My husband and I have a tendency to be negative at times, and we feed off each other with that. We can really dig a hole of negativity and bury ourselves in it when we feel like it. We also tend to lean towards thinking that people are out to intentionally fuck with us, and that God and Fate hate us. The worse one of us is, the worse the other is, and it really wears us down. We enjoy talking about it a little too much, with a lot of fuck that and fuck them and fuck that's...which is funny at first, but then you know, it gets to be self-defeating.
At the same time, we feed off each other's positivity as well. We will never be the do-gooder type of bubbly happy happy joy joy silly folk. However, we could be happier. And many times, we are. It's a challenge when one of us is feeling negative for the other to be positive.
Matt and I are lucky in so many ways. God and Fate don't really hate us. The biggest blessing is Baby Jude. The chances of us having a child were zero to none, so we were told. We tried in-vitro on a whim, not really sure if it would work, and the odds were against us. We prayed and prayed and prayed, and asked family and friends to pray for us, too. Praying is very unlike Matt & I, but we really wanted the power of positive thinking in this case to work for us. We truly believed in the cause.
And it worked. We have our Baby Jude. I STILL cannot believe it. How could we ever question our fate again? Or God? Seriously. We are as born-again as we are going to get. I thank God every day. I'm not sure if we even deserved this blessing. It wasn't supposed to happen, and it did. We are forever changed.
On a way, way less serious note: Another blessing for Matt & I is our body types. We are both thin. We can eat crap, and remain relatively thin.
I am into fitness, and I see people struggle with their weight and body type and eating habits every day. I'd like to say I'm a great person, but I'm really not. Matt & I are blessed with good genetics when it comes to fat ratios. We're just not fat! We do happen to be very active, but it's not really a choice we make. We just are. Well, I guess it is a choice. Or is it? It's a debate really. It's not like we say "we really should get up off our asses". We both are the type who don't mind parking far away in a parking lot. Walking doesn't kill us. And I see others circle and circle until they get that close spot, and they are usually overweight. And you can't use having kids as an excuse. We bring Jude all the time. He doesn't care if we park far away.
Here's the downside to our body type genetics: We both have so much more potential. We could both be really buff and cut individuals. But we think so much alike. We are minimalists. We're thin, people tell us we look good, so why bother with the extra mile crap? Matt's doctor just told him the other day that he is healthy and needs to do exactly what he is doing, and Matt hasn't worked out in 3 weeks and eats his fair share of crap!
I am doing the minimum in workouts and eating about 85% clean, but I wear a size 4, people are pissed b/c I'm not fat post-baby...knowing all that and knowing I'm not giving 100% as it is...what is my incentive? I'm getting by on the minimum.
Matt & I both have this roadblock. We are underachievers in our jobs and in this. It's like we get really close to achieving and overachieving, and then we stop ourselves and stay below that line. Why is this? It's like it's just too easy.
Now, after having baby, I have cut myself some slack with my first BFL challenge. I think it's okay for me to just go along while I figure out my schedule, and while I'm still nursing. I could really look and feel so much better. I am longing to go that extra mile my next challenge, and really push myself. I think I could be killer if I really pushed myself. I think I could achieve what many people only dream of. It's all right there in front of me, on a silver platter. So...what is stopping me? Something is. I'm not sure what it is, but something is stopping me. It's like I cannot just let myself be successful. It's hard to explain what goes on in my brain.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Common Driving Mistakes
I’ve noticed that many drivers don’t know the rules. I would like to refresh a few memories.
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1) A 4-way stop means stop, wait your turn, and then go. It does not mean stop and then go in and of itself. In other words, it does not mean stop and then go regardless of whose turn it is.
2) If you are taking a right at a 4-way stop, you still have to stop and wait your turn.
3) If you are taking a left at an intersection and don’t have an arrow, you do NOT have the right of way.
4) It’s okay to turn right on red if there is no sign that says “No turn on red”.
5) At the same time, you cannot turn on red if the sign says you cannot, so quit honking at me asshole and read the fucking sign.
6) A yellow light does not mean hurry up and speed through. Neither does a red light.
7) A green light does not mean slow down to almost a halt 100 yards before the light just in case it may suddenly turn red. (old people love to do this)
8) When someone is passing you on a two lane highway, this is not your cue to suddenly remember what a slow ass driver you are and speed up. This is in fact very dangerous.
9) Cruise control is your friend. If I pass you on a 4-lane highway, I am maintaining a constant speed, I caught up to you,so I went around you. It’s not personal. So why do you catch up to me again? Worse, why do I THEN catch up to YOU, AGAIN? Get with the program. I don’t feel like playing this game for 60+ miles.
10) Slamming on your brakes because you see a cop does no good. By the time you see the cop, it’s too late, sucka.
11) Slamming on your brakes to stop a tailgater also does no good. It’s not like they are going to say, “Oh, gee, I guess I AM being a jerk. I will politely back off”.
12) Honking at a semi-truck who cuts you off is pointless. They don’t give a shit. They can’t see you, or if they can they are bigger than you, and they do what they want.
13) If you ride a motorcycle, you do not have the right to run red lights so that your “gang” can stay together. I personally don’t think weaving in and around cars is a smart idea either.
14) Getting mad at bad drivers really does no good at all. Flipping them off just makes you look stupid. Honking isn’t going to teach them anything. I would suggest only honking if a wreck is imminent, or if someone doesn’t know the light is green. Otherwise, it’s pointless. Bad drivers aren’t going to change because you get mad at them. 9 times out of 10, I would guess that people are just not paying attention. It is not a personal vendetta against you when people drive so poorly or cut you off, get in your way, etc.
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Driving around here annoys the hell out of me. The list could go on and on. I am working very diligently at following rule #14, a personal challenge. I want to be a good role model for my son, not some cussing, bird-flipping, white trash maniac.
_____________________________________________________________
1) A 4-way stop means stop, wait your turn, and then go. It does not mean stop and then go in and of itself. In other words, it does not mean stop and then go regardless of whose turn it is.
2) If you are taking a right at a 4-way stop, you still have to stop and wait your turn.
3) If you are taking a left at an intersection and don’t have an arrow, you do NOT have the right of way.
4) It’s okay to turn right on red if there is no sign that says “No turn on red”.
5) At the same time, you cannot turn on red if the sign says you cannot, so quit honking at me asshole and read the fucking sign.
6) A yellow light does not mean hurry up and speed through. Neither does a red light.
7) A green light does not mean slow down to almost a halt 100 yards before the light just in case it may suddenly turn red. (old people love to do this)
8) When someone is passing you on a two lane highway, this is not your cue to suddenly remember what a slow ass driver you are and speed up. This is in fact very dangerous.
9) Cruise control is your friend. If I pass you on a 4-lane highway, I am maintaining a constant speed, I caught up to you,so I went around you. It’s not personal. So why do you catch up to me again? Worse, why do I THEN catch up to YOU, AGAIN? Get with the program. I don’t feel like playing this game for 60+ miles.
10) Slamming on your brakes because you see a cop does no good. By the time you see the cop, it’s too late, sucka.
11) Slamming on your brakes to stop a tailgater also does no good. It’s not like they are going to say, “Oh, gee, I guess I AM being a jerk. I will politely back off”.
12) Honking at a semi-truck who cuts you off is pointless. They don’t give a shit. They can’t see you, or if they can they are bigger than you, and they do what they want.
13) If you ride a motorcycle, you do not have the right to run red lights so that your “gang” can stay together. I personally don’t think weaving in and around cars is a smart idea either.
14) Getting mad at bad drivers really does no good at all. Flipping them off just makes you look stupid. Honking isn’t going to teach them anything. I would suggest only honking if a wreck is imminent, or if someone doesn’t know the light is green. Otherwise, it’s pointless. Bad drivers aren’t going to change because you get mad at them. 9 times out of 10, I would guess that people are just not paying attention. It is not a personal vendetta against you when people drive so poorly or cut you off, get in your way, etc.
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Driving around here annoys the hell out of me. The list could go on and on. I am working very diligently at following rule #14, a personal challenge. I want to be a good role model for my son, not some cussing, bird-flipping, white trash maniac.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Are We There Yet?
This is my perspective on what it means to a woman to have an orgasm versus what it means to a man:
NOTE: Graphic material
There is the physical versus the mental nature of having sex. For women it's more mental. For men it's more physical.
There are very few absolutes in life. Of COURSE women can enjoy the physical, too. And sometimes it's all physical for women. Of COURSE men can be very mental about making love, too.
But when it comes to coming, men have a true physical need, while women really do not. It just feels good. Sure, if we are brought to the brink and nothing happens, it might be slightly uncomfortable or slightly annoying, but not physically painful.
I'm not a man, so I won't pretend to be one, although I've tried several times, hence the strap-on. KIDDING! Seriously though...through my many years of observation, it seems that men get a buildup whereupon they need a release. I don't know if it's exactly painful, but from all accounts, it seems to be pretty uncomfortable. I think men really NEED to masturbate if they are not releasing some other way, whereas women just do it b/c they can. Women may feel a little on edge if they don't get that release, but it's not like we've got semen building up in our balls that need releasing. It's just a muscle contraction for us. Having an orgasm releases endorphins, which feels good, but we're not getting blue balls.
So when sexual activity commences, for men, there is a definite ending - they come. Everyone knows that is what the aim is (sometimes, I'm unprepared for where "the aim" is, heh). Everyone knows that when that happens, it's over. Everyone knows that when it doesn't happen, it's not really over.
Have I, as a woman, ever collapsed on top of my husband and then rolled off as if we're all down now after I came? Ha ha - that would be funny to try. Nope - we keep pushing forward until he's done, too. He'll push forward for me, too, in the opposite situation. But, something is different...there is a momentary lapse in thrusting wherein he glows in his achievement, and then it's just different if he keeps trying to please me. I mean...he's DONE. It's just not the same. Yeah, we can restart him sometimes, but then we're looking at a marathon fuck. More below on that. Whereas if I get there, I'm not done. My vagina doesn't literally close up for business afterwards. Now THAT WOULD be funny.
I don't know why people try to deny it. Men who act like they don't care if they do get there are lying. Men who act like they are still interested in pleasing a woman afterwards...well, those men are great sports, and I'd advise holding onto them if you have one like that. I personally do not feel satisfied if my partner does not get there, because I know that is what he wants.
I'm not saying I'm nothing more than a latex vagina for him to jerk off into. I know a lot is indeed mental for him in regards to the fact that it is *me* he is doing this with, and he wants me to enjoy it, too. I'm just saying that none of us is going to be happy until he gets there.
Which brings me to my point, cuz I do have a point:
It is not as important for me to get there every time, but he thinks it is, b/c it is important for him to get there.
The minute I catch on to the fact that he wants me to get there, like RIGHT NOW, it's never going to happen. I can't make people laugh on demand, I cannot pee on demand, and I cannot orgasm on demand. The minute he says "are you going to come for me?", the answer would be no. This is my mental hang-up. I do not think most women are like this. Not really sure actually.
There is a myth that the longer the duration, the better (note I did not say that "the bigger the better" is a myth, :) ). Now, I am all for marathon fucks and they have their important place in my life. Believe me. I'm not a huge fan of the "enter/stroke/cum" quick succession of events either. Somewhere between marathon and quickness, I am happy. When I feel like we all are trying too hard, the desire starts to fizzle.
I think he feels the same; if he gets the sense that I'm not having fun and just waiting for him to finish, I think it becomes a mental struggle for him. too. And rightly so. It's hardly ever like that, but you know, we all have our moments of imperfection in the bedroom. Lots of variables that would require way too much writing.
I must add there are those times that I will *not* be happy unless I do get there. I'd say about 2 out of every 5 times I feel that way. I let him know, and he knows exactly what needs to be done in those instances. :)
Communication, as always, is the key. I don't mind saying, "I'm sorry. It's just not going to happen". However, I don't want him to take it as a personal failure on his part. I know he feels that way, but it totally is not the case for me. I am happy with it 9.5 out of 10 times, even if I don't orgasm. I'd rather tell him this than fake an orgasm.
I wonder which one makes him happier though? He wouldn't want me to fake it, but would he be happier thinking I came than he would be knowing the truth? Hmmmm. One of those "is he better off not knowing" dilemmas wherein him knowing maybe just makes ME feel good and guilt-free, but does not do much for him. I can't ask him, cuz of course he will say he doesn't want me to fake it. So, he'd have to really think I finished. Interesting.
Further, knowing that he wants to on his end and needs it, I *do* consider it a personal failure when he does not, which is very, very rare, but it's happened. No amount of explaining will convince me otherwise.
It sounds like I'm a hypocrite and am pegging women and men into their respective stereotypes. Perhaps, but I do believe there is a marked difference between men and women in general, in what they want out of sex, and what an orgasm means to each.
Many similarities exist, of course, and this is the stuff that a good marriage is built upon. I don't think the differences are bad; just something men and women should know about.
NOTE: Graphic material
There is the physical versus the mental nature of having sex. For women it's more mental. For men it's more physical.
There are very few absolutes in life. Of COURSE women can enjoy the physical, too. And sometimes it's all physical for women. Of COURSE men can be very mental about making love, too.
But when it comes to coming, men have a true physical need, while women really do not. It just feels good. Sure, if we are brought to the brink and nothing happens, it might be slightly uncomfortable or slightly annoying, but not physically painful.
I'm not a man, so I won't pretend to be one, although I've tried several times, hence the strap-on. KIDDING! Seriously though...through my many years of observation, it seems that men get a buildup whereupon they need a release. I don't know if it's exactly painful, but from all accounts, it seems to be pretty uncomfortable. I think men really NEED to masturbate if they are not releasing some other way, whereas women just do it b/c they can. Women may feel a little on edge if they don't get that release, but it's not like we've got semen building up in our balls that need releasing. It's just a muscle contraction for us. Having an orgasm releases endorphins, which feels good, but we're not getting blue balls.
So when sexual activity commences, for men, there is a definite ending - they come. Everyone knows that is what the aim is (sometimes, I'm unprepared for where "the aim" is, heh). Everyone knows that when that happens, it's over. Everyone knows that when it doesn't happen, it's not really over.
Have I, as a woman, ever collapsed on top of my husband and then rolled off as if we're all down now after I came? Ha ha - that would be funny to try. Nope - we keep pushing forward until he's done, too. He'll push forward for me, too, in the opposite situation. But, something is different...there is a momentary lapse in thrusting wherein he glows in his achievement, and then it's just different if he keeps trying to please me. I mean...he's DONE. It's just not the same. Yeah, we can restart him sometimes, but then we're looking at a marathon fuck. More below on that. Whereas if I get there, I'm not done. My vagina doesn't literally close up for business afterwards. Now THAT WOULD be funny.
I don't know why people try to deny it. Men who act like they don't care if they do get there are lying. Men who act like they are still interested in pleasing a woman afterwards...well, those men are great sports, and I'd advise holding onto them if you have one like that. I personally do not feel satisfied if my partner does not get there, because I know that is what he wants.
I'm not saying I'm nothing more than a latex vagina for him to jerk off into. I know a lot is indeed mental for him in regards to the fact that it is *me* he is doing this with, and he wants me to enjoy it, too. I'm just saying that none of us is going to be happy until he gets there.
Which brings me to my point, cuz I do have a point:
It is not as important for me to get there every time, but he thinks it is, b/c it is important for him to get there.
The minute I catch on to the fact that he wants me to get there, like RIGHT NOW, it's never going to happen. I can't make people laugh on demand, I cannot pee on demand, and I cannot orgasm on demand. The minute he says "are you going to come for me?", the answer would be no. This is my mental hang-up. I do not think most women are like this. Not really sure actually.
There is a myth that the longer the duration, the better (note I did not say that "the bigger the better" is a myth, :) ). Now, I am all for marathon fucks and they have their important place in my life. Believe me. I'm not a huge fan of the "enter/stroke/cum" quick succession of events either. Somewhere between marathon and quickness, I am happy. When I feel like we all are trying too hard, the desire starts to fizzle.
I think he feels the same; if he gets the sense that I'm not having fun and just waiting for him to finish, I think it becomes a mental struggle for him. too. And rightly so. It's hardly ever like that, but you know, we all have our moments of imperfection in the bedroom. Lots of variables that would require way too much writing.
I must add there are those times that I will *not* be happy unless I do get there. I'd say about 2 out of every 5 times I feel that way. I let him know, and he knows exactly what needs to be done in those instances. :)
Communication, as always, is the key. I don't mind saying, "I'm sorry. It's just not going to happen". However, I don't want him to take it as a personal failure on his part. I know he feels that way, but it totally is not the case for me. I am happy with it 9.5 out of 10 times, even if I don't orgasm. I'd rather tell him this than fake an orgasm.
I wonder which one makes him happier though? He wouldn't want me to fake it, but would he be happier thinking I came than he would be knowing the truth? Hmmmm. One of those "is he better off not knowing" dilemmas wherein him knowing maybe just makes ME feel good and guilt-free, but does not do much for him. I can't ask him, cuz of course he will say he doesn't want me to fake it. So, he'd have to really think I finished. Interesting.
Further, knowing that he wants to on his end and needs it, I *do* consider it a personal failure when he does not, which is very, very rare, but it's happened. No amount of explaining will convince me otherwise.
It sounds like I'm a hypocrite and am pegging women and men into their respective stereotypes. Perhaps, but I do believe there is a marked difference between men and women in general, in what they want out of sex, and what an orgasm means to each.
Many similarities exist, of course, and this is the stuff that a good marriage is built upon. I don't think the differences are bad; just something men and women should know about.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Cell Phone Hell: The Generation Gap Widens
Cell phones.
On the college campus where I work, I challenge you to find a student who is not walking and talking on his or her cell phone. I would guess 7 out of 10 students are doing such.
And what, maybe 3 out of 5 drivers? It’s not illegal here as far as I know. Yet.
Really, just about everywhere I go, grocery store, movie theater, mall, it doesn’t matter, I see at least one person on their cell phone. At the very least.
So what, right? What business of is this is mine?
I’ll tell you why it’s my business, and I’ll let you in on a little secret:
Did you know that talking on your cell phone gives you automatic privileges and the right to ignore everyone in your path? What happens is that as soon as you commence to talking on your cellular, an invisible bubble engulfs you – a force field if you will, whereupon as you walk or drive, everyone and everything parts out of your path. Pretty fucking cool, huh? The stuff good science fiction is made of!
I didn’t believe it myself, but my husband and I tried a little experiment. We were at JC Penney’s around the Christmas holiday getting pictures of our baby taken. Getting pictures means you wait around forever to get the actual picture shot (if it’s a holiday), then go away for about an hour while Penney’s tries to figure out the best ways to rip you off by forcing you to look at millions of poses of your little baby…way more than you expected or needed to buy. I mean, you’d be a real asshole if you didn’t find the photos adorable and didn’t want to buy all you could.
Anyway, back to the experiment. Matt & I were shopping around waiting for the great photo finish. We noticed that when people were walking around while talking on their cell phones, several things happened:
1) They somehow could not see us, but we could see them! Even with our stroller. When walking towards other cell phone talkers directly in our path, we could tell they were in a very serious conversation, that they could not see us, and so when they came charging towards us, we were forced to dive roll to the side out of their way. That is very hard to do with a baby in a stroller. We were amazed that the stroller would not break the cell phone force field, but it would not.
2) The invisible bubble essentially created a microcosm of the cell phone user’s living room. What this means is that they had complete privacy to talk as loudly as they wanted about anything they wanted, with total disregard to everyone around them, because, they were basically in their own living room
3) Being on their cell phone and in the bubble gave them dibs to just about everything in the store! Cool!
Matt & I were skeptical, as I said. This couldn’t be true. Matt was getting frustrated that we also did not have this power, or rather, that we weren’t using it to it’s fullest potential.
So you know what he did? He got his cell phone out and started in on a fake conversation. He talked very loudly and with authority, as if what he had to say was serious business & required the utmost attention. He did this as I followed him around with the stroller.
I shit you not….people got out of the way! Matt just stormed through the store and everyone moved for us. The bubble really exists!
I normally would protest such asshole moves like this. I mean, we don’t want to be like the rest of the assholes out there. But, it was pretty freaking funny that everyone moved like that, and that we had the power. And to be honest, I was grateful to not be knocked down anymore by other cell phone users. It felt good to just rampage through the store as if we were very important, too.
So, now I believe in the invisible cell phone bubble and it’s immense power. Having this knowledge helps to explain several things to me:
1) Why students feel the need to call someone as soon as they leave class to tell their friends they are going to the next class now.
2) Why said students can cut me off, walk as slow as they want to in front of me in a zig-zag path, and scream in my ear about the party last night to their friends on the phone.
3) Why people answer their cell phones during movies at the theater, and talk as if there is no one around and like they are in their own living room: “Hey dude. I’m watching Spider-man. Yeah, it’s pretty good. Whaddup?” – all in a normal tone of voice! Groovy!
4) Why when people drive while talking on their cell phones they don’t have to obey traffic laws or even drive in a straight line.
5) Why people need to idly chit chat through the aisles of the grocery store, and why I am forced out of the way while they do so.
6) Why in said grocery store, the sneaky folks who use the hidden ear plug thingies always give me dirty looks when I answer them back. I’m breaking their force field, damn it!
7) Why cell phones have to be answered no matter what, no matter what cost, no matter what the circumstance, even when I’m out to dinner with a friend one-on-one, and so I’m forced to sit uncomfortably throughout their conversation while I look like a tool.
You see, I did not know about the cell phone force field. I was just using my phone for emergencies, or to quickly tell Matt when I’d be home, etc. The conversation always had a direct purpose. And I stupidly tried to be polite and respect others’ space, and to be safe about it while driving,
It never occurred to me to use the cell phone while standing at the cash register, or while in the bathroom stall, or while on a date with Matt. Had I known about the invisible force field bubble, I would have wielded this power long ago.
It’s never too late to learn. My next task is to work on keeping up with cell phone sizes. Every time I upgrade to a smaller phone, they get even smaller, and I can’t keep up. My phone always looks gigantic compared to the bubbly little sorority girl’s phone next to me in line at the bookstore.
I’m sure sometime in the future there will be some sort of nanotechnology where the phone will basically be in our body somewhere and we simply control it with our minds. Awesome! As long as the bubble is still a part of the program, and I’m sure it will be.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Scare Tactics
Where does one draw the line between legitimate safety concerns, and all out scare tactics?
I used to love “news” shows like 20/20 and Dateline. I’m not sure if I just got older, or if the shows themselves actually changed. It used to be that these shows had informative, fun, or interesting topics as subject matter.
I stopped watching in the 90’s though when every show’s tagline began with something like this:
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT INK PENS. YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. NEXT!!!, ON 20/20…
wherein you were forced to watch 20 minutes of commercials before finding out how the dread pen could kill you.
There was a skit about this type of thing on SNL with Jerry Seinfeld as host. It hit the nail on the head, as SNL will do.
Every freaking news show was always about how common household objects, or people on the street, or the neighbor’s cat, could kill you!
I started out at first believing all this shit, as one would do. I mean, this is 20/20. This is Dateline. This is television after all. Television never lies, right? A newsperson always tells the truth, right?
I remember thinking after watching such topics: “OH NO! I’ve GOT to get rid of all of my pens. What if I don’t? I mean, I really can’t do it in a practical sense, so what if I really do get cancer and die?”, then I’d lay in bed all night worrying about the freaking pens.
I am a natural born worrier, you see. It used to control me. Over the years, I have learned to control it. But, like with a drug addict, you don’t want to hang around the drug you are addicted to. I tried to avoid things that produce unnecessary worry at all costs.
The last straw, and when I saw the light, was a Dateline or 20/20 show about halogen lamps. Halogen floor lamps were big in the 90’s, and of course, we had one. The entire show was about how dangerous they are, and how many homes have burned down because of them.
I remember feeling panic in my stomach. I thought we JUST bought the lamp. Should I throw it away? Nah, nothing will happen. But what if it does? OH NO!!!
Then I saw the light, as it were. I thought, enough is enough. I am not going to sit around all day worrying about my house burning down. I will keep the lamp out of contact with the curtain, as any sane person would do anyway. Just remain calm and relaxed about it. Don't get worked up into a frenzy.
From that point forward, I quit watching these shows, and life has been much easier.
The topic has resurfaced though since having a baby. We subscribe to Parenting magazines, but not for long. The issues are filled with various things to be scared of because they will kill your baby. The thing that lit the bulb this time was an article about how basically everything in your house produces dust which can, well not kill, but cause your baby to have severe allergies. This is not a quote, but the general idea:
“There are tiny dust particles everywhere, even after you dust. These particles get into your baby’s lungs and cause allergies. You think you’re doing something good by putting a humidifier in your baby’s room? Think again. When not cleaned properly, all the humidifier does is cause mold of which the spores get into your baby’s lungs and cause asthma…” etc, etc.
At first I thought, “Oh no! I need the humidifier b/c it gets so dry in our house and baby gets sick from that , but we need to keep it clean b/c of the mold spores. I clean it, but what if it’s not clean enough? And the dust, and the cats…my baby!”
Then I got a grip. Listen, I cannot spend day in and day out worrying about the dust in my house. Dust exists. I can’t help it.
This is not to say I don’t do what I can. I do dust. Quite a bit. We vacuum. We clean. We do our best. Our very best. If it’s still not good enough, then we will all die I guess. But I’m not going to ruin my life by worrying about things I cannot control.
This is also not to say there is no value in informing the public of the dangers that may exist, of the newest studies, etc. It’s the way it’s approached that bothers me.
It’s obviously a marketing tactic for mass media. If you know there is going to be a show or article about something that might kill you or your baby, what kind of person are you if you don’t watch or buy it?
The problem is that we don’t know when it’s something to listen to or whether we should dismiss it.
It’s fine to be informed and to file things away in your “need to know” drawer. It’s quite another to worry about your very life and the life of your child over an ink ball pen or a lamp! They don’t have to say it that way, like your house will burn down if you don’t do such and such. Just because it happened to even 50 people doesn’t mean it will happen to you.
Shitty things happen and they always will. There is a difference between a freak accident, and things we could really prevent.
The public buys into this fear factor philosophy, which is why it sells so well. I can't tell you how many forwarded e-mails I get telling me to fear the gas station, the supermarket, the priest, not to mention the fact that if I don't forward the e-mail to 20 people within 20 minutes, I obviously have no friends, I obviously do not care, and I am generally cursed for life. Talk about a scare tactic!
So seriously, where is the line? I refuse to live my life scared as shit over everything that could burn my house down. At the same time, I do not want to ignore important information that could possibly save my loved ones’ lives. Who are what are the valid sources? Who can I trust?
I used to love “news” shows like 20/20 and Dateline. I’m not sure if I just got older, or if the shows themselves actually changed. It used to be that these shows had informative, fun, or interesting topics as subject matter.
I stopped watching in the 90’s though when every show’s tagline began with something like this:
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT INK PENS. YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. NEXT!!!, ON 20/20…
wherein you were forced to watch 20 minutes of commercials before finding out how the dread pen could kill you.
There was a skit about this type of thing on SNL with Jerry Seinfeld as host. It hit the nail on the head, as SNL will do.
Every freaking news show was always about how common household objects, or people on the street, or the neighbor’s cat, could kill you!
I started out at first believing all this shit, as one would do. I mean, this is 20/20. This is Dateline. This is television after all. Television never lies, right? A newsperson always tells the truth, right?
I remember thinking after watching such topics: “OH NO! I’ve GOT to get rid of all of my pens. What if I don’t? I mean, I really can’t do it in a practical sense, so what if I really do get cancer and die?”, then I’d lay in bed all night worrying about the freaking pens.
I am a natural born worrier, you see. It used to control me. Over the years, I have learned to control it. But, like with a drug addict, you don’t want to hang around the drug you are addicted to. I tried to avoid things that produce unnecessary worry at all costs.
The last straw, and when I saw the light, was a Dateline or 20/20 show about halogen lamps. Halogen floor lamps were big in the 90’s, and of course, we had one. The entire show was about how dangerous they are, and how many homes have burned down because of them.
I remember feeling panic in my stomach. I thought we JUST bought the lamp. Should I throw it away? Nah, nothing will happen. But what if it does? OH NO!!!
Then I saw the light, as it were. I thought, enough is enough. I am not going to sit around all day worrying about my house burning down. I will keep the lamp out of contact with the curtain, as any sane person would do anyway. Just remain calm and relaxed about it. Don't get worked up into a frenzy.
From that point forward, I quit watching these shows, and life has been much easier.
The topic has resurfaced though since having a baby. We subscribe to Parenting magazines, but not for long. The issues are filled with various things to be scared of because they will kill your baby. The thing that lit the bulb this time was an article about how basically everything in your house produces dust which can, well not kill, but cause your baby to have severe allergies. This is not a quote, but the general idea:
“There are tiny dust particles everywhere, even after you dust. These particles get into your baby’s lungs and cause allergies. You think you’re doing something good by putting a humidifier in your baby’s room? Think again. When not cleaned properly, all the humidifier does is cause mold of which the spores get into your baby’s lungs and cause asthma…” etc, etc.
At first I thought, “Oh no! I need the humidifier b/c it gets so dry in our house and baby gets sick from that , but we need to keep it clean b/c of the mold spores. I clean it, but what if it’s not clean enough? And the dust, and the cats…my baby!”
Then I got a grip. Listen, I cannot spend day in and day out worrying about the dust in my house. Dust exists. I can’t help it.
This is not to say I don’t do what I can. I do dust. Quite a bit. We vacuum. We clean. We do our best. Our very best. If it’s still not good enough, then we will all die I guess. But I’m not going to ruin my life by worrying about things I cannot control.
This is also not to say there is no value in informing the public of the dangers that may exist, of the newest studies, etc. It’s the way it’s approached that bothers me.
It’s obviously a marketing tactic for mass media. If you know there is going to be a show or article about something that might kill you or your baby, what kind of person are you if you don’t watch or buy it?
The problem is that we don’t know when it’s something to listen to or whether we should dismiss it.
It’s fine to be informed and to file things away in your “need to know” drawer. It’s quite another to worry about your very life and the life of your child over an ink ball pen or a lamp! They don’t have to say it that way, like your house will burn down if you don’t do such and such. Just because it happened to even 50 people doesn’t mean it will happen to you.
Shitty things happen and they always will. There is a difference between a freak accident, and things we could really prevent.
The public buys into this fear factor philosophy, which is why it sells so well. I can't tell you how many forwarded e-mails I get telling me to fear the gas station, the supermarket, the priest, not to mention the fact that if I don't forward the e-mail to 20 people within 20 minutes, I obviously have no friends, I obviously do not care, and I am generally cursed for life. Talk about a scare tactic!
So seriously, where is the line? I refuse to live my life scared as shit over everything that could burn my house down. At the same time, I do not want to ignore important information that could possibly save my loved ones’ lives. Who are what are the valid sources? Who can I trust?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Shaken, Not Stirred, sure. But Shaken, not Wiped?
I am an only child. This means, duh, I do not have brothers and sisters.
I did a lot of babysitting, but that’s not the same as watching your mother take care of a sibling every day.
I helped my grandma babysit my cousins, but the following subject never came up.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
An Education on What Happens at the Toilet
Or “Another Great Topic for Dinner Conversation!”
I am a woman, and I know what women do and don’t do on the toilet. They do not stand to pee. They sit. There are always exceptions, but I’m talking about the norm here. And I’m going to be talking about the norm throughout this essay.
So, women sit. We’re clear on that. No matter what we’re doing on said toilet, we sit (or squat if in public).
Another thing that women do: We wipe. No matter what has come out of what orifice, we wipe it nice and clean and dry. A sort of analogy to a famous saying men use for men at the toilet: If you wipe too long, then you’re just playing with it (but women are not so apt to play with it on the toilet. I’m not saying it hasn’t been done, but most women are of the opinion that the toilet is not the place to be. We want to do our business, and then hightail it out of there. Men seem to love it there, which is why it takes them twice as long to finish poo’ing and why they like to read encyclopedias in there. It’s their escape! So..very…sad.) Regardless, we wipe.
Unless we notice after the fact that there is no tp and then we are forced to drip dry, which never works very well, now does it?
So, women sit. Women wipe. Yay for Women.
Men.
My logic always told me that if women wipe, men must wipe, too. Of course they do for their sit down function (again, the majority here), but for the standing, they’d wipe, too, right? I mean, they just peed, so why wouldn’t they wipe it nice and dry? Sure, they’ve got some extra tubing, but does how long the tube is really matter? Sure, the end of the tube is farther away from a man’s body than a woman’s, but it’s still their body – the opening is still at the end of their body. I know “it” sometimes has its own mind and personality, but when they say that they are just making excuses - it is still part of their body.
Imagine my amazement when I discovered at the age of 22 that men didn’t wipe after all. Huh, whaddya know? They shake it! It’s a whole procedure where they sort of squeeze it to the end, and then flop that puppy around like there’s no tomorrow.
I see some faulty logic here:
1) No amount of shaking is going to get it nice and dry. Women know this, hence, we do not shake our ass all around trying to get it dry. Just imagine!
2) The toilet bowl is not so big and the men are not so accurate that they can aim the droplets produced by their shaking directly into the commode. Hence, the huge mess that most men make on the toilet bowl and the surrounding area.
My husband happens to be a very clean person. We do not have piss all around our toilet. However, I do tend to find a mess of piss on the rim when I lift the lid to clean it. He can’t ever see it, of course, being that he’s standing the whole time and too busy aiming his wiener. He does wipe the rim off most of the time though – I’ll give him that, but wouldn’t it be easier just to wipe the sausage in the first place?
3) Related to 1) , without wiping it, they are going to get little droplets of piss on their underwear. I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it. I know. Maybe not everytime, maybe not everyone, but it is possible.
I propose that men everywhere stop with the shaking and take just one square of toilet paper and dab that baby. I think you would like the results of this much better. You’d get it nice and dry, your underwear wouldn’t get a little dab of piss on it, our toilets would be cleaner, and when you come to bed, I would not feel a little wetness or piss droplets on my leg.
Plus, if you want my mouth anywhere near it, I’d prefer no urinal residue, thank you very much, or I’d at least like the residue to be minimized. I don’t like the thought of the piss only being shaken off the stick followed by being placed anywhere near my body. I mean, I’d prefer a full body bath beforehand actually, but, one can’t get too picky about these things or one would be considered an uptight bitch.
I wondered why the little boy I babysat for when I was a teen always gave me a funny, sideways look when I made him wipe it. I didn’t know! He is probably in therapy now because of me.
On that note, do I teach my son to “shake it” or what? “Okay, honey, now, just slowly squeeze it to the end and now…..SHAKE IT! YAY!! SHAKE IT LIKE CRAZY!! YOU GET ALL THAT PEE OFF OF THERE! Good boy!!!”, and then do I have to physically show him? I suppose with a little boy in training, he would just have to jiggle it a little or something. But he really won’t be using toilet paper for this??? Sounds like a job for hubby. Oh my.
I did a lot of babysitting, but that’s not the same as watching your mother take care of a sibling every day.
I helped my grandma babysit my cousins, but the following subject never came up.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
An Education on What Happens at the Toilet
Or “Another Great Topic for Dinner Conversation!”
I am a woman, and I know what women do and don’t do on the toilet. They do not stand to pee. They sit. There are always exceptions, but I’m talking about the norm here. And I’m going to be talking about the norm throughout this essay.
So, women sit. We’re clear on that. No matter what we’re doing on said toilet, we sit (or squat if in public).
Another thing that women do: We wipe. No matter what has come out of what orifice, we wipe it nice and clean and dry. A sort of analogy to a famous saying men use for men at the toilet: If you wipe too long, then you’re just playing with it (but women are not so apt to play with it on the toilet. I’m not saying it hasn’t been done, but most women are of the opinion that the toilet is not the place to be. We want to do our business, and then hightail it out of there. Men seem to love it there, which is why it takes them twice as long to finish poo’ing and why they like to read encyclopedias in there. It’s their escape! So..very…sad.) Regardless, we wipe.
Unless we notice after the fact that there is no tp and then we are forced to drip dry, which never works very well, now does it?
So, women sit. Women wipe. Yay for Women.
Men.
My logic always told me that if women wipe, men must wipe, too. Of course they do for their sit down function (again, the majority here), but for the standing, they’d wipe, too, right? I mean, they just peed, so why wouldn’t they wipe it nice and dry? Sure, they’ve got some extra tubing, but does how long the tube is really matter? Sure, the end of the tube is farther away from a man’s body than a woman’s, but it’s still their body – the opening is still at the end of their body. I know “it” sometimes has its own mind and personality, but when they say that they are just making excuses - it is still part of their body.
Imagine my amazement when I discovered at the age of 22 that men didn’t wipe after all. Huh, whaddya know? They shake it! It’s a whole procedure where they sort of squeeze it to the end, and then flop that puppy around like there’s no tomorrow.
I see some faulty logic here:
1) No amount of shaking is going to get it nice and dry. Women know this, hence, we do not shake our ass all around trying to get it dry. Just imagine!
2) The toilet bowl is not so big and the men are not so accurate that they can aim the droplets produced by their shaking directly into the commode. Hence, the huge mess that most men make on the toilet bowl and the surrounding area.
My husband happens to be a very clean person. We do not have piss all around our toilet. However, I do tend to find a mess of piss on the rim when I lift the lid to clean it. He can’t ever see it, of course, being that he’s standing the whole time and too busy aiming his wiener. He does wipe the rim off most of the time though – I’ll give him that, but wouldn’t it be easier just to wipe the sausage in the first place?
3) Related to 1) , without wiping it, they are going to get little droplets of piss on their underwear. I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it. I know. Maybe not everytime, maybe not everyone, but it is possible.
I propose that men everywhere stop with the shaking and take just one square of toilet paper and dab that baby. I think you would like the results of this much better. You’d get it nice and dry, your underwear wouldn’t get a little dab of piss on it, our toilets would be cleaner, and when you come to bed, I would not feel a little wetness or piss droplets on my leg.
Plus, if you want my mouth anywhere near it, I’d prefer no urinal residue, thank you very much, or I’d at least like the residue to be minimized. I don’t like the thought of the piss only being shaken off the stick followed by being placed anywhere near my body. I mean, I’d prefer a full body bath beforehand actually, but, one can’t get too picky about these things or one would be considered an uptight bitch.
I wondered why the little boy I babysat for when I was a teen always gave me a funny, sideways look when I made him wipe it. I didn’t know! He is probably in therapy now because of me.
On that note, do I teach my son to “shake it” or what? “Okay, honey, now, just slowly squeeze it to the end and now…..SHAKE IT! YAY!! SHAKE IT LIKE CRAZY!! YOU GET ALL THAT PEE OFF OF THERE! Good boy!!!”, and then do I have to physically show him? I suppose with a little boy in training, he would just have to jiggle it a little or something. But he really won’t be using toilet paper for this??? Sounds like a job for hubby. Oh my.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Pill Popping, aka Swallowing
Why is it that at 36 years old, I still cannot swallow pills well?
I have to drink milk in order to take pills. Nothing else works. Then no one can be in the room while I attempt my feat of pill swallowing. Especially Matt - he cannot watch me. I just cannot swallow with him staring at me [insert dirty joke here]. It's weird.
Even when alone finally, I sit there with the pill on the back of my tongue for what seems like forever, bobbing my head up and down trying to get my throat to accept this foreign object (more dirty jokes popping up in my head, but I'm not talking about that).
Once I finally swallow [hee - I can't get past that word!), half the time, the stupid thing turns completely sideways, wherein I can feel it slowly slide down my food tube inch by painful inch, until it becomes lodged somewhere between my throat and my stomach, forcing me to drink a gallon of milk to get it completely down. What's the deal with that?
The other half of the time, I swallow it completely wrong, it doesn't make it past the back of my throat, and I end up gagging and sort of puking it back up, and all the outer coating has rubbed off and it's all gross and stuff.
The culprit pill of the moment is my prescription prenatal vitamins, which I still take for breastfeeding purposes. I take one every day, and every day, it's a battle. They are not small, but they are not the biggest pills I've ever taken, and at least they are coated with that slimy stuff that makes them a tad easier to swallow (cuz you know, slimy=more swallowable).
I once tried to take these calcium pills clearly made for horses, and with no good coating. Forget about it. After 2 or 3 days of trying to force those suckers down, I gave up, and upped my milk consumptin instead.
So, how old am I again? Am I going to have to crush my pills or take all liquid medicine? Do we need to wrap my pills up in a treat like we do for the dog? Geesh.
I have to drink milk in order to take pills. Nothing else works. Then no one can be in the room while I attempt my feat of pill swallowing. Especially Matt - he cannot watch me. I just cannot swallow with him staring at me [insert dirty joke here]. It's weird.
Even when alone finally, I sit there with the pill on the back of my tongue for what seems like forever, bobbing my head up and down trying to get my throat to accept this foreign object (more dirty jokes popping up in my head, but I'm not talking about that).
Once I finally swallow [hee - I can't get past that word!), half the time, the stupid thing turns completely sideways, wherein I can feel it slowly slide down my food tube inch by painful inch, until it becomes lodged somewhere between my throat and my stomach, forcing me to drink a gallon of milk to get it completely down. What's the deal with that?
The other half of the time, I swallow it completely wrong, it doesn't make it past the back of my throat, and I end up gagging and sort of puking it back up, and all the outer coating has rubbed off and it's all gross and stuff.
The culprit pill of the moment is my prescription prenatal vitamins, which I still take for breastfeeding purposes. I take one every day, and every day, it's a battle. They are not small, but they are not the biggest pills I've ever taken, and at least they are coated with that slimy stuff that makes them a tad easier to swallow (cuz you know, slimy=more swallowable).
I once tried to take these calcium pills clearly made for horses, and with no good coating. Forget about it. After 2 or 3 days of trying to force those suckers down, I gave up, and upped my milk consumptin instead.
So, how old am I again? Am I going to have to crush my pills or take all liquid medicine? Do we need to wrap my pills up in a treat like we do for the dog? Geesh.
Monday, February 12, 2007
A Mother Ponders...
1) I wonder what age Jude will be before I stop checking in the middle of the night to see if he's still breathing? 1 year, 2 years, 5, 10, 21?
Which reminds me of a book my mother in law bought for my husband well before we had children. It's about a mother loving her son forever, which is fine, but the mother is still sneaking in his room when he is a grown man and picking him up in her arms and cuddling with him and stuff. That sorta freaked me out. I was like, um, okay lady, he's MINE now.
(and yes, I get the point of the book - that it's metaphorical and that the love of your child goes on forever. I especially get it now that I have a child. I'm just trying to be funny. Besides, it's good ammo for arguments: "well, your mom wants to climb through the window so she can cradle you like a baby! She needs to learn to LET GO! Freaks!" :)
2) The duality of motherhood: I want my baby to grow! I can't wait for each milestone to occur. I can't wait to see what he's going to be like when he's older. I can't wait until he can talk to me and fully express himself.
At the same time....
Stop growing so fast, Jude!
Which reminds me of a book my mother in law bought for my husband well before we had children. It's about a mother loving her son forever, which is fine, but the mother is still sneaking in his room when he is a grown man and picking him up in her arms and cuddling with him and stuff. That sorta freaked me out. I was like, um, okay lady, he's MINE now.
(and yes, I get the point of the book - that it's metaphorical and that the love of your child goes on forever. I especially get it now that I have a child. I'm just trying to be funny. Besides, it's good ammo for arguments: "well, your mom wants to climb through the window so she can cradle you like a baby! She needs to learn to LET GO! Freaks!" :)
2) The duality of motherhood: I want my baby to grow! I can't wait for each milestone to occur. I can't wait to see what he's going to be like when he's older. I can't wait until he can talk to me and fully express himself.
At the same time....
Stop growing so fast, Jude!
Friday, February 09, 2007
Welcome to the Club!
FIRST:
I am so out of touch with the online world. I feel like I never know what is going on anymore. For instance, when I do get a chance to read a beloved Blend's blog, and then I actually get a chance to post to it, after I write my most eloquent and wonderful response, I get a huge lecture from blogland - something about the change to beta and a gmail account. Now, I have several gmail accounts and I'm glad to use one of them if needed, but I don't get a chance to use it before my entire message is erased. Then when I sign into my own blog, I get another lecture about beta and the change to gmail. What-eva.
SECOND:
This has been the absolute week from hell. I'm going to cuss now, because it's been a fucking bad week. It's all about my job, too. I used to really like my job. Heck, I almost loved it. Now my love has quickly turned to hate. But you know what? I don't really feel like being negative right now, so I'm going to jump to the third topic:
DA CLUB
This whole motherhood thing blows my mind. It is the most awesome and breathtaking experience I could have ever imagined. I am beside myself with happiness, and still can't believe this has happened to me, and that I'm a Mommy!
One thing that fascinates me is that I feel like I am now a member of some exclusive club.
In some ways, I've always been somewhat of a recluse. I never really fit in to most groups, I actually have not been in any clubs, heh. But this is some kind of automatic membership.
So many people reach out to me now, it's amazing. Before, I was just sort of ignored. But now, the people who know I am a new mother will stop me and ask me how Jude is doing, and I am more than glad to share, to the point where their eyes glaze over and I know I better shut up before I lose them completely. It's like asking the elderly how they are feeling, ha ha.
Take my father-in-law's side of the family: I don't know them that well b/c my husband's parents are divorced, and we don't get a chance to see his dad's side that often. He has a HUGE family, by the way. Not even Matt remembers the names of all his cousin's kids. So when we go, not everyone knows me. I get those weird looks from the little kids. You know how little kids glare at you when they don't know you at family gatherings. The adults were nice enough, but no one really talked to me much.
Last time with Jude though, I think everyone talked to me, especially the wives/other moms. And I mean they were super friendly, really sincerely interested, and we had a lot to talk about. Well, mostly all about children, but still, once you get started on that topic, you can go on about it for a long time, I find. The little kids, too, are way more interested in "Jude's Mommy" than they were in that strange lady who shows up every now and again.
On a side but related note, one of the kids asked me who I was, and given the attention span of kids, I couldn't explain the family tree fast enough before he ran away and to play with a truck or something. I started by saying, "well, you know who Tom is, right"? Tom is my father in law, and I was going to explain that I was Tom's son's wife. But the kid didn't know who Tom was, so that thwarted my plan. So I was going through my head trying to figure who he knew and how I was related, before he got bored and ran off. Heh - I think all I had to say was "Karla", ya think?
Back to the topic:
When I take Jude out in public, I get tons and tons of people talking to me, or to him, and mostly in a positive light. Even if they don't talk, I get knowing looks, or understanding looks, or friendly nods.
Another aside: lots of people comment, "Good job!". I find that odd. I mean, thanks and all, but what does it mean? That he is cute & I somehow manipulated our genes to make him that way? Or do they mean he is well behaved? When they say good job, I feel like I scultped him out of clay or something. I don't feel I did a good job unless getting pregnant and giving birth in and of itself is a good job. I'll take the compliment for sure, it just never crossed my mind to say that to anyone.
ANYWAY...
I never realized how much I was ignored before. Further, I never realized how much I didn't like being ignored (I thought I liked it) or how much I like being involved with my community now. I feel like I have common ground with my fellow humans finally
At the same time, I wonder why that is. I mean, just because I didn't have children before, I still mattered. I was still a human being. I'm working hard to see the good in people and not be so negative, so I'm thinking it wasn't just the people who ignored me. Maybe I was closed off. Maybe I didn't look at people or reach out to people. But now that I have Jude, I do sorta look at people to see if they notice him. Maybe *I* am the one giving those knowing glances first.
In any case, I love being a member of the Mommy Club. I love talking to people about baby poop and spit-up, something I never thought I'd do, and I always rolled my eyes when I heard moms talking about it. I love it when people ask me how I do this or I do that or ask me for advice, because I am such a damn good mom and have a genius baby, ha ha. I like being social and having friends - should be a given, right? But I always denied that I wanted that in the past, that I needed to be social. I like being a "normal" person. Well, more or less normal.
But most of all, like the Grinch, my heart has grown 3 times it's size. I never knew I was capable of such love. I never knew such love existed. People tried to tell me I didn't know anything because I didn't have children. They were right. I knew nothing of this kind of love. Being a mom is by far the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. For once, I am going to appreciate and enjoy this happiness instead of worrying about whether or not I deserve it, or worrying about the happiness going away and so closing myself off, etc. (did I ever mention I used to have some serious ISSUES??). I'm just going to be happy, in spite of myself. I think I deserve it!
Now...if I could only fix that job of mine. Given some recent revelations in my life, it's pretty ironic that I've had such a bad week. I am truly being tested. And I'll save that for another post.
I am so out of touch with the online world. I feel like I never know what is going on anymore. For instance, when I do get a chance to read a beloved Blend's blog, and then I actually get a chance to post to it, after I write my most eloquent and wonderful response, I get a huge lecture from blogland - something about the change to beta and a gmail account. Now, I have several gmail accounts and I'm glad to use one of them if needed, but I don't get a chance to use it before my entire message is erased. Then when I sign into my own blog, I get another lecture about beta and the change to gmail. What-eva.
SECOND:
This has been the absolute week from hell. I'm going to cuss now, because it's been a fucking bad week. It's all about my job, too. I used to really like my job. Heck, I almost loved it. Now my love has quickly turned to hate. But you know what? I don't really feel like being negative right now, so I'm going to jump to the third topic:
DA CLUB
This whole motherhood thing blows my mind. It is the most awesome and breathtaking experience I could have ever imagined. I am beside myself with happiness, and still can't believe this has happened to me, and that I'm a Mommy!
One thing that fascinates me is that I feel like I am now a member of some exclusive club.
In some ways, I've always been somewhat of a recluse. I never really fit in to most groups, I actually have not been in any clubs, heh. But this is some kind of automatic membership.
So many people reach out to me now, it's amazing. Before, I was just sort of ignored. But now, the people who know I am a new mother will stop me and ask me how Jude is doing, and I am more than glad to share, to the point where their eyes glaze over and I know I better shut up before I lose them completely. It's like asking the elderly how they are feeling, ha ha.
Take my father-in-law's side of the family: I don't know them that well b/c my husband's parents are divorced, and we don't get a chance to see his dad's side that often. He has a HUGE family, by the way. Not even Matt remembers the names of all his cousin's kids. So when we go, not everyone knows me. I get those weird looks from the little kids. You know how little kids glare at you when they don't know you at family gatherings. The adults were nice enough, but no one really talked to me much.
Last time with Jude though, I think everyone talked to me, especially the wives/other moms. And I mean they were super friendly, really sincerely interested, and we had a lot to talk about. Well, mostly all about children, but still, once you get started on that topic, you can go on about it for a long time, I find. The little kids, too, are way more interested in "Jude's Mommy" than they were in that strange lady who shows up every now and again.
On a side but related note, one of the kids asked me who I was, and given the attention span of kids, I couldn't explain the family tree fast enough before he ran away and to play with a truck or something. I started by saying, "well, you know who Tom is, right"? Tom is my father in law, and I was going to explain that I was Tom's son's wife. But the kid didn't know who Tom was, so that thwarted my plan. So I was going through my head trying to figure who he knew and how I was related, before he got bored and ran off. Heh - I think all I had to say was "Karla", ya think?
Back to the topic:
When I take Jude out in public, I get tons and tons of people talking to me, or to him, and mostly in a positive light. Even if they don't talk, I get knowing looks, or understanding looks, or friendly nods.
Another aside: lots of people comment, "Good job!". I find that odd. I mean, thanks and all, but what does it mean? That he is cute & I somehow manipulated our genes to make him that way? Or do they mean he is well behaved? When they say good job, I feel like I scultped him out of clay or something. I don't feel I did a good job unless getting pregnant and giving birth in and of itself is a good job. I'll take the compliment for sure, it just never crossed my mind to say that to anyone.
ANYWAY...
I never realized how much I was ignored before. Further, I never realized how much I didn't like being ignored (I thought I liked it) or how much I like being involved with my community now. I feel like I have common ground with my fellow humans finally
At the same time, I wonder why that is. I mean, just because I didn't have children before, I still mattered. I was still a human being. I'm working hard to see the good in people and not be so negative, so I'm thinking it wasn't just the people who ignored me. Maybe I was closed off. Maybe I didn't look at people or reach out to people. But now that I have Jude, I do sorta look at people to see if they notice him. Maybe *I* am the one giving those knowing glances first.
In any case, I love being a member of the Mommy Club. I love talking to people about baby poop and spit-up, something I never thought I'd do, and I always rolled my eyes when I heard moms talking about it. I love it when people ask me how I do this or I do that or ask me for advice, because I am such a damn good mom and have a genius baby, ha ha. I like being social and having friends - should be a given, right? But I always denied that I wanted that in the past, that I needed to be social. I like being a "normal" person. Well, more or less normal.
But most of all, like the Grinch, my heart has grown 3 times it's size. I never knew I was capable of such love. I never knew such love existed. People tried to tell me I didn't know anything because I didn't have children. They were right. I knew nothing of this kind of love. Being a mom is by far the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. For once, I am going to appreciate and enjoy this happiness instead of worrying about whether or not I deserve it, or worrying about the happiness going away and so closing myself off, etc. (did I ever mention I used to have some serious ISSUES??). I'm just going to be happy, in spite of myself. I think I deserve it!
Now...if I could only fix that job of mine. Given some recent revelations in my life, it's pretty ironic that I've had such a bad week. I am truly being tested. And I'll save that for another post.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Santa Claus Freaks Me Out
A post holiday note: Santa Claus freaks me out.
Actually, I need to rephrase this: The people who play Santa Claus freak me out.
I mean, c'mon...I am very joyous around the holidays. I love Yuletide cheer, the Three Spirits of Christmas, Frosty, Rudolph, and Santy Claus.
Being childless for years, I haven't paid much attention to all of this kid stuff for a while, but this year after having a baby, I did pay attention.
I have something over on the kids (SPOILER TO FOLLOW: ALL CHILDREN YOUNG AND OLD, PLEASE STOP READING THIS AND GO TO BED):
I know that these are just men dressed up like Santa Claus. I'm not saying there isn't a Santa Claus, but these men are not it.
And they freak me out b/c I can see the man behind the mask, or the beard, as it were. I just see this guy who wants to put my little boy on his lap. What if he's a sex offender? Isn't this a sex offender's dream job?
Now, if it's one of those old guys with a real beard who is actually fat and really looks like Santa Claus, then that's cool, especially if he speaks Dutch and the USPS sends all the Dear Santa Claus letters to him.
But when I hand my little boy to Santa Claus, and Santa proceeds to stare down my tits and then maybe even flirt with me b/c obviously my 4 mo. old can't say what he wants yet, then my shit do be freaked. From Santa, I don't want any flirty conversation or any indication of your sexuality. I want HO HO HO and good cheer and jolliness and maybe even some real elves running about. I'd even take Will Ferrell's version of an Elf. At least have Mrs. Claus around to keep Santa in check. Don't we all need to keep our husbands in check from time to time? Santa is no different. I don't want to be reminded that Santa has a penis. EWWW. I want him to be more like a Ken doll - penis-less.
On a side note, I'm starting to watch children's shows now, and I much prefer cartoons, computer animation, or at least kids playing characters. Adults acting like children or imaginary child-like characters don't do it for me. Like the Doodlebops - they also freak my shit out...And all those grown men who sing funny songs in between shows on Nickelodeon. Go away, you freakity freak freak. I don't want to clap my hands or stomp my feet while you play your guitar, dreaming of rock n roll stardom - a day come and gone for you. Begone, and bring me a cartoon. :)
Actually, I need to rephrase this: The people who play Santa Claus freak me out.
I mean, c'mon...I am very joyous around the holidays. I love Yuletide cheer, the Three Spirits of Christmas, Frosty, Rudolph, and Santy Claus.
Being childless for years, I haven't paid much attention to all of this kid stuff for a while, but this year after having a baby, I did pay attention.
I have something over on the kids (SPOILER TO FOLLOW: ALL CHILDREN YOUNG AND OLD, PLEASE STOP READING THIS AND GO TO BED):
I know that these are just men dressed up like Santa Claus. I'm not saying there isn't a Santa Claus, but these men are not it.
And they freak me out b/c I can see the man behind the mask, or the beard, as it were. I just see this guy who wants to put my little boy on his lap. What if he's a sex offender? Isn't this a sex offender's dream job?
Now, if it's one of those old guys with a real beard who is actually fat and really looks like Santa Claus, then that's cool, especially if he speaks Dutch and the USPS sends all the Dear Santa Claus letters to him.
But when I hand my little boy to Santa Claus, and Santa proceeds to stare down my tits and then maybe even flirt with me b/c obviously my 4 mo. old can't say what he wants yet, then my shit do be freaked. From Santa, I don't want any flirty conversation or any indication of your sexuality. I want HO HO HO and good cheer and jolliness and maybe even some real elves running about. I'd even take Will Ferrell's version of an Elf. At least have Mrs. Claus around to keep Santa in check. Don't we all need to keep our husbands in check from time to time? Santa is no different. I don't want to be reminded that Santa has a penis. EWWW. I want him to be more like a Ken doll - penis-less.
On a side note, I'm starting to watch children's shows now, and I much prefer cartoons, computer animation, or at least kids playing characters. Adults acting like children or imaginary child-like characters don't do it for me. Like the Doodlebops - they also freak my shit out...And all those grown men who sing funny songs in between shows on Nickelodeon. Go away, you freakity freak freak. I don't want to clap my hands or stomp my feet while you play your guitar, dreaming of rock n roll stardom - a day come and gone for you. Begone, and bring me a cartoon. :)
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Don't hate me because I'm beautiful, ha ha!
The subtitle of this post is: BFL rocks.
Actually, I'm not even sure if it's BFL, so much as the general common sense of eating right and working out regularly.
I just had a baby in August, and (here's where you call me an "SB", you know who you are, but I'm lovin' it), I've lost all my pregnancy weight. All of it. Every last pound. Here's how much I've worked out since having the baby: zero. Oh, I've walked here and there, I take the stairs at work, but that's about it. But I'm a size 4 again.
I am almost certain that my miraculous weight loss has everything to do with doing 2 back to back BFL 12 week sessions right before I got pregnant. A) I think my body was able to handle the extra body weight from being pregnant, or rather, it was able to more easily get rid of it afterwards, and B) I picked up healthy eating habits from doing BFL; even though I'm not doing BFL right now, I still eat 6 times a day, and did throughout my pregnancy, still try to find whole wheat foods, non processed foods, etc, eat fruits and veggies and lots of water. Just not as strict as I would be when doing BFL.
The other thing that may have helped with weight loss might be b/c I'm still breastfeeding. BFing burns more calories.
Before it sounds like I'm a cocky bitch, let me put myself down before it's too late: The weight is down, I do look pretty good with clothes on, but I've got a long way to go before bikini time. My body fat to muscle ratio is all off. As in, I'm all fat and no muscle. It's not looking pretty. My belly has changed shaped and kinda just hangs there off my body. I'm not upset about it - I mean, it's the price you pay and I was so willing to pay it (I love my little boy!!!). I'm just saying that all is not perfect.
The first day of spring, I am going to start BFL again full force. I'm waiting that long b/c it feels good to procrastinate, and you know the time will go fast. Plus, I've always had a hard time working out in winter, with all the darkness and all the coldness. I never want to put on workout clothes b/c I'm so freaking cold all the time. And when it's dark, I sleep. So with the first day of spring, I'll have plenty of time to get in shape before bikini weather.
I'm scared to commit to it though. The biggest obstacle will be my son, God bless him. It's not his fault at all. I just don't know how I'll manage to work out, and take care of him at the same time.
1) He's pretty high maintenance. Putting him in the closet and ignoring him doesn't work.
2) I work full time, so the time I am home, I feel guilty if every last waking second isn't with him. When he falls asleep for the night, I'm too tired to work out.
3) My husband and I work different shifts, which means I'm all by myself most of the time, being a parent by myself. I never would have understood this statement before I had kids. Let me tell you, I have a whole new respect for parents, especially stay at home moms. It's really work. You weren't kidding. More rewarding work, but sitll work.
I know people who have serious workout programs going on who have much bigger obstacles than I do. I know it can be done. It's kind of strange getting used to be held accountable to someone, or rather, being responsible for someone else's well being. It used to be me, me, me, and I could work out whenever I wanted. Now, I've really got to plan things.
I don't think many people read this anymore, so I don't think too many people are going to mind all my bragging. I'm trying to get back into the blog world. I'm having trouble finding some people's blogs, and when I do and try to post, I can't for some reason.
Myblends: I'm going to try to get involved there, too. I don't know a lot of people on there now, and I have a bad habit of sticking to what I know, ha ha. I scared. :(
Tracker: I don't think I know ANYONE there anymore.
It'll all fall into place once I start BFL again, I think.
It's going to be fun being a "fit mom". I've always admired the fit moms, and always wanted to be one.
Funny, everyone thought I'd get fat (couldn't wait for it, in fact), and EVERYONE told me I'd go up a couple of sizes permanently (not talking about my online friends). Let me be the first to say:
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
...what were you saying?
I'm going straight to hell, I know. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't usually give myself credit, so it's all good.
:)
Actually, I'm not even sure if it's BFL, so much as the general common sense of eating right and working out regularly.
I just had a baby in August, and (here's where you call me an "SB", you know who you are, but I'm lovin' it), I've lost all my pregnancy weight. All of it. Every last pound. Here's how much I've worked out since having the baby: zero. Oh, I've walked here and there, I take the stairs at work, but that's about it. But I'm a size 4 again.
I am almost certain that my miraculous weight loss has everything to do with doing 2 back to back BFL 12 week sessions right before I got pregnant. A) I think my body was able to handle the extra body weight from being pregnant, or rather, it was able to more easily get rid of it afterwards, and B) I picked up healthy eating habits from doing BFL; even though I'm not doing BFL right now, I still eat 6 times a day, and did throughout my pregnancy, still try to find whole wheat foods, non processed foods, etc, eat fruits and veggies and lots of water. Just not as strict as I would be when doing BFL.
The other thing that may have helped with weight loss might be b/c I'm still breastfeeding. BFing burns more calories.
Before it sounds like I'm a cocky bitch, let me put myself down before it's too late: The weight is down, I do look pretty good with clothes on, but I've got a long way to go before bikini time. My body fat to muscle ratio is all off. As in, I'm all fat and no muscle. It's not looking pretty. My belly has changed shaped and kinda just hangs there off my body. I'm not upset about it - I mean, it's the price you pay and I was so willing to pay it (I love my little boy!!!). I'm just saying that all is not perfect.
The first day of spring, I am going to start BFL again full force. I'm waiting that long b/c it feels good to procrastinate, and you know the time will go fast. Plus, I've always had a hard time working out in winter, with all the darkness and all the coldness. I never want to put on workout clothes b/c I'm so freaking cold all the time. And when it's dark, I sleep. So with the first day of spring, I'll have plenty of time to get in shape before bikini weather.
I'm scared to commit to it though. The biggest obstacle will be my son, God bless him. It's not his fault at all. I just don't know how I'll manage to work out, and take care of him at the same time.
1) He's pretty high maintenance. Putting him in the closet and ignoring him doesn't work.
2) I work full time, so the time I am home, I feel guilty if every last waking second isn't with him. When he falls asleep for the night, I'm too tired to work out.
3) My husband and I work different shifts, which means I'm all by myself most of the time, being a parent by myself. I never would have understood this statement before I had kids. Let me tell you, I have a whole new respect for parents, especially stay at home moms. It's really work. You weren't kidding. More rewarding work, but sitll work.
I know people who have serious workout programs going on who have much bigger obstacles than I do. I know it can be done. It's kind of strange getting used to be held accountable to someone, or rather, being responsible for someone else's well being. It used to be me, me, me, and I could work out whenever I wanted. Now, I've really got to plan things.
I don't think many people read this anymore, so I don't think too many people are going to mind all my bragging. I'm trying to get back into the blog world. I'm having trouble finding some people's blogs, and when I do and try to post, I can't for some reason.
Myblends: I'm going to try to get involved there, too. I don't know a lot of people on there now, and I have a bad habit of sticking to what I know, ha ha. I scared. :(
Tracker: I don't think I know ANYONE there anymore.
It'll all fall into place once I start BFL again, I think.
It's going to be fun being a "fit mom". I've always admired the fit moms, and always wanted to be one.
Funny, everyone thought I'd get fat (couldn't wait for it, in fact), and EVERYONE told me I'd go up a couple of sizes permanently (not talking about my online friends). Let me be the first to say:
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
...what were you saying?
I'm going straight to hell, I know. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't usually give myself credit, so it's all good.
:)
Friday, December 15, 2006
Christmas is Coming!
I can't believe it's already December 15! I have been so busy. Thank goodness for internet shopping.
I barely have time to get on the computer, except for at work, where I'm actually working ****(LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). ****
Can't wait for Christmas this year though. I think it'll be fun. :)
Merry Christmas!!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
IFHIWPUFLIPOW
The letters in the title do stand for something. Only my mind holds the key. I'm sure I will forget what it stands for by tomorrow. Or in a couple of minutes.
I am a snob when it comes to these things in e-mail/chat, etc. I have singled out LOL and any variation of ROTF as incredibly annoying shortcuts. I don't think it's so much because they are shortcuts, but more because of what they stand for.
Laughing Out Loud. Okay, fair enough. And never mind it took me a whole year back in 1998 to figure out what the fuck LOL meant. (I could have asked, but I considered it a challenge to figure it out on my own. I actually thought it was Lots of Laughs for some time).
The problem is, it's overused. Really, how often do people Laugh Out Loud? Not all humor is Laugh Out Loud funny. LOTIBNOL should be used more, probably (Laughing On The Inside But Not Out Loud).
Plus, people are just abusing the hell out of it, LOL. I hate getting up in the mornings, LOL. I started a new workout today, LOL. I had some toast for breakfast, LOL. I may go to the mall tomorrow, LOL. After a while, one starts to ignore the LOLs, just like the boy who cried, "Wolf!", LOL.
Then to add an extra element of madness, we decide to volunteer the fact that we are rolling on the floor, sometimes even laughing our ass off! Really? Is it really that funny? And where did that idea come from? In regular conversation, I'm not sure I've ever said, oh my gawd! I'm rolling on the floor laughing my ass off!
I get that it's supposed to be a visual. You are supposed to visualize the person you are talking to LOLROTFLMAO. Whatever happened to: "You are so funny. You make me laugh". That's about 10 too many letters for the busy folk to type, I suppose.
Strangely enough, I am totally cool with BTW, OMG (in moderation), B/C, and using "4" in place of for(e), such as 4wrd and b4hand. I think it's just because those are just ways to shorten words, not ways to convey to your reader what you are doing. BRBGTP or HTP or whatever it is should be banned (telling people you'll be back b/c you have to pee. TMI! [another one I approve of, although people say "too much information" too much in general. The pregnancy boards were full of them. "ok, tmi, but...". Yes, yes, practically everything to do with pregnancy has to do with the uterus, vagina, and other female body parts. We get it. Now, get on with telling me that you have lots of discharge, just like me, so I can feel better about my medical condition based on the fact that a random stranger posted on a message board]).
Finally, I do have to give 5 stars to the use of smiley faces, even though it is also a way to convey what the typist is doing. It's okay to say I'm smiling. You don't need to know what I'm doing on the floor.
I totally overuse smiley faces, mostly because I'm so sarcastic and jokey, and I want to MAKE SURE that people know I'm KIDDING. I've been burned before, and it is hard to properly convey meaning in the written word. So, :) it is. If I'm really being over the line, then :))))) it is. If I want to flirt AND say I'm kidding, then it's ;). Let's don't leave out when I'm sad. :(
I draw the line at the overuse of emoticons. I find them to be extremely distracting. And too cutesy. :))))
I must confess that I am not always smiling or winking when I type :) or ;), but without a web cam, my reader will never know. :)))))))))))))))) Maybe I should use: :I, B :) OTI. Blank facial expression, But smiling On The Inside.
I am a snob when it comes to these things in e-mail/chat, etc. I have singled out LOL and any variation of ROTF as incredibly annoying shortcuts. I don't think it's so much because they are shortcuts, but more because of what they stand for.
Laughing Out Loud. Okay, fair enough. And never mind it took me a whole year back in 1998 to figure out what the fuck LOL meant. (I could have asked, but I considered it a challenge to figure it out on my own. I actually thought it was Lots of Laughs for some time).
The problem is, it's overused. Really, how often do people Laugh Out Loud? Not all humor is Laugh Out Loud funny. LOTIBNOL should be used more, probably (Laughing On The Inside But Not Out Loud).
Plus, people are just abusing the hell out of it, LOL. I hate getting up in the mornings, LOL. I started a new workout today, LOL. I had some toast for breakfast, LOL. I may go to the mall tomorrow, LOL. After a while, one starts to ignore the LOLs, just like the boy who cried, "Wolf!", LOL.
Then to add an extra element of madness, we decide to volunteer the fact that we are rolling on the floor, sometimes even laughing our ass off! Really? Is it really that funny? And where did that idea come from? In regular conversation, I'm not sure I've ever said, oh my gawd! I'm rolling on the floor laughing my ass off!
I get that it's supposed to be a visual. You are supposed to visualize the person you are talking to LOLROTFLMAO. Whatever happened to: "You are so funny. You make me laugh". That's about 10 too many letters for the busy folk to type, I suppose.
Strangely enough, I am totally cool with BTW, OMG (in moderation), B/C, and using "4" in place of for(e), such as 4wrd and b4hand. I think it's just because those are just ways to shorten words, not ways to convey to your reader what you are doing. BRBGTP or HTP or whatever it is should be banned (telling people you'll be back b/c you have to pee. TMI! [another one I approve of, although people say "too much information" too much in general. The pregnancy boards were full of them. "ok, tmi, but...". Yes, yes, practically everything to do with pregnancy has to do with the uterus, vagina, and other female body parts. We get it. Now, get on with telling me that you have lots of discharge, just like me, so I can feel better about my medical condition based on the fact that a random stranger posted on a message board]).
Finally, I do have to give 5 stars to the use of smiley faces, even though it is also a way to convey what the typist is doing. It's okay to say I'm smiling. You don't need to know what I'm doing on the floor.
I totally overuse smiley faces, mostly because I'm so sarcastic and jokey, and I want to MAKE SURE that people know I'm KIDDING. I've been burned before, and it is hard to properly convey meaning in the written word. So, :) it is. If I'm really being over the line, then :))))) it is. If I want to flirt AND say I'm kidding, then it's ;). Let's don't leave out when I'm sad. :(
I draw the line at the overuse of emoticons. I find them to be extremely distracting. And too cutesy. :))))
I must confess that I am not always smiling or winking when I type :) or ;), but without a web cam, my reader will never know. :)))))))))))))))) Maybe I should use: :I, B :) OTI. Blank facial expression, But smiling On The Inside.
Paranoia
I deleted all my old posts due to yet another sweep of paranoia on my part. The Internet scares me. Scary place, scary people.
Now, let's see if I can focus on new topics that have nothing to do with where I live, what I look like, what my loved ones look like, and what my social security number is.
Now, let's see if I can focus on new topics that have nothing to do with where I live, what I look like, what my loved ones look like, and what my social security number is.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Break Time
Nothing is wrong. Life is grand! Just no time to write and not feeling very creative. That will change soon, I hope.
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