The other day I went to my normal doctor to see if he couldn't help me with this cold I've had for awhile. I haven't been there for a long time so they didn't know I was 13 weeks pregnant when I first came in.
The first they did was of course weigh me. I stepped up and we looked at the scale: 125.2 lbs. The nurse looked and chirped happily "Oh good for you! You lost six pounds!"
Again, I hadn't told her I was pregnant yet. She didn't know that I have been worrying about losing weight for the past three months. She didn't say this as a disparaging remark and had no reason to think it would hurt my feelings. In fact, she was trying to be super nice and encouraging, because what woman doesn't want to be thinner - right?
Actually, 125 is low for me. Unhealthily low. At 130 (my normal when I'm depressed/recovering from depression) I look like a zombie. My face loses all fat and sinks in. The circles under my eyes are more prominent. My hips and butt verge on boyish. At 125 even my breasts (which used to be ample) are gone. I look like a sad, sad, old woman. Six pounds isn't anything to celebrate. However, isn't it always the way that weight loss is celebrated - no matter the situation. I'm reminded of a joke by Kathy Griffin that when she found out her sister had cancer she was jealous that she was going to be so skinny.
I feel like this is a mostly female thing. I don't think that men go to the doctor and get a cheer squad on the scale. Honestly, do they even get a comment either way? When I was pregnant with Emily I gained one pound in a week. The nurse, without any prompting, patted me on the shoulder and said "Don't worry, that's probably all baby weight gain." Would anyone think to try and reassure a man over a single pound?
Even my daughter is stuck on it. She was a super chubby baby. Nurses would comment and say that she was a very pretty baby (she so is) but so fat. The problem there is the "but," as if that keeps her from being as pretty as she could be. And she wasn't even a year old yet!
I don't know when we thought that weight was suddenly the topic that was allowed to be discussed openly and without tact. I think maybe we should go back to discussing it like we discuss laundry: we don't. Not unless you're helping to do it!
Showing posts with label Opinion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Opinion. Show all posts
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Spread it around
On New Year's Eve I took Emily to the Hawaii Children's Discovery Center for their "Countdown to Noon" Balloon Drop. We had a great time playing there, we always do. The Balloon Drop was less than exciting, mostly because I had to pull Emily out from the big drop because parents kept stepping on her. Let me repeat that: Parents kept pushing her around and stepping on her. The kids were very careful around all the smaller babies.
I try to take Emily to the Discovery Center often. It's fun and she can touch and play with whatever she wants. However, I do try to avoid it when it's super busy because things can get a little rowdy. The exceptions are holidays like Halloween and New Year's. Also, every time we've gone to the Center when it was full Emily and I have both caught some awful cold. We get away germ free when it's not full.
So of course since I took her when it was packed we are now both fighting a particularly icky cold. This not only means we both feel terrible, we don't get to go do anything. We don't get to do anything because when my kid is a mess of germ infested snot I try to keep her away from kids who are not covered in germ infested snot. Call me crazy, but I just think it's good manners.
Of course now that I am sick, hot, tired, and really, really, crabby I have this great desire to find the parents who took their sick kid to the Discovery Center at New Years and pass this little snot-bug back to them. In my most vindictive I fantasize that it has already mutated and those parents will be blessed with at least a whole week of grouchy, unhappy kids and a hacking cough that keeps them out of school and bored with daytime television. Ha-ha-ha--achoo.
But I won't. Because I don't want to get people sick. Well not the nice people anyway.
I try to take Emily to the Discovery Center often. It's fun and she can touch and play with whatever she wants. However, I do try to avoid it when it's super busy because things can get a little rowdy. The exceptions are holidays like Halloween and New Year's. Also, every time we've gone to the Center when it was full Emily and I have both caught some awful cold. We get away germ free when it's not full.
So of course since I took her when it was packed we are now both fighting a particularly icky cold. This not only means we both feel terrible, we don't get to go do anything. We don't get to do anything because when my kid is a mess of germ infested snot I try to keep her away from kids who are not covered in germ infested snot. Call me crazy, but I just think it's good manners.
Of course now that I am sick, hot, tired, and really, really, crabby I have this great desire to find the parents who took their sick kid to the Discovery Center at New Years and pass this little snot-bug back to them. In my most vindictive I fantasize that it has already mutated and those parents will be blessed with at least a whole week of grouchy, unhappy kids and a hacking cough that keeps them out of school and bored with daytime television. Ha-ha-ha--achoo.
But I won't. Because I don't want to get people sick. Well not the nice people anyway.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Hau'oli Makahiki Hou!
I stopped making the typical resolutions a few years ago. Honestly, why start the year off feeling bad because after the holidays I am simply too tired to start a big new regimen of stuff. Besides, despite all the depression and insecurity, I actually like myself the way I am. So there.
Instead the new year is a great time to resolve to do things I want to do. So here is what I'd like to work on this year:
Learning to knit Continental style (I've always been an English knitter, I know how to do it the other way, I just need to perfect it)
Sew more
Sing more
Make more yummy salads for dinner
Sleep one full, complete night, all the way through (this is really a resolution for Emily)
That's it. Happy New Year!
Instead the new year is a great time to resolve to do things I want to do. So here is what I'd like to work on this year:
Learning to knit Continental style (I've always been an English knitter, I know how to do it the other way, I just need to perfect it)
Sew more
Sing more
Make more yummy salads for dinner
Sleep one full, complete night, all the way through (this is really a resolution for Emily)
That's it. Happy New Year!
Monday, December 12, 2011
All wishes are equal
I know I posted recently about how much I love Christmas and the Christmas spirit it brings. I still love the goodwill that gets thrown about. I still love the fact that people go out of their way to reach to neighbors and strangers. I still love it all. I do.
But I see the dark side to it too. Christmas is a time when more is asked for people having a tough time financially. People always have a hard time financially, holiday or not, but of course no one really wants to pay attention until the end of the year. I think in the face of a holiday that one of my friends affectionately calls "Giftmas" it's harder to turn away from the fact that some families can't do nice gifts or big parties. Some can't afford the extra food and fancy treats. Some are still trying to make the rent.
However, today I read some woman's post of CafeMom, about how appalled she was that in an angel tree charity (where children write down what they wish for and strangers have the option to pick a card and get them the gift) some of these children asked for things like xbox games or an ipod nano. She was totally turned off by the fact that some child who was "supposedly" needy had an xbox. Or wanted a nice toy. I have so many problems with this.
1) Take a look around. It's a bad economy. There are a lot of families that used to be doing fairly well that no longer are. They might have been able to afford an xbox before, now they can't afford the game. Instead of being put off you should be happy that, thankfully, you are still not in that position.
2) Just because they are poor does not mean they aren't children. Most kids today want the same things: electronics. A new mp3 player, video games, personal devices. Every year an item or two gets marketed up and every seven year old wants that particular thing. It's a consumer culture and children are a prime target. Do millions of toddlers need a Rock'nRoll Elmo? Probably not. Would they want it over some other toy if it hadn't been marketed to them? Again probably not. However, it has been and kids want what other kids have. Just because these children come from needy families doesn't make them any less susceptible to peers. Their friends at school will come back from break and all be talking about the new game or the new toy. In order to be part of the norm, part of the crowd, these children will want to be able to talk about it too. They, and their families, know it's not in the budget. Doesn't mean they can't hope.
3) It's called a gift! Coming from the other point, the charity is looking to get a child something they want that they normally wouldn't be able to get. Yes, they could probably use some new clothes and a few socks. But it's Christmas and I don't know any child who waits to ask Santa for some underwear. The point of asking an angel or a man in a red suit for something is that you're allowed to dream. You're allowed to ignore the fact that dinner is gonna be slim. That all year you bite your tongue and don't ask for things because you know there isn't money for it. This time though, this one time of year, you can ask for it. You can hope that someone, who doesn't have to worry about rent, might let you be a real, carefree kid this year.
4) The gift isn't for you. Yes, it's better to give than receive. Yes, it makes you feel good that you did something for someone else. Yes, that's all that should matter. But seriously, that is ALL that should matter, take the good feeling and go with it, don't go looking for affirmation. You're not gonna get a medal because you bought one kid a gift. You're not Mother Teresa because you dropped off some canned foods. You're a nice person, you might be generous, but you're not any better than the people who need the food or the gifts just because you can afford them.
For some reason there is this idea that the "poor" are some mystical beings who know the meaning of life and don't get bogged down in the material world like the rest of us. They are right up there with the "Noble Savage" and the "Mystical Wise Old Black Man/Woman." They live horrible lives and some how are just grateful to be a live. And all the poor children are like Tiny Tim, who is dying of tuberculosis and probably in terrible pain, but still takes joy in his meager, fictional, plum pudding.
It's a disservice to anyone who could fit in the above categories. Yes, family, love and togetherness are the things that will bring the most joy. However, if you are too busy assuming that these mystical people are just happy being alive then you're allowing yourself to ignore the fact that life is still a hardship for them. They might be smiling, but smiles don't fill the fridge. And Christmas, a holiday created specifically to have some fun during the darkest part of the year, it's even harder to fill up on pure gratefulness. Sometimes it would be nice to not have to be thankful just because you got a full meal that day. Even Scrooge knew this. Not only did he get the Cratchett's a goose, he bought the children toys! Tiny Tim was probably very grateful he wouldn't die, he probably really appreciated the full meal, but wasn't it nice that he also got to be spoiled with a toy too.
It's called a wish...you don't get to pass judgement on a wish!
But I see the dark side to it too. Christmas is a time when more is asked for people having a tough time financially. People always have a hard time financially, holiday or not, but of course no one really wants to pay attention until the end of the year. I think in the face of a holiday that one of my friends affectionately calls "Giftmas" it's harder to turn away from the fact that some families can't do nice gifts or big parties. Some can't afford the extra food and fancy treats. Some are still trying to make the rent.
However, today I read some woman's post of CafeMom, about how appalled she was that in an angel tree charity (where children write down what they wish for and strangers have the option to pick a card and get them the gift) some of these children asked for things like xbox games or an ipod nano. She was totally turned off by the fact that some child who was "supposedly" needy had an xbox. Or wanted a nice toy. I have so many problems with this.
1) Take a look around. It's a bad economy. There are a lot of families that used to be doing fairly well that no longer are. They might have been able to afford an xbox before, now they can't afford the game. Instead of being put off you should be happy that, thankfully, you are still not in that position.
2) Just because they are poor does not mean they aren't children. Most kids today want the same things: electronics. A new mp3 player, video games, personal devices. Every year an item or two gets marketed up and every seven year old wants that particular thing. It's a consumer culture and children are a prime target. Do millions of toddlers need a Rock'nRoll Elmo? Probably not. Would they want it over some other toy if it hadn't been marketed to them? Again probably not. However, it has been and kids want what other kids have. Just because these children come from needy families doesn't make them any less susceptible to peers. Their friends at school will come back from break and all be talking about the new game or the new toy. In order to be part of the norm, part of the crowd, these children will want to be able to talk about it too. They, and their families, know it's not in the budget. Doesn't mean they can't hope.
3) It's called a gift! Coming from the other point, the charity is looking to get a child something they want that they normally wouldn't be able to get. Yes, they could probably use some new clothes and a few socks. But it's Christmas and I don't know any child who waits to ask Santa for some underwear. The point of asking an angel or a man in a red suit for something is that you're allowed to dream. You're allowed to ignore the fact that dinner is gonna be slim. That all year you bite your tongue and don't ask for things because you know there isn't money for it. This time though, this one time of year, you can ask for it. You can hope that someone, who doesn't have to worry about rent, might let you be a real, carefree kid this year.
4) The gift isn't for you. Yes, it's better to give than receive. Yes, it makes you feel good that you did something for someone else. Yes, that's all that should matter. But seriously, that is ALL that should matter, take the good feeling and go with it, don't go looking for affirmation. You're not gonna get a medal because you bought one kid a gift. You're not Mother Teresa because you dropped off some canned foods. You're a nice person, you might be generous, but you're not any better than the people who need the food or the gifts just because you can afford them.
For some reason there is this idea that the "poor" are some mystical beings who know the meaning of life and don't get bogged down in the material world like the rest of us. They are right up there with the "Noble Savage" and the "Mystical Wise Old Black Man/Woman." They live horrible lives and some how are just grateful to be a live. And all the poor children are like Tiny Tim, who is dying of tuberculosis and probably in terrible pain, but still takes joy in his meager, fictional, plum pudding.
It's a disservice to anyone who could fit in the above categories. Yes, family, love and togetherness are the things that will bring the most joy. However, if you are too busy assuming that these mystical people are just happy being alive then you're allowing yourself to ignore the fact that life is still a hardship for them. They might be smiling, but smiles don't fill the fridge. And Christmas, a holiday created specifically to have some fun during the darkest part of the year, it's even harder to fill up on pure gratefulness. Sometimes it would be nice to not have to be thankful just because you got a full meal that day. Even Scrooge knew this. Not only did he get the Cratchett's a goose, he bought the children toys! Tiny Tim was probably very grateful he wouldn't die, he probably really appreciated the full meal, but wasn't it nice that he also got to be spoiled with a toy too.
It's called a wish...you don't get to pass judgement on a wish!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
No place like home
I am a transplant in my own home. I grew up in Hawaii, but I grew up on Maui. I now, after bouncing around, live on Oahu. People come up to me and ask me where I'm from and are surprised when I say "Here." But then I have to qualify because while I'm from Hawaii Oahu and Maui are two very different places and you can give me directions based on certain people's houses on my island but on Oahu I need street names (also, I use a GPS...Auwe!).
My being a stranger in a really familiar land gives me an interesting perspective. I get treated like a visitor and then, in the same breath, a local. I will speak pidgin at Foodland and midwestern at the Commissary (it helps!) I can see all the hardships of being a mainlander in Hawaii. I get how it can be totally frustrating, but I also see all the things that make home home. Just like in any unique culture there are good and bad. If you grew up with it the bad is a small price to pay for the feeling of belonging. If you are new here it takes a lot of patience to see the beauty in our calabash land.
I might take some work too. Which is why when people talk about my hometown of Maui and only complain about how it's just resorts and boringness it drives me crazy. I feel like Oahu is just city and hotels myself, but I get out to see the beauty of the island anyway. A rainbow everyday? Yes please. Driving through the Ko'olau's? Ahhhh.
Maui has the same things and some others. Pine forests, hunting, snow. Rainforests, hundreds of waterfalls in one stretch of road, black sand beaches. All there. Like warm. There is a desert! Like fish, more snorkeling beaches AND a protected atoll (Molokini) only about an hour boat ride away. You can seriously go from arctic wear to beach wear in just half a day of biking.
In short, I feel like if you don't like Maui you're doing it wrong. Give me three days. It's my home and, trust me, there is something to love.
Similarly, Oahu isn't that bad either. Wait till 9am when the traffic clears up and, trust me, there is something to love. I'm glad it's my transplant home.
My being a stranger in a really familiar land gives me an interesting perspective. I get treated like a visitor and then, in the same breath, a local. I will speak pidgin at Foodland and midwestern at the Commissary (it helps!) I can see all the hardships of being a mainlander in Hawaii. I get how it can be totally frustrating, but I also see all the things that make home home. Just like in any unique culture there are good and bad. If you grew up with it the bad is a small price to pay for the feeling of belonging. If you are new here it takes a lot of patience to see the beauty in our calabash land.
I might take some work too. Which is why when people talk about my hometown of Maui and only complain about how it's just resorts and boringness it drives me crazy. I feel like Oahu is just city and hotels myself, but I get out to see the beauty of the island anyway. A rainbow everyday? Yes please. Driving through the Ko'olau's? Ahhhh.
Maui has the same things and some others. Pine forests, hunting, snow. Rainforests, hundreds of waterfalls in one stretch of road, black sand beaches. All there. Like warm. There is a desert! Like fish, more snorkeling beaches AND a protected atoll (Molokini) only about an hour boat ride away. You can seriously go from arctic wear to beach wear in just half a day of biking.
In short, I feel like if you don't like Maui you're doing it wrong. Give me three days. It's my home and, trust me, there is something to love.
Similarly, Oahu isn't that bad either. Wait till 9am when the traffic clears up and, trust me, there is something to love. I'm glad it's my transplant home.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Extended Holidays
We're coming up on Thanksgiving here in the U.S. and soon after it is officially acceptable to put up your Christmas decorations. At least in our neighborhood.
I've noticed in my adult life that we, as an American society, have a few extra traditions regarding end of the year holidays. The rehashing of the "War on Christmas" where saying "Happy Holidays" is a sign of our moral decline and being inclusive is, for at least one season, Unamerican and Unchristian. And then the cries of "Foul" on early Christmas decorations. Anything earlier than Thanksgiving is decried on Facebook, Twitter, Blogs, and general life. I even saw a photo floating around of Nordstrom's sign declaring they will not deck their halls early (but it doesn't mean you shouldn't start shopping early).
However, I will not be complaining about these things. The winter holidays are great. Really great. They are built to remind us, in the bleakest part of the year, to be joyful. To be happy you're surviving winter and to hold people you love close. Even presents, that gateway to evil commercialism, is an excuse to really think about the people you love and try to understand what they enjoy. It's an excuse to work for something really pure: a happy smile. Holidays are great. Therefore I am happy to extend them.
Growing up, we celebrated Christmas for the whole 12 days. I loved celebrating from December 1 to January 6. After most New Year Resolutions end you still have Christmas. But even that is too short. I am all for extending before December 1 and keeping it going till February. Afterall, don't we always say that the charity, love, and goodwill shown at the holidays should be practiced year round? Well why not practice it with decorations too.
So this year I started watching Hallmark Christmas movies in November. I spent every night having my heart warmed by sticky sweet stories that ended well and always reminded you that family and love are paramount. I spent everyday reminded of magic in the world, either by miracle, a elf and sleigh, or pure goodwill. Every wreath, every decoration, every song about joy and birth, reminded me about my blessings and my ability to offer love to other people.
Now we are coming up on the day where we will eat in abundance. How lucky that we can do so. I have been cooking all week. (I made 22 pies.) I have braved the supermarkets. I have cleaned and cleaned. And because I am filled with the holiday spirit I have done it cheerfully. (Even with a toddler.)
I love the holidays and I love them long. All of them from Thanksgiving to Twelfth Night. From Chanukah to Yule. I say keep the love going until Valentines and then keep it going some more.
Happy Holidays!
I've noticed in my adult life that we, as an American society, have a few extra traditions regarding end of the year holidays. The rehashing of the "War on Christmas" where saying "Happy Holidays" is a sign of our moral decline and being inclusive is, for at least one season, Unamerican and Unchristian. And then the cries of "Foul" on early Christmas decorations. Anything earlier than Thanksgiving is decried on Facebook, Twitter, Blogs, and general life. I even saw a photo floating around of Nordstrom's sign declaring they will not deck their halls early (but it doesn't mean you shouldn't start shopping early).
However, I will not be complaining about these things. The winter holidays are great. Really great. They are built to remind us, in the bleakest part of the year, to be joyful. To be happy you're surviving winter and to hold people you love close. Even presents, that gateway to evil commercialism, is an excuse to really think about the people you love and try to understand what they enjoy. It's an excuse to work for something really pure: a happy smile. Holidays are great. Therefore I am happy to extend them.
Growing up, we celebrated Christmas for the whole 12 days. I loved celebrating from December 1 to January 6. After most New Year Resolutions end you still have Christmas. But even that is too short. I am all for extending before December 1 and keeping it going till February. Afterall, don't we always say that the charity, love, and goodwill shown at the holidays should be practiced year round? Well why not practice it with decorations too.
So this year I started watching Hallmark Christmas movies in November. I spent every night having my heart warmed by sticky sweet stories that ended well and always reminded you that family and love are paramount. I spent everyday reminded of magic in the world, either by miracle, a elf and sleigh, or pure goodwill. Every wreath, every decoration, every song about joy and birth, reminded me about my blessings and my ability to offer love to other people.
Now we are coming up on the day where we will eat in abundance. How lucky that we can do so. I have been cooking all week. (I made 22 pies.) I have braved the supermarkets. I have cleaned and cleaned. And because I am filled with the holiday spirit I have done it cheerfully. (Even with a toddler.)
I love the holidays and I love them long. All of them from Thanksgiving to Twelfth Night. From Chanukah to Yule. I say keep the love going until Valentines and then keep it going some more.
Happy Holidays!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Extrovert?
This past week I've bumped into two learning experiences that make me want to reevaluate how I see myself.
Earlier in the week I went on an excursion with two other stay-at-home women. We enjoyed the company and lamented that it was rather rare for us (as individuals) to get out of the house. I lamented that I was having trouble finding friends here in Oahu because I was so shy. Both of them together instantly exclaimed "You're shy? We never would have guessed that!"
Hmm.
Later in the week I attended a training class for Air Force Key Spouses. Part of the class was finding your "True Color" which is a very quick and dirty personality identifier. I fond myself with one other person sitting at the Blue Table. Blue people are described as:
Hmm. Again.
I've always seen myself as shy. It's extremely difficult for me to talk to people or be in a situation where I don't know many people. I get nervous if I think someone can see me drive. I often am stumped for things to say and initial conversations usually die awkwardly. After socializing with lots of people I feel drained.
That being said my desire for human contact trumps my social anxiety. I would rather feel uncomfortable and weird if it means ending the loneliness. Now that I've run into more evidence that people see me as extroverted I wonder if it means what I thought it did. Perhaps extroverts aren't people who easily flow through relationships and conversations as second nature. Perhaps they all work hard at it, plan it, practice it, until they achieve the look of someone who doesn't get nervous surround by strangers. Perhaps it's like being brave. Where you act in spite of your fear rather than because you have no fear. I am shy, but I put myself out there anyway, in spite of it. I might be brave. Or I might be extroverted.
It's times like these that I wish I could listen in to the thoughts of someone else. I'd love to know if all those people who seems so outgoing to me have the same fears, worries, and doubts I do. I want to know if they had to spend years practicing how to keep a conversation flowing or how to introduce themselves in an easy and welcoming way. At the same time as I listen to others thoughts I really want to see myself through their eyes. Do they see all the hurt, fear, and turmoil I feel? Am I as transparent as I feel I am? Or do they think I'm like them. Outgoing, friendly, the person I really try to be.
Ever asked yourself if maybe you might actually have the thing you really want? What happens when the answer is yes?
Earlier in the week I went on an excursion with two other stay-at-home women. We enjoyed the company and lamented that it was rather rare for us (as individuals) to get out of the house. I lamented that I was having trouble finding friends here in Oahu because I was so shy. Both of them together instantly exclaimed "You're shy? We never would have guessed that!"
Hmm.
Later in the week I attended a training class for Air Force Key Spouses. Part of the class was finding your "True Color" which is a very quick and dirty personality identifier. I fond myself with one other person sitting at the Blue Table. Blue people are described as:
Your communication style creates peace and harmony. As a Blue personality you are gifted with tremendous people skills.Along with the above our class leader also mentioned that Blue people tend to be more extroverted.You have a strong need to make a difference in the lives of other people. This strength is immediately noticeable in the way you make heart felt connections and bring out the best in those you encounter. People usually feel relaxed and comfortable in your presence.You love to build self-esteem and make others feel good about who they are. You can easily motivate and inspire people to make changes in their lives and reach their potential.
Hmm. Again.
I've always seen myself as shy. It's extremely difficult for me to talk to people or be in a situation where I don't know many people. I get nervous if I think someone can see me drive. I often am stumped for things to say and initial conversations usually die awkwardly. After socializing with lots of people I feel drained.
That being said my desire for human contact trumps my social anxiety. I would rather feel uncomfortable and weird if it means ending the loneliness. Now that I've run into more evidence that people see me as extroverted I wonder if it means what I thought it did. Perhaps extroverts aren't people who easily flow through relationships and conversations as second nature. Perhaps they all work hard at it, plan it, practice it, until they achieve the look of someone who doesn't get nervous surround by strangers. Perhaps it's like being brave. Where you act in spite of your fear rather than because you have no fear. I am shy, but I put myself out there anyway, in spite of it. I might be brave. Or I might be extroverted.
It's times like these that I wish I could listen in to the thoughts of someone else. I'd love to know if all those people who seems so outgoing to me have the same fears, worries, and doubts I do. I want to know if they had to spend years practicing how to keep a conversation flowing or how to introduce themselves in an easy and welcoming way. At the same time as I listen to others thoughts I really want to see myself through their eyes. Do they see all the hurt, fear, and turmoil I feel? Am I as transparent as I feel I am? Or do they think I'm like them. Outgoing, friendly, the person I really try to be.
Ever asked yourself if maybe you might actually have the thing you really want? What happens when the answer is yes?
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Moment
You know those commercials where a woman is dressed in really comfortable clothes, like pajamas, but still looks impossibly pretty settles down into some really comfortable couch or chair that is not covered in cat hair? The one where she has something like a cup of coffee, or a thing of yogurt, or a chocolate bar? The commercial where she sits down and as soon as she indulges in whatever she has she experiences a moment of utter bliss and contentment that you feel you need to emulate because honestly you really, truly, need to have a moment of utter contentment and bliss? You know that commercial? You know that moment?
I had one last night. I was wearing Hello Kitty pajamas covered in baby food. My hair was frizzy and messy. I was covered in Pumpkin Patch dirt. My couch was covered in cat hair despite being just vacuumed. My husband was making some strange noise with his cocoa. But I had that moment anyway.
It was Chocolate Mint Truffle Hot Cocoa. Ahhh.
I had one last night. I was wearing Hello Kitty pajamas covered in baby food. My hair was frizzy and messy. I was covered in Pumpkin Patch dirt. My couch was covered in cat hair despite being just vacuumed. My husband was making some strange noise with his cocoa. But I had that moment anyway.
It was Chocolate Mint Truffle Hot Cocoa. Ahhh.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Yarn Along 2
I haven't finished my red sweater from the last yarn along yet. I still have some construction sewing to do on it. However, since my Mother was here last week I got excited to start a new project before the other was done. (I spent about an hour showing her my stash and patterns.)
So this new project will someday be a sweater from a vintage (1930's) pattern. I found the yarn at Savers for cheap and am rather excited about the project. The yarn is wool and a darn bit scratchier than I originally thought. So much so that by the time I finished casting on I was ready to stop because I disliked it so much. Now after two rows I am falling slightly more in love with it again. I intend for the ribbing to be black (the color in the picture) and blue for the body. I like the blue better than the black - it's far more vibrant - but am unsure I have enough blue to finish it all.
For my book I'm reading Contested Will by James Shapiro. It does say "Who Wrote Shakespeare?" on the cover but the book is more about why people want to believe someone else wrote Shakespeare and when they started. That is a question I often ask myself too. I believe that William Shakespeare wrote the Shakespeare plays. I believe it not just because I have only see credible evidence of this but because believing that a man from a small town who had no formal training, travel, or access to the uppercrust of society can still write something amazing is believing that anyone can do anything. It's a belief in the human spirit. The spirit and amazement of genius. It also speaks to my inherent Americanness - it doesn't matter who your father was or what circumstances you were born only what you do with it. That's a simplified view of it I know. Even in the most democratic of places it still matters how you grew up, but I still believe in the ideal that people can rise above and that upstart crows can be read for millennia.
I only just started this book and I like it. My Dad read it cover to cover when he came to visit and he enjoyed it too. I usually take his advice on books because he is a writer as well. Here is his book review on his blog he writes for The Maui News.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Nightlife after Baby
When Emily was about a two months old our neighborhood held a movie-in-the-park night for families. I invited a bunch of other moms and their children to come out and see it with me. I suggested we meet at 6:30pm on a Friday night so we could see the movie that started at 7:00pm.
It didn't go over well. I was scolded for even suggesting something that started so late. Apparently bedtime was 6:00pm for all of these children and I was a horrible mother for suggesting the outing and an even more terrible parent for taking my child out to something so late in the day.
I can understand that other children may need an extremely early bedtime. Some of them need to go to school early, some need extra sleep because they no longer nap, so just are on the early bedtime schedule and it works for them. At the time Emily was two months old and it didn't matter where I took her she was going to do one of two things: nurse or sleep. I figured I might as well watch a movie while she did. Later, after the scolding, these mothers told me that I wouldn't be able to do anything after 6:00pm once Emily turned 3 months old. I would HAVE to set the sleep routine early. I would not be able to go out at 10:00am when it was time for her nap. I would not be able to go out in the afternoon when it was time for another nap. I would not be able to leave the house - ever.
At 11 months with a little mommy-confidence under my belt I can now say a big fat whatever.
On Friday night Historic Hawaii Theater showed the Oahu Premiere of Get A Job. The show was filmed in Maui and starred a lot of people who I did theater with there. I was not going to miss the premiere. Unfortunately, my husband had an event of his own that he could not miss. So Emily was my date for the night.
The show started at 7:30pm. We were treated to a quick concert by the Barefoot Natives who were also the stars of the show. Emily danced to each song and even sang along with Wille K. (Thankfully we were in the back so no one heard her harmonizing.) After the music and intermission they screened the full-length movie. Emily loved it. So did I. It was funny and sweet and it was fun to watch.
Later, we sat for the question and answer segment. Then we got our poster signed by some of the movie stars. Eric Gilliom even signed a CD for Emily. What baby gets to go to a movie premiere at 11 months and hob-nob with the stars? My baby that's who. And all because I refuse to stay home.
Emily was fine the whole way through. We sat in the back in case I needed to leave the theater (I am aware other people are trying to enjoy their night too) but we didn't have to. Emily was enamored with the live music and the quirky comedy. Half-way through she got tired and so she curled up on my lap and drifted off. She woke up for the signing and we got home a little after midnight. I had a wonderful time, Emily had a great time, and we didn't have any tantrums or problems.
I just refuse, refuse, to miss these special events. I love my daughter. I want her to be happy, comfortable, and healthy. I am more than willing to do whatever it takes to get there. That being said I also want to be a health, comfortable, happy mama. I can't imagine sequestering myself just because I have a baby. I also can't imagine Emily missing out on all the wonderful parts of life just because she is a baby. She'll let me know when she's tired, hungry, needs a break, or wants to go home. When she does we'll do something about it. Till then she can come live life with me.
It didn't go over well. I was scolded for even suggesting something that started so late. Apparently bedtime was 6:00pm for all of these children and I was a horrible mother for suggesting the outing and an even more terrible parent for taking my child out to something so late in the day.
I can understand that other children may need an extremely early bedtime. Some of them need to go to school early, some need extra sleep because they no longer nap, so just are on the early bedtime schedule and it works for them. At the time Emily was two months old and it didn't matter where I took her she was going to do one of two things: nurse or sleep. I figured I might as well watch a movie while she did. Later, after the scolding, these mothers told me that I wouldn't be able to do anything after 6:00pm once Emily turned 3 months old. I would HAVE to set the sleep routine early. I would not be able to go out at 10:00am when it was time for her nap. I would not be able to go out in the afternoon when it was time for another nap. I would not be able to leave the house - ever.
At 11 months with a little mommy-confidence under my belt I can now say a big fat whatever.
On Friday night Historic Hawaii Theater showed the Oahu Premiere of Get A Job. The show was filmed in Maui and starred a lot of people who I did theater with there. I was not going to miss the premiere. Unfortunately, my husband had an event of his own that he could not miss. So Emily was my date for the night.
The show started at 7:30pm. We were treated to a quick concert by the Barefoot Natives who were also the stars of the show. Emily danced to each song and even sang along with Wille K. (Thankfully we were in the back so no one heard her harmonizing.) After the music and intermission they screened the full-length movie. Emily loved it. So did I. It was funny and sweet and it was fun to watch.
Later, we sat for the question and answer segment. Then we got our poster signed by some of the movie stars. Eric Gilliom even signed a CD for Emily. What baby gets to go to a movie premiere at 11 months and hob-nob with the stars? My baby that's who. And all because I refuse to stay home.
Emily was fine the whole way through. We sat in the back in case I needed to leave the theater (I am aware other people are trying to enjoy their night too) but we didn't have to. Emily was enamored with the live music and the quirky comedy. Half-way through she got tired and so she curled up on my lap and drifted off. She woke up for the signing and we got home a little after midnight. I had a wonderful time, Emily had a great time, and we didn't have any tantrums or problems.
I just refuse, refuse, to miss these special events. I love my daughter. I want her to be happy, comfortable, and healthy. I am more than willing to do whatever it takes to get there. That being said I also want to be a health, comfortable, happy mama. I can't imagine sequestering myself just because I have a baby. I also can't imagine Emily missing out on all the wonderful parts of life just because she is a baby. She'll let me know when she's tired, hungry, needs a break, or wants to go home. When she does we'll do something about it. Till then she can come live life with me.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Just wait
Emily started walking on her own the other day. It was very exciting. We were both in awe of her little toddles from Mama to Daddy and back. Emily is awesome.
Because it was amazing we shared the happy news on Facebook (what else) with a post and a video. There was much cooing by friends and family (and more cooing by her parents), but I also got a lot of sympathy both in comments and in private email. So many people felt so sorry for me, the mother, that you'd have thought I just said Emily had gotten cancer and not achieved a major milestone.
And I get this a lot. Every time Emily starts something new I am certain to get at least one (if not a hundred) of the following responses:
"I feel so sorry for you."
"Just wait. It gets so much worse."
I understand some of this. Parenting is hard. Really hard. With each new achievement comes a brand new challenge. There are lessons to teach everyday. Every time a baby learns a new skill you have to make sure that skill doesn't get them killed. I get it. It is hard. But it's not horrible. A good portion of parenting sucks. But the rewards for sucking is supposed to be witnessing those magical moments - like your child's very first steps. However, instead of my parent friends (people I know only because we are all parenting at the same time) cheering each other on and focusing on the lovely bits of parenting they spend all their time bitching about it. In fact, I am convinced that the object of parent-to-parent conversation is to out complain the other person. You must complain and your complaint must be worse than the other parents or else you lose.
I'm not talking about venting. Venting is good. Venting to people who understand that all that frustration is not actually anger at your kid, but rather heavily disguised love is better. A parent who doesn't vent to other parents once in awhile is likely to vent to the kid - and that is plain unhealthy. What I am talking about is this sadistic need to make sure another parent know that their life is going to suck, hard, and they relish the pain.
Maybe it's just schadenfreude, or maybe it's a desire for others to suffer as they have, either way it annoys the heck out of me. I hate when I mention something, good or bad, about my child and I'm told to "Just wait" as if I don't understand the terror of parenting. As if I'm blind to the fact that I'm helping to raise another human being. Just wait - life is terrible and you don't even know it.
But beyond the "just wait" is the "sorry for you." As in my example my child learned to walk. She took her first steps that will eventually lead to her being able to run, play, climb, and dance. It's an important and really essential skill. And everyone is so sorry it happened. But turn that on its head. If you are sorry she learned to walk what would you be happy for? If she didn't learn to walk? If she never learned to get around on her own without help? Would it be better for me, her mother, to have a child who couldn't grow into a beautiful, healthy individual? And if something horrible did in fact happen? What would you say then? Hey - at least now you don't have to spend all day chasing her through the park.
I hope that as I meet more parents with children younger than mine I can refrain from raining on their parade. I hope that just as I never tell a pregnant woman that pregnancy gets worse I will also never tell a parent to just wait till it gets worse. It'll get different, certainly. Challenging, quite possibly. But not worse.
Because it was amazing we shared the happy news on Facebook (what else) with a post and a video. There was much cooing by friends and family (and more cooing by her parents), but I also got a lot of sympathy both in comments and in private email. So many people felt so sorry for me, the mother, that you'd have thought I just said Emily had gotten cancer and not achieved a major milestone.
And I get this a lot. Every time Emily starts something new I am certain to get at least one (if not a hundred) of the following responses:
"I feel so sorry for you."
"Just wait. It gets so much worse."
I understand some of this. Parenting is hard. Really hard. With each new achievement comes a brand new challenge. There are lessons to teach everyday. Every time a baby learns a new skill you have to make sure that skill doesn't get them killed. I get it. It is hard. But it's not horrible. A good portion of parenting sucks. But the rewards for sucking is supposed to be witnessing those magical moments - like your child's very first steps. However, instead of my parent friends (people I know only because we are all parenting at the same time) cheering each other on and focusing on the lovely bits of parenting they spend all their time bitching about it. In fact, I am convinced that the object of parent-to-parent conversation is to out complain the other person. You must complain and your complaint must be worse than the other parents or else you lose.
I'm not talking about venting. Venting is good. Venting to people who understand that all that frustration is not actually anger at your kid, but rather heavily disguised love is better. A parent who doesn't vent to other parents once in awhile is likely to vent to the kid - and that is plain unhealthy. What I am talking about is this sadistic need to make sure another parent know that their life is going to suck, hard, and they relish the pain.
Maybe it's just schadenfreude, or maybe it's a desire for others to suffer as they have, either way it annoys the heck out of me. I hate when I mention something, good or bad, about my child and I'm told to "Just wait" as if I don't understand the terror of parenting. As if I'm blind to the fact that I'm helping to raise another human being. Just wait - life is terrible and you don't even know it.
But beyond the "just wait" is the "sorry for you." As in my example my child learned to walk. She took her first steps that will eventually lead to her being able to run, play, climb, and dance. It's an important and really essential skill. And everyone is so sorry it happened. But turn that on its head. If you are sorry she learned to walk what would you be happy for? If she didn't learn to walk? If she never learned to get around on her own without help? Would it be better for me, her mother, to have a child who couldn't grow into a beautiful, healthy individual? And if something horrible did in fact happen? What would you say then? Hey - at least now you don't have to spend all day chasing her through the park.
I hope that as I meet more parents with children younger than mine I can refrain from raining on their parade. I hope that just as I never tell a pregnant woman that pregnancy gets worse I will also never tell a parent to just wait till it gets worse. It'll get different, certainly. Challenging, quite possibly. But not worse.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Move it
A quick thought:
Can the Birther issue really be called a Birther Movement (as I heard on the news today)? Movements tens to want to move things, change things, make things happen. Birthers seem like they want to just generally whine. They don't even seem like they want to move President Obama - which would be the whole point of challenging citizenship.
Really, what would a Birther Movement stand for? Kitchen table gossip? Sour grape eating? General whining without having legitimate reasons? - All the best parts of American society I guess.
Can we Fox News Memo this? From now on it's not a movement, or an issue, or a problem. Instead we'll use Birther Debacle. Or silliness. Perhaps the Birther Bore. Because this is boring.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Rebecca Black gives me hope
When I was a pre-teen/teenager I remember the music that was popular was rather depressing. Eminem was pretty sad, most of the rap and hip hop was about people dying. NSynch and Backstreet Boys were happy, but we weren't allowed to actually like them. It's hard not to think back to the music of my "youth" and remember countless message songs about people dying of AIDS, drugs, gangbangs or just because they were the wrong race. When it wasn't in the music it was in the news - I was a junior when the Columbine Shootings took place.
But today the top song on iTunes is Rebecca Black's "Friday." It's awful. The lyrics are terrible. But they make me happy. Usually when people wake up in the morning they sing about the impossibility of getting out of bed and how they'd rather be dead. Rebecca talks about getting a bowl of cereal. Before the big decision of the day would be whether to get high or have an abortion. Rebecca has to decide which seat will she take in the car. It's such a big decision she sings about it twice. From the video it looks like she wants to sit in the back seat instead of kicking it in the front seat. That's nice - she's 13 - I don't think she can drive.
Finally, her weekends aren't about banging, drugs, getting drunk. They are about "fun." Lots and lots of fun. You know what I mean. She's so sure you know what I mean she doesn't say what she means. She just sings that you know what I mean. I'm convinced she means a sparkly t-shirt and some KoolAid. (The kind without cyanide.)
"Friday" makes me happy. If the worst we really have to worry about is which seat to sit in and "partyin' partyin'" then we must be doing something right.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Year of the Military Family
I've noticed that most of my blog (and most of my IRL conversations) are about either my daughter or my breasts. These seem to be the two most pressing issues in my life right now. Ironically, in my daughters life the two most pressing issues are also her and my breasts.
It feels an awful lot like I haven't had a thought outside of my own home in a long time. The other day I told my husband I was going to cancel the subscription to the Sunday NYT because honestly I didn't need to bother with all that national news. Who cares.
Except I do care. One thing I really care about is the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" issue. Just this past week Marine commandant General James Amos said it was the wrong time to repeal this policy. His reason: unit cohesion and combat effectiveness would be diminished because "There is nothing more intimate than young men and young women — and when you talk of infantry, we’re talking our young men — laying out, sleeping alongside of one another and sharing death, fear, and loss of brothers."
Somewhere in that quote there seems to be the idea that a gay marine lying next to his battle buddy would somehow put the moves on. That in the midst of the stress, fear, and exhaustion of battle sex would be the only thing going on in a homosexual marines mind. Or a heterosexual marines mind. Seriously?
The fact is there are already gay soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines. They don't have sex in the field, or on the ship, or at work. They do the same thing heterosexual military members do. The only thing they don't do that heterosexual military members do is go home at the end of a long day and enjoy the company of their loved ones.
Because they can't have loved ones.
When it comes to morale, unit cohesion, and combat effectiveness family plays a big part. Knowing that there is someone out there who loves you, and who you love, plays a big part in being able to face the worst of the world. And that is what a lot of our military personnel have to do. Coming home to a wife or husband is a good thing. Having your significant other supporting you is a good thing. Being able to have a family while still serving your country is a good thing. Even the military admits this. 2010 is the year of the military family after all.
Unless you're gay. Don't Ask, Don't Tell means gay service members can't have a significant other. They can't fall in love with someone. They can't date. They can't raise a family with a partner. They don't have that one person to love and support them through thick and thin. When they move to a far away land they can't take their families with them. They don't get families. They have to do the same job, with the same stress, alone. Their support structure outside of the military is severely crippled. And since they have to worry about someone "finding them out" their support structure inside the military is limited too.
Honestly, it isn't about sex. It's about families. If this is really the year of the military family then Don't Ask, Don't Tell needs to go.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)