worst thing about comments like that is the total lack of acceptable responses. I end up stuttering over something about good genetics, when in reality that’s not all there is to it. It definitely helps, it’s set me up with a good start, but I eat well and take care of myself. My genetics actually work against me, because I need to put on weight and I can’t. I know, I know, poor me right? But it’s hard, and annoying! Being unheathily skinny is no better than being unhealthily fat.
I know most people who read this well write me off. “It’s not that bad”, you think I’m complaining just to complain, or that I want reassurance on how beautiful I am. That’s not it at all. There shouldn’t be any reason why I’d need to be ashamed to be thin. I know I’m not alone in that. I guess the point is, instead of building yourself up by hating on other people, let’s focus on everyone’s beauty, and being your healthiest, happiest you.


Taking out my IUD

by Kallen


First off, let me give credit to this blog post. I read it pre removal, and my story is extremely similar in the end.
If you’re not comfortable with your body, I suggest you don’t read any further. I’m going to use terms like vagina, and cervix *gasp*. Also, I’m not a doctor and this shouldn’t be viewed as medical advice.

My husband and I have been discussing having another baby. My daughter is 16 months old now, and I’ve been craving another little squish to cuddle. While in my quest for advice, a friend told me “if you feel a little soul tugging on your heart, asking for a space in your belly, listen. ” that was it for me, decision made. The only problem was that I had an iud. I’d had the Paraguard placed last August, and had no issues. But after making the decision to take it out, I NEEDED it out. Like now. Suddenly the thought of the foreign object in my body made my skin crawl. It wasn’t about deciding to try for #2, it was about the iud itself.
I contacted my midwife and asked if she could remove it for me. As a side note, I see my midwife for everything I can. If I never had to see another doctor, I’d be thrilled. Anyway, she told me she could do it. For various reasons, I didn’t know when I’d be able to make it in to her office. As my desperation to have it out rose, I asked if it was something I could do myself. She said yes but it was difficult. I also consulted Google (hence the aforementioned blog) and found that lots of women remove them at home. The difficulty seemed to be in holding onto the strings since they’re slippery with *cough* fluid *cough*. I thought it was probably easier to see if I could get my husband to do it. He was really unsure at first, not wanting to cause any damage by removing it ourselves. In the end he agreed to give it a go.
My cervix sits really low at this point in my cycle, so that was helpful. He reached in and felt around for the strings. My husband really enjoys learning new things, and was fascinated by how my cervix felt. I was cracking up, both from the absurdity of the situation and his face while he concentrated. Our daughter in the meantime, was sitting next to me overseeing closely. She was there when it was placed too, so I suppose it’s fitting.
After a while, my husband managed to grab it and I could feel it sliding down. But he had trouble getting it out so he went to see if he could come up with a new plan. He thought tweezers might help, but I was uncomfortable with that possibility. I gave it a try, and pulled it out on the first go. It was so easy! I didn’t feel any pain, and haven’t had any spotting.
It was so weird to see this little piece of metal and plastic that had been inside me for so long. It looks so innocuous it’s hard to believe something that small could prevent pregnancy. So we threw it away, and have officially removed the only barrier to adding to our family.
We haven’t told anyone that we took it out, or that we’re letting fate make the decision. It could be next month or a year from now. As of right now, we’re not actively trying, more just not preventing it.

Sorry for the tmi post. I hope it helps if you’re trying to decide if you can remove your own IUD. I also hope you check in to follow my baby journey. Eventually there will be a homebirth post, and a bunch of equally hippie esque things like placenta encapsulation. Fun!

How my gender reveal was ruined

by Kallen


This post doesn’t have much to do with parenting, it’s more about a grudge I carry.
When I was around 20 weeks pregnant with our baby, we went in for the typical gender ultrasound. We were dying to find out the gender of our first child, although I was sure it was a boy. We had a plan, a party, and the gender in a sealed envelope.
My mom had agreed to make a cocoon shaped pinata and fill it with pink or blue butterflies, candy, and other little things. We carried around that envelope with the ultrasound burning a hole in it for two days before the party. I was consumed by it for those days. Then when we gathered with our families, I passed it off to my mom who retreated to a bedroom to fill the pinata. Here’s where the trouble starts.
My nephew, at the time, was 7. He’s nosey, outspoken about things that his parents have a strong opinion on, even if he’s too young to understand (i.e. abortion), and not always the best listener. I get it, he’s 7.
Anyway, we told him to stay away from the room my mom was in. Repeatedly. He, of course, spied on her. After learning the gender, he immediately ran to tell my husband. After whispering in my husband’s ear, he received a kind, but firm, direction to not tell anyone else. At which point he shouted to everyone in the house that it was a girl. Since it was a beautiful July day, half the party was outside and therefore hadn’t heard the suspense-ruining news. Then, since everyone inside was pretending that they hadn’t heard, he ran outside to let the rest of them know.
After everyone had been informed, I told him that his pinata breaking privileges were revoked. He cried and apologized and I relented in the end. I tried really hard not to let this effect my feelings because I didn’t want my sweet girl to feel like my disappointment was due to learning her gender. It wasn’t. I was thrilled to be having a girl, but was totally devastated to have lost such an exciting and important moment.
I carry this with me despite the fact that my daughter is almost one and a half. It’s taken a huge toll on how I (and my husband) feel towards my nephew. I wish I could let it go. Right before my daughter was born, I got in contact with people to whom I owed forgiveness and let them know they had been forgiven, all in an effort to start the new chapter of my life without hate. I can’t let go of this. I want to, but I guess I don’t know how.
Next time, we’ll be doing the cake reveal or something, something that doesn’t allow for this kind of error. Or maybe we’ll just find out the foolproof way, and wait until they’re born.


Do I look like I’m holding back tears? I definitely am. Huge disappointment+hormones= crazy sobbing pregnant lady


Hi, I’m Kallen. I’m the new blogger that was mentioned in yesterday’s post. I’m 24, have one daughter who is 15 months, and I’ve been married for almost two years. My daughter is an extremely active and brave toddler. She has zero caution, preferring to jump wildly off a jungle gym whether or not there’s someone there to catch her. While her antics are trying at times, I believe that her bravery is based off the secure trust she has in her father and myself. We’ve been practicing attachment parenting, although I absolutely despise that term. I would instead prefer to call it traditional parenting (or some variation there of) since in the scope of history, things like formula and cribs haven’t been around very long. We breastfeed, and plan to let her self wean. In spite of a really rough beginning, she’s never had any formula. I even have a breastfeeding tattoo (among others).


This is right after it was done.
We bedshare and adore it. It helps everyone get way more sleep. Even though she sleeps horizontally and punches and kicks us all night, we love having her nearby. She’s cloth diapered, does baby led feeding (weaning), and is unvaccinated. I had her at home, and wouldn’t do it any other way. It was such an amazing, peaceful event. I hope to birth outside under the stars next time. We’re in the process of planning and building an earthship. (Check out why here ) We currently live in Phoenix, but are looking at land in Holbrook for the earthship. We don’t spank, or yell, although I’ve definitely been known to lose my temper. I’m not perfect, I’m just trying my best. I do daycare for a boy who is 9 months. It’s a good arrangement since we needed the money, and I take my daughter with me. I wish I could go back to being a SAHM though. I miss it being just us during the day. I’m only doing it until September though because that’s when we’re moving to build the earthship.
I am willing to answer any questions, and I plan to do posts on most everything mentioned above.