Don't hate me, but...
New blog here.
I've actually been blogging at the new blog for a while and was planning to just not say anything to anyone, but P outed me to Mare and Diane, so...
There you go. :-)
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
"Poor" me
I miss being able to afford vacations.
Here is a partial list of places I'd rather be right now:
- Paris
- St. Martin
- Canada
- Disney World
- somewhere new-to-me out West (California, Grand Canyon, Hawaii, wherever)
- somewhere new-to-me in the Caribbean (Barbados, Curacao, Bermuda, St. Lucia, wherever)
- Tahiti (a girl can dream, right?)
- spending the weekend at a fancy-ass hotel in NYC
- Amsterdam
- somewhere new-to-me in Europe (Italy, the UK, Ireland, Denmark, wherever)
Basically, I'd like to not be here. I haven't had a REAL vacation since 2008 and it sucks.
And yes, my reaction to finding out that I have to come up with $1000 in the next 11 days to pay my malpractice insurance premium is to start wishing desperately that I were ANYWHERE else.
Here is a partial list of places I'd rather be right now:
- Paris
- St. Martin
- Canada
- Disney World
- somewhere new-to-me out West (California, Grand Canyon, Hawaii, wherever)
- somewhere new-to-me in the Caribbean (Barbados, Curacao, Bermuda, St. Lucia, wherever)
- Tahiti (a girl can dream, right?)
- spending the weekend at a fancy-ass hotel in NYC
- Amsterdam
- somewhere new-to-me in Europe (Italy, the UK, Ireland, Denmark, wherever)
Basically, I'd like to not be here. I haven't had a REAL vacation since 2008 and it sucks.
And yes, my reaction to finding out that I have to come up with $1000 in the next 11 days to pay my malpractice insurance premium is to start wishing desperately that I were ANYWHERE else.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The personal is political
Lightning crashes, a new mother cries
Her placenta falls to the floor
The angel opens her eyes, the confusion sets in
Before the doctor can even close the door
Lightning crashes, an old mother dies
Her intentions fall to the floor
The angel closes her eyes, the confusion that was hers
Belongs now, to the baby down the hall
That was the song that came on the radio as I was driving to pick up Nora from school today. It was dark outside - so rainy and dreary that it looked like night at 3:45 PM - and cold, cold, cold. And with the weather, and with that song on the radio that was just a little too appropriate for the day's events, I burst into tears in the car, trying desperately to sob silently so that Isaac wouldn't hear from the backseat.
At the risk of co-opting pain that isn't mine, let me tell you why.
There's a woman from my online mom's group who lives around here, in another suburb of the same big city, about 15 minutes from me. She attends one of the Unitarian churches that we were looking at attending a while back, so she and I chatted about that several times in personal messages outside of the main group forum. We also emailed a bit while coordinating a care package for another woman whose daughter was very sick.
I can't claim to know this woman well, but I know her well enough. I like her. She's a nice person, we live near each other, and we have some stuff in common. No big deal.
This woman has been trying to get pregnant for years. Years. She and her husband finally got off the infertility roller coaster and began making plans to adopt, and while in the process of preparing for that adoption, she got pregnant. And she was, of course, thrilled.
A few weeks ago, she went in for her routine 20-week ultrasound. She and her husband were excited to see their so-long-awaited baby and find out the sex.
And then she got some devastating news. The baby had a severe deformity, which could be the result of a chromosomal abnormality. She immediately went for an amniocentesis and scheduled a follow-up visit for a more detailed ultrasound to determine the severity of the deformity. A few days later, she and her husband received the amnio results, which were clear - no identifiable chromosomal defects. They breathed a huge sigh of relief and waited nervously for the follow-up testing to figure out what kind of situation they'd be facing with their baby, what surgeries he might need (they had learned they were expecting a boy), etc.
Well, when they went in for the follow-up, the news was grim. Despite the absence of any chromosomal abnormalities, the baby had very severe defects, more than were discovered on the original ultrasound. Their desperately longed for, desperately wanted baby would not live for long after birth, if he survived to term at all. Not wanting to live through the nightmare of another 17-19 weeks of pregnancy with no chance of a good outcome, she and her husband made the painful decision to end the pregnancy.
They decided, with their doctors, to induce labor rather than to have a traditional abortion. She wanted a little more time, a few more days to come to grips with what was happening, to grieve, to say goodbye to her little boy.
But she couldn't have that time, because our state severely limits abortions after 23 weeks of pregnancy, allowing them only when the mother's life or the mother's health is directly threatened. Because in this case, it was the baby who was in danger, no abortion would be permitted after 23 weeks.
So, with a heavy heart and a feeling she described as "horribly hurried and rushed," she went to the hospital today to be induced. On this cold, dark, awful day, this woman and her husband had to say hello and goodbye to the baby they fought so long and so hard to have. And they had to do it before they were ready. The hardest, most awful thing that could happen to them had to be rushed along because our state thinks that this - this awful, heart-wrenching, steaming pile of shit that no one should ever have to face - is their business.
Like I already said, this is not my pain. This isn't my life to politicize. But I can tell you that this woman - this mother - is suffering a world of hurt right now. The anti-choice lobby in this country has done a very effective job of painting a picture of late-term abortion that demonizes the lazy, birth control avoiding, slutty harlot waiting until her baby is viable to decide to kill it. But that's not what's going on.
The vast, vast, VAST majority of abortions in the United States happen during the first trimester. Most of the rest happen very early in the second trimester, well before viability. The women who are having abortions in the late second trimester and in the third trimester? They're not doing it for convenience. They're just not. They're doing it, almost entirely, in situations like these. They're doing it, almost exclusively, in situations where they face an impossible choice, where they face a choice between super-shit, extra-shit, and shit-supreme. They're doing it when they could die, when they could suffer serious health complications, or when their babies could die or face horrible, awful, short lives full of suffering and pain. They're not doing it, statistically, because their babies aren't wanted. In nearly all late-term abortions, the babies were very much wanted. Frankly, if they weren't wanted, they would have been aborted earlier.
And so I cried. I cried in the car for this woman, for her husband, for their son. I cried for all of the other mothers and fathers facing these horrible choices. I cried because I remember the pain and the exhilaration of labor all too well, because I could picture this woman's face as she rides out contractions and pushes her adored, desperately-wanted, but very sick baby boy into the world, for the first and last day she will ever spend with him.
I cried for this country, for punishing women who are trying to do what is most compassionate, loving, and motherly for their babies, in the best way they can, when nothing they do will ever be enough to save them.
Fuck every last person in this country that believes they have the right to tell another person what the "right" thing to do is in these situations. Fuck every last person that believes they ever have the right to tell any woman what to do with her body and her life.
And fuck my state especially, tonight, for denying this lovely, wonderful, devastated woman and her husband the extra few days to feel their son kick, to feel him swim inside of her, to figure out how in the world to say goodbye to the baby they've spent years waiting for. Fuck my state really fucking hard.
Nobody deserves that kind of infantilizing, especially when facing something like this.
Lightning crashes, a new mother cries
This moment she's been waiting for
The angels open her eyes, pale blue colored iris
Presents the sun and puts the glory out to hide, hide
Oh, now feel it comin' back again
Like a rollin' thunder chasing the wind
Forces pullin' from the center of the earth again
I can feel it
Her placenta falls to the floor
The angel opens her eyes, the confusion sets in
Before the doctor can even close the door
Lightning crashes, an old mother dies
Her intentions fall to the floor
The angel closes her eyes, the confusion that was hers
Belongs now, to the baby down the hall
That was the song that came on the radio as I was driving to pick up Nora from school today. It was dark outside - so rainy and dreary that it looked like night at 3:45 PM - and cold, cold, cold. And with the weather, and with that song on the radio that was just a little too appropriate for the day's events, I burst into tears in the car, trying desperately to sob silently so that Isaac wouldn't hear from the backseat.
At the risk of co-opting pain that isn't mine, let me tell you why.
There's a woman from my online mom's group who lives around here, in another suburb of the same big city, about 15 minutes from me. She attends one of the Unitarian churches that we were looking at attending a while back, so she and I chatted about that several times in personal messages outside of the main group forum. We also emailed a bit while coordinating a care package for another woman whose daughter was very sick.
I can't claim to know this woman well, but I know her well enough. I like her. She's a nice person, we live near each other, and we have some stuff in common. No big deal.
This woman has been trying to get pregnant for years. Years. She and her husband finally got off the infertility roller coaster and began making plans to adopt, and while in the process of preparing for that adoption, she got pregnant. And she was, of course, thrilled.
A few weeks ago, she went in for her routine 20-week ultrasound. She and her husband were excited to see their so-long-awaited baby and find out the sex.
And then she got some devastating news. The baby had a severe deformity, which could be the result of a chromosomal abnormality. She immediately went for an amniocentesis and scheduled a follow-up visit for a more detailed ultrasound to determine the severity of the deformity. A few days later, she and her husband received the amnio results, which were clear - no identifiable chromosomal defects. They breathed a huge sigh of relief and waited nervously for the follow-up testing to figure out what kind of situation they'd be facing with their baby, what surgeries he might need (they had learned they were expecting a boy), etc.
Well, when they went in for the follow-up, the news was grim. Despite the absence of any chromosomal abnormalities, the baby had very severe defects, more than were discovered on the original ultrasound. Their desperately longed for, desperately wanted baby would not live for long after birth, if he survived to term at all. Not wanting to live through the nightmare of another 17-19 weeks of pregnancy with no chance of a good outcome, she and her husband made the painful decision to end the pregnancy.
They decided, with their doctors, to induce labor rather than to have a traditional abortion. She wanted a little more time, a few more days to come to grips with what was happening, to grieve, to say goodbye to her little boy.
But she couldn't have that time, because our state severely limits abortions after 23 weeks of pregnancy, allowing them only when the mother's life or the mother's health is directly threatened. Because in this case, it was the baby who was in danger, no abortion would be permitted after 23 weeks.
So, with a heavy heart and a feeling she described as "horribly hurried and rushed," she went to the hospital today to be induced. On this cold, dark, awful day, this woman and her husband had to say hello and goodbye to the baby they fought so long and so hard to have. And they had to do it before they were ready. The hardest, most awful thing that could happen to them had to be rushed along because our state thinks that this - this awful, heart-wrenching, steaming pile of shit that no one should ever have to face - is their business.
Like I already said, this is not my pain. This isn't my life to politicize. But I can tell you that this woman - this mother - is suffering a world of hurt right now. The anti-choice lobby in this country has done a very effective job of painting a picture of late-term abortion that demonizes the lazy, birth control avoiding, slutty harlot waiting until her baby is viable to decide to kill it. But that's not what's going on.
The vast, vast, VAST majority of abortions in the United States happen during the first trimester. Most of the rest happen very early in the second trimester, well before viability. The women who are having abortions in the late second trimester and in the third trimester? They're not doing it for convenience. They're just not. They're doing it, almost entirely, in situations like these. They're doing it, almost exclusively, in situations where they face an impossible choice, where they face a choice between super-shit, extra-shit, and shit-supreme. They're doing it when they could die, when they could suffer serious health complications, or when their babies could die or face horrible, awful, short lives full of suffering and pain. They're not doing it, statistically, because their babies aren't wanted. In nearly all late-term abortions, the babies were very much wanted. Frankly, if they weren't wanted, they would have been aborted earlier.
And so I cried. I cried in the car for this woman, for her husband, for their son. I cried for all of the other mothers and fathers facing these horrible choices. I cried because I remember the pain and the exhilaration of labor all too well, because I could picture this woman's face as she rides out contractions and pushes her adored, desperately-wanted, but very sick baby boy into the world, for the first and last day she will ever spend with him.
I cried for this country, for punishing women who are trying to do what is most compassionate, loving, and motherly for their babies, in the best way they can, when nothing they do will ever be enough to save them.
Fuck every last person in this country that believes they have the right to tell another person what the "right" thing to do is in these situations. Fuck every last person that believes they ever have the right to tell any woman what to do with her body and her life.
And fuck my state especially, tonight, for denying this lovely, wonderful, devastated woman and her husband the extra few days to feel their son kick, to feel him swim inside of her, to figure out how in the world to say goodbye to the baby they've spent years waiting for. Fuck my state really fucking hard.
Nobody deserves that kind of infantilizing, especially when facing something like this.
Lightning crashes, a new mother cries
This moment she's been waiting for
The angels open her eyes, pale blue colored iris
Presents the sun and puts the glory out to hide, hide
Oh, now feel it comin' back again
Like a rollin' thunder chasing the wind
Forces pullin' from the center of the earth again
I can feel it
Monday, March 7, 2011
Proud
P just started a respiratory therapy program and he is totally rocking it. He's working his butt off and has the grades to show for it. I'm super proud of him.
And I just wanted you all to know how much he rocks. :-)
And I just wanted you all to know how much he rocks. :-)
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Food issues
We have major food issues in our house.
For starters, I'm a really picky eater (and yes, I can admit it). I've gotten better over the course of my relationship with P as he's encouraged me to try new things, but I still have serious texture issues with some foods and don't like strong or unfamiliar flavors.
Nora has inherited my pickiness and then some. For dinner, she will pretty much only reliably eat pasta, pizza, broccoli, and rolls/bread. She will occasionally surprise us and eat something else (usually plain vegetables), but not often. She would eat PBJ sandwiches or macaroni and cheese for lunch every single day if we would let her. Breakfast is nearly always cereal or waffles. We put the kibosh on super-sugary cereals a while ago, so she now eats mostly Special K Red Berries, Kix, Multigrain Cheerios, and the like. For snacks, she prefers yogurt, but will usually eat fruit (especially bananas or strawberries) if we force the issue.
The dinnertime battles were getting so bad that we instituted a rule that dinner is dinner and no alternate foods will be provided. If she doesn't want to eat her dinner, she can eat again at breakfast. You'd think that this would encourage her to eat her dinner, but... you'd be wrong. She's the stubborn child of two stubborn parents and she's not generally very hungry at the end of the day, so there are many, many nights where she picks at her food and holds out for breakfast. And breakfast is usually not her healthiest meal, as I pointed out above, so... yeah.
Rounding out the food issues are the fact that dinner needs to be made quickly most nights (I get home with Nora between 5 and 5:30 and dinner must happen by 6:00 or Isaac gets cranky and screamy), the fact that Isaac tends to throw food on the floor when he's done with it, and the fact that P and I are both trying to lose weight.
Mealtimes in our house have become boring (due to my own pickiness, trying to accommodate Nora's preferences so that she'll at least eat something, trying to keep calories within check, trying to make things that can be made quickly, and trying to figure out what Isaac is most likely to eat without dumping on the floor). None of us are eating an ideally balanced diet. Too much quick-cooking processed food has found its way in. Too few fruits and vegetables are being consumed. I find our food pretty unsatisfying and tend to periodically go crazy on sweets or savory foods, derailing my diet. P has the same problem, albeit to a lesser extent.
In sum, our family food situation isn't working and needs to change.
I've recently been reading a lot about nutrition and I think we need to move to a more fresh food-based, less processed diet. Duh, right? I mean, that's the ideal situation health-wise... but how many people really manage it? Have you ever read the ingredients list even on a loaf of bread or jar of spaghetti sauce? Not-food is everywhere and very hard to avoid unless you have vast reserves of time, energy, and desire to cook. That isn't me. It isn't P either, I don't think (although he's probably closer than I am). But still... I think it must be done.
So... baby steps. My tentative plan: (1) working on eating mostly whole foods at breakfast; (2) once that habit is set, working on eating mostly whole foods at lunch; (3) once that habit is set, working on eating mostly whole foods at dinner; (4) once that habit is set, working on eating mostly whole foods for snacks; (5) breaking the diet coke addiction and switching to mainly water (or tea when I need caffeine). Why start with breakfast? Because Nora eats a lot of it after picking at her dinner and it seems like the best place to start trying to improve nutrition. Also, it's easiest - eggs, oatmeal, etc. are all easy, real-food breakfast options. I want to start by setting myself up for success.
Also, my plan is to make progress on improving our family diet, but not to be perfect. Perfection is unrealistic because (1) life happens; (2) old habits are hard to break; (3) I have no desire to be an insufferable asshole or to raise insufferable assholes who can't handle eating at restaurants or other people's houses without asking a million annoying questions about what's in the food; and (4) I like cake and cookies (and ice cream and candy and... umm... anything sweet, really) and I have no desire to cut them out of my life completely.
This is going to be a complete pain in the ass, but it must be done. I'll try to provide periodic updates here so you all can cheer us on / laugh at us as we stumble through this / be bored to tears by my latest hair-brained scheme.
For starters, I'm a really picky eater (and yes, I can admit it). I've gotten better over the course of my relationship with P as he's encouraged me to try new things, but I still have serious texture issues with some foods and don't like strong or unfamiliar flavors.
Nora has inherited my pickiness and then some. For dinner, she will pretty much only reliably eat pasta, pizza, broccoli, and rolls/bread. She will occasionally surprise us and eat something else (usually plain vegetables), but not often. She would eat PBJ sandwiches or macaroni and cheese for lunch every single day if we would let her. Breakfast is nearly always cereal or waffles. We put the kibosh on super-sugary cereals a while ago, so she now eats mostly Special K Red Berries, Kix, Multigrain Cheerios, and the like. For snacks, she prefers yogurt, but will usually eat fruit (especially bananas or strawberries) if we force the issue.
The dinnertime battles were getting so bad that we instituted a rule that dinner is dinner and no alternate foods will be provided. If she doesn't want to eat her dinner, she can eat again at breakfast. You'd think that this would encourage her to eat her dinner, but... you'd be wrong. She's the stubborn child of two stubborn parents and she's not generally very hungry at the end of the day, so there are many, many nights where she picks at her food and holds out for breakfast. And breakfast is usually not her healthiest meal, as I pointed out above, so... yeah.
Rounding out the food issues are the fact that dinner needs to be made quickly most nights (I get home with Nora between 5 and 5:30 and dinner must happen by 6:00 or Isaac gets cranky and screamy), the fact that Isaac tends to throw food on the floor when he's done with it, and the fact that P and I are both trying to lose weight.
Mealtimes in our house have become boring (due to my own pickiness, trying to accommodate Nora's preferences so that she'll at least eat something, trying to keep calories within check, trying to make things that can be made quickly, and trying to figure out what Isaac is most likely to eat without dumping on the floor). None of us are eating an ideally balanced diet. Too much quick-cooking processed food has found its way in. Too few fruits and vegetables are being consumed. I find our food pretty unsatisfying and tend to periodically go crazy on sweets or savory foods, derailing my diet. P has the same problem, albeit to a lesser extent.
In sum, our family food situation isn't working and needs to change.
I've recently been reading a lot about nutrition and I think we need to move to a more fresh food-based, less processed diet. Duh, right? I mean, that's the ideal situation health-wise... but how many people really manage it? Have you ever read the ingredients list even on a loaf of bread or jar of spaghetti sauce? Not-food is everywhere and very hard to avoid unless you have vast reserves of time, energy, and desire to cook. That isn't me. It isn't P either, I don't think (although he's probably closer than I am). But still... I think it must be done.
So... baby steps. My tentative plan: (1) working on eating mostly whole foods at breakfast; (2) once that habit is set, working on eating mostly whole foods at lunch; (3) once that habit is set, working on eating mostly whole foods at dinner; (4) once that habit is set, working on eating mostly whole foods for snacks; (5) breaking the diet coke addiction and switching to mainly water (or tea when I need caffeine). Why start with breakfast? Because Nora eats a lot of it after picking at her dinner and it seems like the best place to start trying to improve nutrition. Also, it's easiest - eggs, oatmeal, etc. are all easy, real-food breakfast options. I want to start by setting myself up for success.
Also, my plan is to make progress on improving our family diet, but not to be perfect. Perfection is unrealistic because (1) life happens; (2) old habits are hard to break; (3) I have no desire to be an insufferable asshole or to raise insufferable assholes who can't handle eating at restaurants or other people's houses without asking a million annoying questions about what's in the food; and (4) I like cake and cookies (and ice cream and candy and... umm... anything sweet, really) and I have no desire to cut them out of my life completely.
This is going to be a complete pain in the ass, but it must be done. I'll try to provide periodic updates here so you all can cheer us on / laugh at us as we stumble through this / be bored to tears by my latest hair-brained scheme.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Recent reads
A mishmesh of thoughts on some books I've read recently:
Abortion & Life: Fabulous, fabulous book about how the pro-choice movement needs to embrace the complexities of the abortion decision in order to maintain legitimacy. One of the best books on reproductive rights that I've ever read (and as someone who wrote her senior thesis in college on abortion, I've read many!).
Hard Time & Nursery Rhymes: A Mother's Tales of Law and Disorder: Memoir written by a criminal defense attorney and mom of three girls. I couldn't put this book down - so much of it rang true to my own experiences and my own life. There was one section about the author's maternity leave where she so eloquently captured the feeling of being crazy in love with your baby but desperate for adult interaction... it really hit home. I highly recommend this.
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto: Terrific book about the pitfalls of the Western diet. I was expecting this to be pretty dull and I put off reading it for a while, but it was actually extremely interesting, well-written, and thought-provoking. I'm planning to use some of the book's suggestions in the near future as I work on revamping my own boring, ho-hum diet, but I'll write more about that in a future post.
Room: You know the woman in Austria who was locked in a basement for years and years, repeatedly raped by her captor, and bore his children? This is a fiction novel that draws heavily from that story. This book is written from the perspective of the 5-year-old son of the victim and the abuser. It is chilling and creepy and fascinating and horrifying all at once. I liked it, but it also made me very, very uncomfortable. I guess that was the point, right?
Origins: How the Nine Months Before Birth Shape the Rest of Our Lives: I just started this, so I can't give a full review of it yet, but so far it's fascinating. It's about the effects of the prenatal period on individuals' future health and lives. And describing it that way makes it sound really boring, but it's not! I'm loving it so far and really wishing that it had been published prior to my pregnancies.
A People's History of the United States: This book is awesome, but very dense. It's the history of the people in the U.S. that the history books gloss over - the lives and experiences of Native Americans in the time of Columbus and early colonization, indentured white servants, slaves, women, etc. I'm learning so much and really enjoying it, but I find that it's a lot to absorb and I can't read very much of it at once. I'm actually breaking my usual rule of not reading multiple books simultaneously to read this in bits and pieces along with the other stuff I'm reading (I figure it's okay because it's kind of like reading a textbook, although not really). I would definitely recommend this to everyone, even though I haven't finished it yet.
Abortion & Life: Fabulous, fabulous book about how the pro-choice movement needs to embrace the complexities of the abortion decision in order to maintain legitimacy. One of the best books on reproductive rights that I've ever read (and as someone who wrote her senior thesis in college on abortion, I've read many!).
Hard Time & Nursery Rhymes: A Mother's Tales of Law and Disorder: Memoir written by a criminal defense attorney and mom of three girls. I couldn't put this book down - so much of it rang true to my own experiences and my own life. There was one section about the author's maternity leave where she so eloquently captured the feeling of being crazy in love with your baby but desperate for adult interaction... it really hit home. I highly recommend this.
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto: Terrific book about the pitfalls of the Western diet. I was expecting this to be pretty dull and I put off reading it for a while, but it was actually extremely interesting, well-written, and thought-provoking. I'm planning to use some of the book's suggestions in the near future as I work on revamping my own boring, ho-hum diet, but I'll write more about that in a future post.
Room: You know the woman in Austria who was locked in a basement for years and years, repeatedly raped by her captor, and bore his children? This is a fiction novel that draws heavily from that story. This book is written from the perspective of the 5-year-old son of the victim and the abuser. It is chilling and creepy and fascinating and horrifying all at once. I liked it, but it also made me very, very uncomfortable. I guess that was the point, right?
Origins: How the Nine Months Before Birth Shape the Rest of Our Lives: I just started this, so I can't give a full review of it yet, but so far it's fascinating. It's about the effects of the prenatal period on individuals' future health and lives. And describing it that way makes it sound really boring, but it's not! I'm loving it so far and really wishing that it had been published prior to my pregnancies.
A People's History of the United States: This book is awesome, but very dense. It's the history of the people in the U.S. that the history books gloss over - the lives and experiences of Native Americans in the time of Columbus and early colonization, indentured white servants, slaves, women, etc. I'm learning so much and really enjoying it, but I find that it's a lot to absorb and I can't read very much of it at once. I'm actually breaking my usual rule of not reading multiple books simultaneously to read this in bits and pieces along with the other stuff I'm reading (I figure it's okay because it's kind of like reading a textbook, although not really). I would definitely recommend this to everyone, even though I haven't finished it yet.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Of assholes and Facebook
Do you ever look up people from your past on the internet?
I do. I do it even when I know it's a bad, bad idea. I do it even when I know that there's a reason that these people are in my past rather than in my present.
P thinks that my tendency to look people up on the internet comes from the same place as my love of reality TV. Voyeurism. Train wrecks. He's probably right.
In any event, earlier today, against all of my better judgment, I looked up my estranged father on Facebook.
He had 945 friends, which I find hard to believe. I don't think it's actually possible for there to be 945 people in this world that don't think he's a giant asshole.
His listed interests include Angry Birds, bass fishing, and Danica Patrick, among others. He neglected to include his long-established hobbies of drinking excessively and abusing women.
He has many family members listed. Through the Family feature, I learned that he has six siblings and half-siblings (that appear on Facebook, anyway) - brother Paul and sisters Marian, Darlene, Cynthia, Joelle, and Denise. A quick Google search informs me that he also has a half-brother, Charles, who is not on Facebook. Some of these names are vaguely familiar to me; some are not. He was never very close to his family, so even when he managed to see me as a child, I rarely saw them or heard him talk about them. The exceptions are Darlene and Denise, with whom my mom was friendly way back when, and Paul. I knew Paul reasonably well because he was my cousin Michelle's father. Michelle and I were very close as kids, but she died in a bike accident shortly after her 11th birthday, and after that I never really spoke to her father again. I doubt he'd remember me if I were to make contact with him today.
Nevertheless, these are my aunts and uncles. Aunts and uncles that I don't know, that I never really had a chance to know because my father is a giant asshole.
Through the Family feature, I was also reminded that Paul has another daughter, Chelsea. I knew that, but because she was so much younger than Michelle, I never really knew her. I think she was a very young infant when Michelle died. I also learned that Joelle has three children - Derek, Chris, and Jodie. Cynthia also has three children - Erin, Sarah, and Courtney. Marian, too, has three children - Lee, Elliott, and Amanda. Denise and Darlene don't use the Family feature on FB, so I don't know if they have any kids. But these are my cousins, and I don't know any of them. I doubt very much that my father has ever mentioned my existence to any of them, even if he is in contact with them (which I'm not sure he is).
Noticeably absent from his Family list? Me, his daughter Emily, and his son Ted. I'll give him a pass on Ted because he's not on FB. But I think it says something about him as a person that he has three kids (that I'm aware of) and isn't in contact with any of them.
Asshole.
Ughhhhh, why did I bother with this? It was SUCH a bad idea.
And considering that I'm the one that cut him out of my life, I don't know why this is bugging me so much.
I do. I do it even when I know it's a bad, bad idea. I do it even when I know that there's a reason that these people are in my past rather than in my present.
P thinks that my tendency to look people up on the internet comes from the same place as my love of reality TV. Voyeurism. Train wrecks. He's probably right.
In any event, earlier today, against all of my better judgment, I looked up my estranged father on Facebook.
He had 945 friends, which I find hard to believe. I don't think it's actually possible for there to be 945 people in this world that don't think he's a giant asshole.
His listed interests include Angry Birds, bass fishing, and Danica Patrick, among others. He neglected to include his long-established hobbies of drinking excessively and abusing women.
He has many family members listed. Through the Family feature, I learned that he has six siblings and half-siblings (that appear on Facebook, anyway) - brother Paul and sisters Marian, Darlene, Cynthia, Joelle, and Denise. A quick Google search informs me that he also has a half-brother, Charles, who is not on Facebook. Some of these names are vaguely familiar to me; some are not. He was never very close to his family, so even when he managed to see me as a child, I rarely saw them or heard him talk about them. The exceptions are Darlene and Denise, with whom my mom was friendly way back when, and Paul. I knew Paul reasonably well because he was my cousin Michelle's father. Michelle and I were very close as kids, but she died in a bike accident shortly after her 11th birthday, and after that I never really spoke to her father again. I doubt he'd remember me if I were to make contact with him today.
Nevertheless, these are my aunts and uncles. Aunts and uncles that I don't know, that I never really had a chance to know because my father is a giant asshole.
Through the Family feature, I was also reminded that Paul has another daughter, Chelsea. I knew that, but because she was so much younger than Michelle, I never really knew her. I think she was a very young infant when Michelle died. I also learned that Joelle has three children - Derek, Chris, and Jodie. Cynthia also has three children - Erin, Sarah, and Courtney. Marian, too, has three children - Lee, Elliott, and Amanda. Denise and Darlene don't use the Family feature on FB, so I don't know if they have any kids. But these are my cousins, and I don't know any of them. I doubt very much that my father has ever mentioned my existence to any of them, even if he is in contact with them (which I'm not sure he is).
Noticeably absent from his Family list? Me, his daughter Emily, and his son Ted. I'll give him a pass on Ted because he's not on FB. But I think it says something about him as a person that he has three kids (that I'm aware of) and isn't in contact with any of them.
Asshole.
Ughhhhh, why did I bother with this? It was SUCH a bad idea.
And considering that I'm the one that cut him out of my life, I don't know why this is bugging me so much.
Friday, January 21, 2011
1_3.5
Made it with a day to spare! (My pre-pregnancy weight was 1_4).
Now on to the unemployment weight... :-/
Now on to the unemployment weight... :-/
Monday, January 17, 2011
Sparkly!
My engagement ring fits again!
Okay, so fits may be too strong of a statement... perhaps "can be forced onto my finger without causing me to lose circulation" is more accurate. But it's on, in any event, and it makes me smile. I've really missed wearing it!
As for my goal of being at my pre-pregnancy weight by Isaac's birthday... I have 1.5 pounds and 6 days to go. Doable, but I'll have to be very disciplined this week.
(And then I'll eat yummy party food and cake and gain .5 pound back, but I can live with that!)
Okay, so fits may be too strong of a statement... perhaps "can be forced onto my finger without causing me to lose circulation" is more accurate. But it's on, in any event, and it makes me smile. I've really missed wearing it!
As for my goal of being at my pre-pregnancy weight by Isaac's birthday... I have 1.5 pounds and 6 days to go. Doable, but I'll have to be very disciplined this week.
(And then I'll eat yummy party food and cake and gain .5 pound back, but I can live with that!)
Sunday, January 2, 2011
2011
Happy New Year, friends. I hope this year brings wonderful, life-affirming moments to each of you. And for those of you that have been going through hard times, I hope this is the year that things get better. (I hope this for myself, too).
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