Everybody has a "soapbox" moment now and then...

I don't often use my blog as a soapbox, but tonight is an exception.  Lately, there has been an ongoing dialogue centered around the topic of breastfeeding- one of the only things about which I'd risk posting a controversial blog.  The modern arguments surrounding this old-as-Adam (or Eve, in this case) natural act have brought out the best in some and the ignorance in others.  Michelle Obama's recent mission to encourage breastfeeding among women who are the most likely to choose formula and least likely to realistically afford it has convinced me that she isn't just composed and well-spoken; she's smart.  She is reaching out to the population at the greatest risk for SIDS and obesity and helping them get the tools they need to breastfeed, which is proven to lower the risk of SIDS as well as obesity.  She's also discouraging the popular practice of paying for formula at the expense of the utility bills.  Her remedy is an obvious one, probably the same one most people would come up with in theory, but she's putting action behind the idea, and I'd be willing to bet that we'll see results.

Unfortunately, not everyone is supporting her efforts.  It seems that people are abandoning their own views of breastfeeding so as not to appear to be "friendly" with the First Lady.  Heaven forbid that we remain true to our values if it means that we might be accused of crossing political lines!  Michele Bachmann, who nursed five of her babies, has taken issue with Michelle Obama's cause.  It's interesting to me, because once you breastfeed ONE baby, you become aware of the undeniable benefits, so I would assume that after FIVE, you would be so keenly aware of the immunity, comfort, attachment and nutrition that breast milk provides, that you would support the effort to help others give that same gift to their children- regardless of your political agenda.  I'm just disappointed.  I've never been a fan of Bachmann, but in my opinion, she's lost all credibility.  Pretending to disagree with a good - no, great- cause just to prove that you don't have a liberal bone on your body doesn't sit well with me.  That's not even good politics.  

I hope these recent efforts encourage more women to breastfeed, even if they only plan to do it for a few weeks.  Chances are, those weeks will turn into months.  It is incredibly beneficial for newborns, and it plays a huge role in the mother/child attachment.  It makes so much sense financially - not just because of what you aren't paying in formula costs, but also, because the immune system benefits, there will be fewer doctor visits to pay for, and fewer missed school days - which means parents won't have to miss work to stay home with a sick child.  It makes sense that most women would choose to breastfeed, but it is so important to remember that while it may be a natural act, women need education and support to get through the first few weeks of nursing.  Natural or not, it isn't always easy, and that's exactly why I am so thankful that someone with such an influential voice is finally addressing these issues.  Hopefully, those that are tangling their view of this administration with their views on the specific subject of breastfeeding will sort out their convictions before they find themselves fighting against a worthy cause, and ultimately, agains themselves. 

I miss y'all this morning.

One of the best gifts a parent can give a child is a sibling... or in my case, five of them.  "Four sisters and one brother... Yes, one set of twins.  No, we aren't Catholic."  I used to give these answers on autopilot when people would ask about the size of our family.  I also got used to the question- well, really the statement: "You're a York!"  In college, before Christopher met my family, that used to really freak him out.  I guess that is a little creepy, when a stranger knows your last name just by looking at you.  It was just part of life to the six of us.  We seemed to share more than just a slight sibling resemblance.  It was more than that.  Actually, way more than that.

We shared rooms.  For a while, it was the pink room with the bunk bed set on McIntyre.  I got to sleep in the trundle, which in hindsight was really a drawer that happened to be about the size of a bed.  Later it was four of us down in the "big room" on Mordecai.  Yes, four.  We shared in Christmas traditions: The Christmas Eve pallet, Advent (B is for Bells, anyone?), matching pajamas and drawing names for Secret Angel.  We all shared in the embarrassment brought by our "Big Red" club wagon, and in the trips it took us on: Junaluska, Gulf Shores, Louisiana, Walmart.  I wouldn't care at all if walls could talk.  All I want to know is what Big Red would have to say.  We shared a love for our extended family; Meme's Sunday lunches, Mamie's Black Friday Bell Ringer tradition, and Big Dad's life-threatening road trips.  And Pid.  Capture the Flag, Kick the Can, the Shopping Center, bike rides, Monster, roller blading, The Swing, Sunday School.  Those things sort of belittle what our relationship with him really was... I just don't know how put the other stuff into words.  All I know is that when it comes to the things we shared, he was one of the most unifying ones.  We shared the grief of losing him and I think we also probably share that pre-thought impulse to pick up the phone and call him when we need advice or have big news.  I know that was one of my first instincts when I found out I was pregnant.   And that was 3 years later.  We shared in the mixture of relief and sadness as each one of us left for college, and in the excitement of each reunion we've had since then.  Now we share in a collective addiction to coffee (FINALLY, we won Austin over),  a hunt for inexpensive plane tickets and a love for a little baby named Sarah Claire.   

I miss my siblings more than I know how to say, and way more than I ever thought I would.  I HATE that we live so far apart, and I always imagine what life would be like if we could all meet for dinner or coffee or a quick run whenever we wanted.  I'm sure there would be plenty of arguments and differences- there always has been, and there always will be- but I would give just about anything to know that we could be there for each other when one of us had a rough day or when one of us had something to celebrate.  My siblings aren't just my siblings anymore.  They are my best friends, and I love them unconditionally.  I mean it when I say that siblings are the best gifts you can give a child; and - at least in our case - the more, the merrier.  

Healthy Competition and Humble Pie

I have a competitive streak in me that won't quit, which is why I have always been surprised by my love for yoga. Yoga is about as non-competitive as a physical activity can be, with all of it's self-acceptance and peaceful inward reflection and all. It's just not possible to be competitive in yoga - at least that's what I thought before last week's class.

So there I was, in downward dog, when suddenly I saw a boy across the room, bending in ways that would make Rodney Yee proud.  We went through a wonderful flow- plank, cobra, child's pose, downward dog, forward fold, lunge.  So far, I'm keeping up.  Gumby (I'm guessing that was his name) is nailing every pose, but so am I.  Tree.  Still keeping up.  Eagle- my favorite.  On one foot, all tangled up, I managed to hold the best Eagle pose of my life.  Beat that, Gumby.  He isn't too bad at Eagle either.  Then our instructor says three terrifying words: "Birds of Paradise." I think they should call a round-table yoga meeting to discuss changing this pose's name to "Vultures of Hades."  It's that bad.  I can't even begin to get into this pose.  I can't manage a full bind- not by a long shot.  I was banking on Gumby having the same handicap, but when I look over at him, there he is, in all-too-perfect form.  He might have smirked.  Probably not, but if he doesn't have a yoga-related flaw, he's got to at least have a personality flaw like arrogance or pride.

Sure, I felt a little defeated as I managed an amateur modification of the pose, and my normally relaxing Savasana was a little less about inner-reflection and more about planning my improvement before next Thursday, but honestly, I should thank him.  I think the only thing that's been missing from my workouts lately has been a little healthy rivalry, and I'd be willing to bet that this competition is all I need to shed these last few pounds of baby weight.

See you next week, Gumbo, and thanks for the motivational push.  You'd better pray that we don't do half-moon.