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Dan got home from flood cleanup Saturday night, sore, stiff and grateful. We both are. Everything in our house looks different after seeing what people down there are dealing with. This morning as he was making breakfast he said, “I’m sure glad our toaster isn’t full of mud,” not something we were particularly sensitive to a few days ago.

The family he was helping lost 2 homes and most of their belongings in the flood. They were living in a small house on their property while building a nicer place. The land had some minor flooding 10 years ago, water coming up to their driveway, in something that was referred to as a “500 year flood.” They felt pretty safe building a new home on the land since neither of them expected to live past three or four hundred years of age. Both the new and old home were filled with seven feet of water. Dan’s job was to help move all the furniture to a waste heap in the front yard so they could begin removing flooring and tearing out walls.

Apparently they had to break open their dressers to remove the mud-soaked clothes so they’d be light enough to move outside. Dan used the same words as the woman I met on Friday to describe the state of the house. “It looked like their belongings had been put in a giant blender.”

Family photos were destroyed and animals killed. Their neighbors lost a herd of llamas and the dog breeder nearby lost 25 animals.

The good news is that many people are coming to help. On Saturday over 3000 volunteers surged into the area. Good friends all over the country are helping me blog the heck out of this story and several of you have donated money through me or through charitable agencies. People are emailing asking what they can do, mailing donations, offering groups to do manual labor and one woman is putting together a group of volunteers to clean and preserve family photos. Dan knows of one stack in particular that was barely rescued from the trash pile.

Asking for help and then watching the beginnings of all of your kindness pour in is really inspiring. We’ve got a good start here but we can do more. I for one feel a little skeezy at the thought of accepting ad revenue on the site when so many people are linking to me for flood relief so Daring Young Mom proceeds for December will go to the relief efforts.

If you’ve ever been through something like this and you have some insight into what would have helped you, please share your ideas. I’d love any suggestions for relief or offers of help.

And, as our kids are bound to say when they call us collect from their freshman college dorms, “I love you. Please send money.”

For more information, please read yesterday’s post.

*Photos by Leroy Collinwood*

When I got a message in my inbox with the subject line — Re: This is About a Giant Miffy — my first thought was that it was a creatively euphemized inappropriate spam email. Then I noticed it came from my beloved Mir so I decided to keep reading about this here Giant Miffy. Here’s the deal:

Ty’s Toybox is giving away some Giant Miffy dolls. They are over 2 feet tall and appear to be even bigger around than “your mother” which is pretty big because I’ve heard she’s got a few pounds to lose. (Was that a good “your mother” joke? I’m trying to be “down” with all the “slang”, my little marshmallow “peeps”.)

If you’d like to win this fabulous prize of amazing proportions (and you know that even if you don’t, your little person REALLY REALLY does) head over to Ty’s and browse until you find whatever your child would choose second after they got their favorite possible toy, a huge giant stuffed Miffy.

Then, if you live in the continental US, come back and leave a comment about the second place treasure and you’ll be entered to win. The contest closes at 11:59pm PST on Wednesday, December 5th. I’ll do a random drawing and you’ll get your giant box-that-dreams-are-made-of in the mail.

Everybody gets automatic free shipping at Ty’s on domestic orders over $65 and you can use the coupon code HOLIDAY5 to get $5 off a $50 order.

In the past I haven’t done many of the giveaways that have been sent my way but how could I resist the chance to write a post with “GIANT MIFFY” in the title? Seriously. Oh, and I get one too, to give to “your mother.” (Got you again. Wow, I am really on a roll with that one.)

Click to Read My Product Review Policy

Laylee says, “Sometimes I think it’s good that poor people don’t have any toys or things because then their house will always look clean.”

I wonder if she’s been reading my blog.

She spent a good part of last night shaking and twitching with the pain of a sudden ear infection. So at about 2am we had the free on-call doctor out to our house to check on her and prescribe some antibiotics. It was the 3rd time we’d used the service.

Dan’s lucky enough to work for a company with phenomenal benefits, 100% health insurance coverage for EVERYTHING imaginable, including on-call doctors available 24/7 when you can’t get in to see your primary care physician, no deductibles, no copays.

As I was putting Laylee down to bed, clutching the Tinkerbell sticker the doctor had given her, I told her how lucky she was to have a doctor who could come out to her house anytime. She seemed surprised. “Not everyone has doctors who will come to their house when they’re sick,” I explained.

“REALLY?!” she gasped, “Like who.”

“Well, like almost everyone. Grammy, Papa, all your aunts and uncles and cousins.”

“WHY!?”

She gave me the same look she’d given me when I told her that not everyone had a house to live in and she said we should give all our money to them so they could buy a blanket that’s not made out of trash.

I don’t know why everyone doesn’t have a doctor who can come visit them. I wish we all did.

Have you got all your gear together yet?

A mother is someone whose phone call you can answer unembarrassed even though Vanilla Ice is blasting on your stereo while your kids dance around like maniacs in the background.

I’m not really sure what I say when I’m mad. I’m mad, you see, at the time.

Magoo squishes his eyes really close together, squinches his brows into a tight little mountain of peach-fuzzy flesh, flattens his lips out into a thin line grimace and repeats with venomous rage, “EVER. EVER. EVER. EVER. EEEVVVVVER!!!”

I’m really not sure where he gets that from. I may NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER figure it out.

Here is a snapshot of a day in my life with Laylee:

When I put Magoo in time out in the middle of the floor in Costco for continuously running away from me cackling, Laylee stated her approval. “MOM!” she whispered loudly, “I A-GREE with you!” Lately she whispers this to me pretty much any time I tell Magoo off. It’s nice to know my approval rating is on the rise.

She is in love with the cartoons that come on PBS every afternoon.

Laylee: I noticed that every time when I watch cartoons they always say ”˜dot ord.’

Laylee: So are cartoons on all day?
Me: No. They’re just on in the late afternoon when kids will be getting home from school.
Laylee: So, if I don’t go to school, they won’t COME ON?!

Laylee on science: Air can fit through really tiny spaces. You know? Air… is a lot like germs.

Last week Laylee proudly handed me a very old bag of nearly unrecognizable grapes and other sundries that reeked with a fabulously hideous reek. She said it was a snack she’d been making in her backpack. I told her calmly and firmly to dispose of the fermenting slime-fest expeditiously.

Tonight she was supposed to be sleeping but she had to get up to make an emergency request.

Laylee: Hey mom. Can you please remember to vacuum my room tomorrow because it’s covered in that gunky stuff that I made in the bag in my backpack that you told me to throw in the trash and then wash my hands because it’s putrid?

At the doctor’s office today, I distracted the kids from licking the floor by pointing out the Halloween decorations.

Me: That’s a great pumpkin. What kind of face does that jack ”˜o lantern have? Happy? Sad? Scary?
Laylee [studying it closely]: Iiiiiit’s…kind of nervous.

When we know better, we do better. I wish I’d known more about postpartum mood disorders before Magoo was born. I wish more people were more informed. It is this wish that’s caused me to write my 3-part series at Parenting about my experiences with postpartum anxiety and panic, the conclusion of which was posted today. Part 1 and Part 2 are still on the site as well.

It’s not fun to talk about. It’s an incredibly personal experience and there are so many feelings of guilt and inadequacy associated with it. I’m open about what happened to me because I want other people to know that the problem is real and that help is available.

Since I started this blog 2 years ago as part of my healing process, I’ve corresponded with several women who have gotten help because they finally realized that they were not alone. If you know anyone who’s not doing well after the birth of a child (I mean REALLY not doing well, more than the normal I-just-had-a-baby-OH-HELP not doing well.), any time during the first year, encourage them to find out more about postpartum mood disorders and help them find the support they need to heal.

I went to a support group at the hospital, to an OB, to a therapist and psychiatrist. I got the help I needed and my family is intact because of it.

Right now there’s a bipartisan bill in the Senate to do early screening for postpartum depression and offer more education and support to new moms.

It’s called the Mothers Act and I encourage you to call your Senator and urge her to support this bill. I rarely call my Senator about anything. We don’t exactly hang out and watch The Office together, but I called about this and I wish you would too.

I want them just like this. For always.

The cookie cutter package of childlike goodies goes to ~velia. Congratulations! Anyone else who wants to buy the cookies or other fun items from Kim and Jason can order with free shipping on their site through November 2nd with the coupon code DARINGYOUNGMOM.

I’m still dying, not yet dead. I think my brain has turned to liquid because I can hear it sloshing around inside my head whenever my ears clear enough to hear anything.

So I’m wondering if I’m the only person in the world who CAN. NOT. blow my nose with one hand. I was driving today and couldn’t blow my nose and drive because I need both hands to do it. One hand for each nostril or else trou-ble. So yeah. A lot of excitement in my life these days.