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"Delighted by the fist pair of tights I put on her... "Sock-pants, mama!" "

- Evalyn, age 3

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Posts Tagged ‘Jennifer Savage’

savagemama: Going to the mat

By Jennifer Savage

A few years ago when I was living in Eugene, Oregon, I was in a yoga class when a man named Gene couldn’t stand on one foot. He hopped up and down trying desperately to gain his balance while holding his other foot in front of him. Because it was Eugene, once the hippie center of the universe, we practiced in a circle (and often rubbed each other’s shoulders). And standing in a circle meant no one could take their eyes off Gene.

He looked to be in his late fifties. I pictured him as part of a quiet minority in a town known for hemp dog leashes and drum circles. I’m pretty sure he wore slacks in his daily work. Maybe even button downs. I thought he was probably a lawyer or a businessman who sat behind a desk most of the day. Maybe he took a walk at lunch but other than that he I didn’t imagine he got much exercise. In my little daydream about what his life must be like, he certainly didn’t do much yoga.

But, still, there he was, hopping.

Thud, thud, thud.
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savagemama: Panty Party – Mamas come Undone

Jennifer Savage

I stripped down to my underwear this week and had my picture taken by a man I didn’t even know. What can I say? It’s been an odd week.

Maybe I should do some explaining.

I got an email a few weeks ago asking some mamas to do a photo shoot – and underwear photo shoot. When I first read the message I was sure the woman who conceived of this idea had absolutely lost her mind. I thought, wow, that’s brave. I hope they have a good time. But as I moved through the week, I kept thinking about the photo shoot.

The concept, women of all body types, whose bellies had been stretched proud from babies, getting down to the basics with each other in a supportive environment, resonated with me. I have two young daughters and I’m always saying how I want them to be proud of their bodies. I saw in this an opportunity to, well, put up or shut up. Where else will they learn to be confident in their own skin if not from their mama? But the thought of having my picture taken in my under things terrified me.

I took a deep breath and emailed the woman in charge.

“So, is that a yes?” she wrote back.
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savagemama: Spiderman

By Jennifer Savage

My three-year-old daughter Eliza loves Spiderman. She tells me so all the time.

“Mama,” she’ll say in her serious voice. “I really, really like Spiderman.”

“I know you do, baby,” I tell her. “I know you do.”

I’m not entirely sure where the obsession started except that a friend’s son, Johnny, might have lit the spark. He’s since handed down t-shirts, coats, pajamas and muscle shirts all with Spiderman splashed across the front or back or both. Eliza was so enamored with Johnny’s light up shoes that she would wear them around whenever we were at his house. So the next time she needed shoes we found ourselves in Target.

“I don’t like these,” she said of every pair I tried to get her to try on. As I was reshelving shoes of every kind she slipped around to the next aisle.

“Mama, Mama!” I heard her squeal. “I want these!” She had found the same pair of light up shoes.
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savagemama: Shifting sands

By Jennifer Savage

Seth and I have been talking a lot about shifting sands.

We’ve been talking about our house in Arlee, the mountains there. The new fence. The driveway that needs repair. We’ve been talking about how much we miss it.

We’ve been talking about the mortgage industry, the battering we took trying to buy a house in Missoula. We’ve been talking about Dan, Chris and Steve and how all mortgage lenders seem to have one-syllable names, Blackberries that constantly buzz and a bag full of promises. We’ve been talking about was it worth it.

We’ve been talking about meningitis. Six months after it landed me in the hospital, we are uttering the words: could have died.

We’ve been talking about a new year, a fresh start. We’ve been talking about hope and confidence and a new take on stability. We’ve been talking about taking deep breaths and actually letting them out.

And we’ve been doing all of this talking over the chatter of our three-year-old, the sweet bleating of our 19-month-old.

We talk over their heads and tell Eliza, “Mama and daddy need to talk too.”
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Why: Meningitis sucks – Jennifer Savage

Why? Because there is really nothing better than the stories that make up your minutes, days, lifetime. The little things, the big ones. Share your story with us… we don’t interrupt, throw a fit or fall asleep. Or throw food, or turn up our i-pod, or roll our eyes, or…..

Let me just start there since it was the unexpected kickoff to my summer this year. A few weeks ago a screaming headache landed me in the ER on one of the first truly warm evenings of June. The light was blinding as I parked on top of an orange cone blocking the particular parking spot I chose. There were no others and I didn’t care. I told the woman at the front desk that my doctor had sent me, that she thought I had meningitis and that there was no way I could sit in the waiting room with the droning fan and screaming TV. She told me there was no way I was sitting in the waiting room anyway if I thought I had meningitis. She wheeled me into the first available exam room. A few hours and a spinal tap later, a doctor told me he had good news and bad news.

why_savagemengitis_1“You want the good or the bad first,” he said.

My head was throbbing at 10 out of 10 on the pain scale and I told him I didn’t give a shit. I actually said those words.

“Alright,” he said, “you’re not up for games. You have meningitis but you are a nice person and we’re going to take care of you. We’re gonna put you in the hospital.”

He could have told me he was going to send me to the moon and I wouldn’t have cared.

My head hurt so badly.
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