To say my life has been monopolized by Disney Pixar Cars for the past half a year is no understatement. I think it started when my mom found a Cars 2 busy book a while before Mal's birthday. Though she made a cursory attempt to "hide" it at her house, Mal found it and played with it often before he turned 3.
Since then, we've watched each of the three movies multiple times, though often only a bit at a time, and frequently with some scenes played over and over. Eventually, we purchased the soundtracks, as well, so I'm pretty well-versed in those as I have a child who revels in repetition even more than most.
While my appreciation of the movies has grown with subsequent viewings, and because of my son's fandom (oh, and I do have a definite favorite, but we'll get to that soon enough), I have been so taken in by the music from the soundtracks. Enough so that I wanted to talk about them here, and share one song from each collection with you.
So without further ado, let's chat about Cars 1 ("There's not a 'Cars 1'!" is Mal's refrain, but just saying "let's chat about cars" sounds like I might want to hear about transmissions or something, and I really don't.)
I guess that digression might qualify as "ado." I apologize for that.
The initial Cars movie came out in 2006, and I'd seen it with D, though I don't remember when. Last year, I recommended it to James, and we watched it together. At the end, he expressed surprise that a movie about vehicles could move him in the direction of tears, but you know it's not a Pixar film if you're not crying at least once.
In case you haven't seen it, the basic gist is that Lightning McQueen is a rookie race car who is on the verge of winning the Piston Cup his first season running. He is full of himself, dismissive of others, and might be a bit lonely if he were ever prone to introspection.A series of unfortunate events (probably TM) lands him in a tiny rural town in the middle of nowhere, unable to leave, risking his chance at the final race of the season.
The town is Radiator Springs, located in a purposefully vague spot along the old Route 66 in either New Mexico or Arizona. A formerly bustling little place, I-40 has robbed Radiator Springs of its foot traffic and business, jeopardizing the locals' livelihoods.
As McQueen unwillingly gets to know the residence there in "hillbilly hell" (his words), things start changing for him. He still wants to race, and he still wants to win, but by the end of the movie, the audience wants him to win, too. We want everyone in the movie to win.
This movie's soundtrack is a fun mix of rock, Mowtown, doo-wop, and country. It includes Sheryl Crow's "Real Gone" to open the movie. Of course, "Get Your Kicks on Route 66" is present... twice. The first time, it's the Chuck Berry version; for the closing credits, it's John Mayer. "Our Town" is characteristic James Taylor is predictably heart-breaking. And "Sh-Boom" by the 1950s band The Chords is a lot of fun; it's also the only hit they ever had. I think it holds up!
There are a few other songs, and the score is enjoyable, even apart from the movie.
But the song that means the most to me is this one. I never thought that a country song could be the anthem of my life, but this one fits. It's called "Find Yourself" and it's by Brad Paisley, an artist who appears on all three Cars soundtracks. He also wrote and performed "Behind the Clouds" on this soundtrack, and it's a super fun old-school/honky-tonk-sounding country song.
The song is brilliant because of how well it fits the overarching theme of the movie from Lightning McQueen's viewpoint, but also because you can take it on its own, apart from the film, and it's still profound. I was going to write some more but instead, just listen to it. I listened to it four times in a row on the drive home today while Mal slept, and I cried every time.
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
Baby Steps
It's the day after Memorial Day, schools are getting out, and we're well into at least a week of 100+ temperatures.
James worked from home today, so Mal and I headed out just before James's 11 AM "meeting." We spent a couple of hours at Little Land, and it hit me how much easier it is going now that Mal will just use the restroom of his own volition (rather than my having to ask and ask and ask and finally basically insist).
I was a little high-strung today, though, because I don't deal well with having work hanging over my head. Well, we had a couple of things today.
First, we're finally replacing the insulation above D's room where the water damage guy had to take a bunch of it out because it was soaked and ruined. I went to The Home Depot after Little Land and got a 25 foot roll, then got home to measure so we could cut it... and did I mention the temperature? Because just standing in the opening to the attic measuring was miserable. It's the first time probably in my life that I've been tempted to play the "poor, feeble wife" card. All I could think was, "I do NOT want to suit up and lay this fiberglass." Fortunately, I was able to play the asthma card (I know, fiberglass insulation doesn't cause asthma, but I do have stress- and exercise-induced asthma, and there are ALWAYS allergens around -- like all 3 cats, plus whatever visitor droppings are in the attic from previous visitors -- so it's likely) and I have an awesome husband who's going to get up and do it tomorrow morning. Because he loves me.
Second, D woke me up at 5 the other morning to help trap and release a 3-inch roach she'd found in the bathroom. Last night, I found another one on the wall in the hallway. D and I have both caught scorpions (small ones; not like the 4-incher I saw in the back yard the day after Mother's Day). So I called Terminix to add general pest control to our termite contract, and they're coming out tomorrow. I needed to get into D's room to help clean, get everything off of the floor so they can spray, and that meant doing the laundry first as D mentioned needed to wash the linens on the bed. So it was a whole thing, and D is a day sleeper, and by about 4, I pretty much just made a bunch of noise and insisted it was time.
Anyway, everything's done that can be done now, and that's cool. But I anticipate having to do boring or hard stuff more than I should. None of it was that bad. Especially since I'm not actually the one who has to cut and place the insulation. I did prepare 2 meals, did 3 loads of laundry, took out the trash and recycling, vacuumed the whole house, installed some under-cabinet lighting, and cleaned out the litter boxes, if that makes you feel better about our division of labor.
Oh! Also, a big deal happened today when we were cleaning out D's room!
On October 26, 2013, D and I (up there) stood in line for the grand opening of Tiff's Treats in North Austin somewhere. One of the cool freebies we got was an XL burnt orange T-shirt. D wore it a lot, and because we have "affectionate" cats, it ended up torn. We sewed the holes, and once a big part ripped, so we sewed that and joked about the "scar." At some point, I brought up trashing it, but D said it had sentimental value to it. Before we moved away from the Nuthaus, I went over to see if they had any more T-shirts, and they did not.
Eventually, the collar wore out or got ripped out or something, so the shirt would fall off at the shoulders. There was finally more tear and hole than shirt material. Now that D knows how to sew, my repair responsibilities were no more, but the shirt has probably been doctored at least half a dozen times.
So, tonight, while we were cleaning up, D put three T-shirts, this one included, on the bed and said, "These can probably go away now." I said, "You can just go put them in the trash. Or do I need to?" "Probably you." So I did. Gladly. Proudly.
This might not seem like cause for noting or celebrating if you don't deal with OCD or hoarding, but, let me tell you, it's HUGE. I played it cool so as not to ruin it, but I'm just so excited that we were finally in a place where we could let those old rags go!
Onward and upward!
James worked from home today, so Mal and I headed out just before James's 11 AM "meeting." We spent a couple of hours at Little Land, and it hit me how much easier it is going now that Mal will just use the restroom of his own volition (rather than my having to ask and ask and ask and finally basically insist).
I was a little high-strung today, though, because I don't deal well with having work hanging over my head. Well, we had a couple of things today.
First, we're finally replacing the insulation above D's room where the water damage guy had to take a bunch of it out because it was soaked and ruined. I went to The Home Depot after Little Land and got a 25 foot roll, then got home to measure so we could cut it... and did I mention the temperature? Because just standing in the opening to the attic measuring was miserable. It's the first time probably in my life that I've been tempted to play the "poor, feeble wife" card. All I could think was, "I do NOT want to suit up and lay this fiberglass." Fortunately, I was able to play the asthma card (I know, fiberglass insulation doesn't cause asthma, but I do have stress- and exercise-induced asthma, and there are ALWAYS allergens around -- like all 3 cats, plus whatever visitor droppings are in the attic from previous visitors -- so it's likely) and I have an awesome husband who's going to get up and do it tomorrow morning. Because he loves me.
Second, D woke me up at 5 the other morning to help trap and release a 3-inch roach she'd found in the bathroom. Last night, I found another one on the wall in the hallway. D and I have both caught scorpions (small ones; not like the 4-incher I saw in the back yard the day after Mother's Day). So I called Terminix to add general pest control to our termite contract, and they're coming out tomorrow. I needed to get into D's room to help clean, get everything off of the floor so they can spray, and that meant doing the laundry first as D mentioned needed to wash the linens on the bed. So it was a whole thing, and D is a day sleeper, and by about 4, I pretty much just made a bunch of noise and insisted it was time.
Anyway, everything's done that can be done now, and that's cool. But I anticipate having to do boring or hard stuff more than I should. None of it was that bad. Especially since I'm not actually the one who has to cut and place the insulation. I did prepare 2 meals, did 3 loads of laundry, took out the trash and recycling, vacuumed the whole house, installed some under-cabinet lighting, and cleaned out the litter boxes, if that makes you feel better about our division of labor.
Oh! Also, a big deal happened today when we were cleaning out D's room!
On October 26, 2013, D and I (up there) stood in line for the grand opening of Tiff's Treats in North Austin somewhere. One of the cool freebies we got was an XL burnt orange T-shirt. D wore it a lot, and because we have "affectionate" cats, it ended up torn. We sewed the holes, and once a big part ripped, so we sewed that and joked about the "scar." At some point, I brought up trashing it, but D said it had sentimental value to it. Before we moved away from the Nuthaus, I went over to see if they had any more T-shirts, and they did not.
Eventually, the collar wore out or got ripped out or something, so the shirt would fall off at the shoulders. There was finally more tear and hole than shirt material. Now that D knows how to sew, my repair responsibilities were no more, but the shirt has probably been doctored at least half a dozen times.
So, tonight, while we were cleaning up, D put three T-shirts, this one included, on the bed and said, "These can probably go away now." I said, "You can just go put them in the trash. Or do I need to?" "Probably you." So I did. Gladly. Proudly.
This might not seem like cause for noting or celebrating if you don't deal with OCD or hoarding, but, let me tell you, it's HUGE. I played it cool so as not to ruin it, but I'm just so excited that we were finally in a place where we could let those old rags go!
Onward and upward!
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Solo: a Review
I watched this today, and I walked away with very mixed fillings.
I still much prefer the alternate title I saw suggested a few months back: "Two Rogues." Even though, honestly, that wouldn't have fit.
Ron Howard was the director who ultimately put his name on it. So of course it isn't bad. It just seemed very hit-or-miss to me. It's almost as if they'd canned the original director halfway through because his vision was completely wrong (which they totally did).
In most ways, this film is very true to the saga's origins and background.
It feels a lot like the fairly low-budget B-grade sci-fi cheese-ball fluff piece that inspired everything.
At the same time, it definitely ties in to the bigger picture Star Wars universe. And it's not like they skimped on the special effects.
If you're the sort of fan who hates what Disney's doing with the Grade-A top-level wrap-up-the-Skywalker-saga epic parts, and yearns for a return to the simpler days when men were men, wookies ripped away arms, and droids resented places that didn't serve their kind, this is a movie you'll love.
Visually, it works wonderfully well. With one grating exception, the aliens, droids, and environments were a delightful melange that worked great for me. There was a pleasant mix of familiarity and innovation.
The actor they picked to play Han didn't display Harrison Ford's silky-smooth charisma and mastodon confidence. He came across as a kid who was desperate to fill a gigantic pair of boots with bravado.
To be fair, that was perfect for this part and stage of Han's life.
Ultimately, this is the story about how he went from gutter-snipe street-rat to that arrogant self-centered, self-serving jackass from A New Hope who had enough character to grow into the general the Rebel Alliance needed for Return of the Jedi.
Well, ultimately, this was the story of the Millenium Falcon and the men who loved her. But that angle's a bit weird.
There's a lot of nostalgia in this film. That's really the draw. If you're a Han Solo fan, I think you owe it to yourself to watch this movie.
Is it worth watching in the theater?
I'm not sure about that one.
There were details that probably won't show up on something like a dinky little 60 inch screen. So, if you're a hard-core die-hard fan (I guess I qualify here), then sure.
I'm sad that I feel this way about it. This film has "sappy fan favorite" written all over it. I'm really looking forward to buying my copy from Amazon so I can sit up late trying to piece together all the details that don't make sense after my first viewing.
I don't really have any desire to try to convince Mal to sit through it (he's already proclaimed that he isn't interested, because he's only interested in Star Wars movies). I think Laura would be completely underwhelmed.
Honestly, I was *far* more excited about Deadpool 2 last weekend. If that's too gritty and bloody for your tastes (and it should be, honestly), Avengers: Infinity War is still a better movie than Solo.
Then again, Avengers is pretty gruesome. It's mostly comic book-style violence, but I still don't think Mal would be comfortable with it. And, well...everything I want to write here counts as a spoiler. I'll just say that quite a few people die on-screen, in case that sort of thing bothers you.
Solo is PG-13. It's the friendliest of the bunch, if you want to avoid serious mayhem and body counts.
I still much prefer the alternate title I saw suggested a few months back: "Two Rogues." Even though, honestly, that wouldn't have fit.
Ron Howard was the director who ultimately put his name on it. So of course it isn't bad. It just seemed very hit-or-miss to me. It's almost as if they'd canned the original director halfway through because his vision was completely wrong (which they totally did).
In most ways, this film is very true to the saga's origins and background.
It feels a lot like the fairly low-budget B-grade sci-fi cheese-ball fluff piece that inspired everything.
At the same time, it definitely ties in to the bigger picture Star Wars universe. And it's not like they skimped on the special effects.
If you're the sort of fan who hates what Disney's doing with the Grade-A top-level wrap-up-the-Skywalker-saga epic parts, and yearns for a return to the simpler days when men were men, wookies ripped away arms, and droids resented places that didn't serve their kind, this is a movie you'll love.
Visually, it works wonderfully well. With one grating exception, the aliens, droids, and environments were a delightful melange that worked great for me. There was a pleasant mix of familiarity and innovation.
The actor they picked to play Han didn't display Harrison Ford's silky-smooth charisma and mastodon confidence. He came across as a kid who was desperate to fill a gigantic pair of boots with bravado.
To be fair, that was perfect for this part and stage of Han's life.
Ultimately, this is the story about how he went from gutter-snipe street-rat to that arrogant self-centered, self-serving jackass from A New Hope who had enough character to grow into the general the Rebel Alliance needed for Return of the Jedi.
Well, ultimately, this was the story of the Millenium Falcon and the men who loved her. But that angle's a bit weird.
There's a lot of nostalgia in this film. That's really the draw. If you're a Han Solo fan, I think you owe it to yourself to watch this movie.
Is it worth watching in the theater?
I'm not sure about that one.
There were details that probably won't show up on something like a dinky little 60 inch screen. So, if you're a hard-core die-hard fan (I guess I qualify here), then sure.
I'm sad that I feel this way about it. This film has "sappy fan favorite" written all over it. I'm really looking forward to buying my copy from Amazon so I can sit up late trying to piece together all the details that don't make sense after my first viewing.
I don't really have any desire to try to convince Mal to sit through it (he's already proclaimed that he isn't interested, because he's only interested in Star Wars movies). I think Laura would be completely underwhelmed.
Honestly, I was *far* more excited about Deadpool 2 last weekend. If that's too gritty and bloody for your tastes (and it should be, honestly), Avengers: Infinity War is still a better movie than Solo.
Then again, Avengers is pretty gruesome. It's mostly comic book-style violence, but I still don't think Mal would be comfortable with it. And, well...everything I want to write here counts as a spoiler. I'll just say that quite a few people die on-screen, in case that sort of thing bothers you.
Solo is PG-13. It's the friendliest of the bunch, if you want to avoid serious mayhem and body counts.
A thing I wrote last week...
I'm sorry that I was
Too much for you to handle.
But you wanted a bonsai;
Something you could prune,
Meticulously trimming back
Until a shape pleasing to you
Would emerge.
Instead, I am a wildflower
Spoiled by handling
But thriving in the sun and fresh air;
Blooming loud and shameless
On a hillside for all to see.
Too much for you to handle.
But you wanted a bonsai;
Something you could prune,
Meticulously trimming back
Until a shape pleasing to you
Would emerge.
Instead, I am a wildflower
Spoiled by handling
But thriving in the sun and fresh air;
Blooming loud and shameless
On a hillside for all to see.
Thursday, May 24, 2018
What I Did Today
Today was story time at the library. Mal acted like he wanted to go, until it was time to go. Then he didn't.
We haven't been to story time in months. Every time I suggest it, he literally starts crying. I don't know why; he can't articulate anything beyond, "I want to stay home!" So we do.
Today, after deciding not to go to story time, Mal told me he wanted strawberries. I was excited about the thought of going to 365 by Whole Foods, where berries are always 10% off for club members, but that was not what Mal had in mind.
Due largely to the influence of "Ryan's Toy Review" (Google it if you're uninitiated), Mal wanted to go pick strawberries. I did not. It is humid and hot, but not as hot as it's going to be next week.
Here is where the parenting rubber hits the road.
Allegedly, James and I are committed to giving Mal as much power in determining his own fate as it is possible and practical to do. And I had no reason to say, "No," so I didn't. We headed west on 1431 for what is, I believe, one of the prettiest drives in this area. It's about 45 minutes, and I knew Mal would fall asleep on the way home (which he did).
There was almost no one there, and the berries are dwindling. But we got enough to eat and maybe make something delicious. The heat got to us when the clouds weren't obscuring the sun. Mal lasted about 25 seconds on the bounce pillow thing. We caught lunch at Chick-fil-A and then found two new Cars at H-E-B before napping and/or enjoying the vistas on the trip back.
Pretty much any parenting style demands doing things that inconvenient to the parent. But you have to do it so you can look back with as few regrets as possible. And Mal was so much fun to hang out with today; I'm glad we went. I'll go to 365 tomorrow.
We haven't been to story time in months. Every time I suggest it, he literally starts crying. I don't know why; he can't articulate anything beyond, "I want to stay home!" So we do.
Today, after deciding not to go to story time, Mal told me he wanted strawberries. I was excited about the thought of going to 365 by Whole Foods, where berries are always 10% off for club members, but that was not what Mal had in mind.
Due largely to the influence of "Ryan's Toy Review" (Google it if you're uninitiated), Mal wanted to go pick strawberries. I did not. It is humid and hot, but not as hot as it's going to be next week.
Here is where the parenting rubber hits the road.
Allegedly, James and I are committed to giving Mal as much power in determining his own fate as it is possible and practical to do. And I had no reason to say, "No," so I didn't. We headed west on 1431 for what is, I believe, one of the prettiest drives in this area. It's about 45 minutes, and I knew Mal would fall asleep on the way home (which he did).
There was almost no one there, and the berries are dwindling. But we got enough to eat and maybe make something delicious. The heat got to us when the clouds weren't obscuring the sun. Mal lasted about 25 seconds on the bounce pillow thing. We caught lunch at Chick-fil-A and then found two new Cars at H-E-B before napping and/or enjoying the vistas on the trip back.
Pretty much any parenting style demands doing things that inconvenient to the parent. But you have to do it so you can look back with as few regrets as possible. And Mal was so much fun to hang out with today; I'm glad we went. I'll go to 365 tomorrow.
For the love of all that is good and holy...
There was an interview with the cast of Arrested Development that was very difficult for me to read/listen to. There was a lot of clapback and Jason Bateman has issued an apology, which is the right thing to do, but if I had been planning on watching, I'd not be able to now because I know the hurt that was involved, and I can't suspend my memory enough to enjoy the program.
In thinking about why I reacted so viscerally to this, I realized something: It's pretty much a replay of my meeting(s) with the elders of my church when I explained why I'd chosen to divorce my husband. I was sitting in this room, outnumbered by men, all of whom attempted to convince me that my reality wasn't significant enough to justify my feelings.
EFFFFFFFF THAAAATT!
Breaking from the world of entertainment and focusing on religiosity, here's something that seems blatantly obvious in retrospect but is not a thing I'd really considered before: If you, as a lady, are a sincere Christian attempting to devoutly follow the teachings of the modern evangelical church, you can get caught between The Rock (not Dwayne Johnson; the earlier one) and a Holy Hard Place.
Typically, you're in a heterosexual marriage following the alleged biblical mandate that there is a divine hierarchy (benevolent, sure -hopefully-, but a hierarchy nonetheless) in which the husband is the head of the household and, as such, has extra accountability and responsibility. That can look a lot like power, and where there is a power imbalance, there is always the opportunity for abuse.
My first husband took this all seriously, but was generally kind. My second husband likely had good intentions, but was consistently unkind and extremely low key controlling.
The same thing can be said for submitting to church authority, the vast majority of whom are men. When someone, be it a partner or a leader, claims to be speaking on behalf of God, what is a well-meaning woman supposed to do?
I actually heard from my husband, "I'm making this decision for our family, and if I'm wrong, then I'll have to answer to God about it. But I'm trying to do what's best." This was in regards to excising my sister and her family from our day-to-day life. WWJD, right?
And from a preacher's wife, who, yeah, is female but definitely a tool of the patriarchy, "Don't you trust God to protect your child?" Anyone who knows anything can tell you that this is emotional manipulation of the most blatant kind.
In both situations, I had the choice of complying and staying in good favor or of saying, "No. You're wrong" at the expense of implying that God is the one who was wrong. I have been dis-invited from two congregations for doing things of which the leaders disapproved (because, in their defense, it said so in the Bible), even though I didn't feel in either situation that God himself was displeased (or dishonored, as I was told my actions necessarily did).
This never entered my conscious brain until this morning, and I'm sure it had zero to do with my decision-making when it came time to get hitched to my non-believing husband, but I have to say... It's super empowering to be in a relationship where one side cannot appeal to a God-given authority to mandate the other's behavior. Instead, when James and I disagree, we come together and talk, we reason, we work together. I get that many Christian marriages operate this way, but I know a lot that don't.
Also, I'm so grateful for women like Sarah Bessey, author of "Jesus Feminist;" Rachel Held Evans, author of "A Year of Biblical Womanhood;" and other female Christian voices who are out there spreading the news that we can have an egalitarian outlook on life and still love Jesus. Women (nor anyone) should never have to endure any kind of abuse. Period. Hard stop. I'm committed to calling it out where I see it. I hope you'll join me.
In thinking about why I reacted so viscerally to this, I realized something: It's pretty much a replay of my meeting(s) with the elders of my church when I explained why I'd chosen to divorce my husband. I was sitting in this room, outnumbered by men, all of whom attempted to convince me that my reality wasn't significant enough to justify my feelings.
EFFFFFFFF THAAAATT!
Breaking from the world of entertainment and focusing on religiosity, here's something that seems blatantly obvious in retrospect but is not a thing I'd really considered before: If you, as a lady, are a sincere Christian attempting to devoutly follow the teachings of the modern evangelical church, you can get caught between The Rock (not Dwayne Johnson; the earlier one) and a Holy Hard Place.
Typically, you're in a heterosexual marriage following the alleged biblical mandate that there is a divine hierarchy (benevolent, sure -hopefully-, but a hierarchy nonetheless) in which the husband is the head of the household and, as such, has extra accountability and responsibility. That can look a lot like power, and where there is a power imbalance, there is always the opportunity for abuse.
My first husband took this all seriously, but was generally kind. My second husband likely had good intentions, but was consistently unkind and extremely low key controlling.
The same thing can be said for submitting to church authority, the vast majority of whom are men. When someone, be it a partner or a leader, claims to be speaking on behalf of God, what is a well-meaning woman supposed to do?
I actually heard from my husband, "I'm making this decision for our family, and if I'm wrong, then I'll have to answer to God about it. But I'm trying to do what's best." This was in regards to excising my sister and her family from our day-to-day life. WWJD, right?
And from a preacher's wife, who, yeah, is female but definitely a tool of the patriarchy, "Don't you trust God to protect your child?" Anyone who knows anything can tell you that this is emotional manipulation of the most blatant kind.
In both situations, I had the choice of complying and staying in good favor or of saying, "No. You're wrong" at the expense of implying that God is the one who was wrong. I have been dis-invited from two congregations for doing things of which the leaders disapproved (because, in their defense, it said so in the Bible), even though I didn't feel in either situation that God himself was displeased (or dishonored, as I was told my actions necessarily did).
This never entered my conscious brain until this morning, and I'm sure it had zero to do with my decision-making when it came time to get hitched to my non-believing husband, but I have to say... It's super empowering to be in a relationship where one side cannot appeal to a God-given authority to mandate the other's behavior. Instead, when James and I disagree, we come together and talk, we reason, we work together. I get that many Christian marriages operate this way, but I know a lot that don't.
Also, I'm so grateful for women like Sarah Bessey, author of "Jesus Feminist;" Rachel Held Evans, author of "A Year of Biblical Womanhood;" and other female Christian voices who are out there spreading the news that we can have an egalitarian outlook on life and still love Jesus. Women (nor anyone) should never have to endure any kind of abuse. Period. Hard stop. I'm committed to calling it out where I see it. I hope you'll join me.
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Dear First-Time Expectant Mom
My niece is having her first baby very soon, and I was thinking of something to write in the card for the baby shower. What I want to say seems a bit long-format for that particular venue, so I am going to write it here, and if you're an expectant mother (some of this might apply to fathers, too, but I haven't experienced that angle and don't feel confident to proffer advice), please please try to remember at least some of this. If you read it and take it seriously, it might make your first year of parenting easier (in a way that allll of the books can't and don't).
Dear First-Time Expectant Mom:
Congratulations! You almost made it through your pregnancy! You've no doubt thought about the ways in which your life is about to change. Maybe you've taken classes. Maybe you've read stuff. That's all good. Unfortunately, most of it doesn't do much to address the reality you're about to face.
In my experience, much of pregnancy prep deals with practical issues: Planning for birth, and then utilitarian things like feeding and diapering and other childcare issues. That's all important. However, they're not the most important. They feel huge, and they are huge, so this sounds insane. But I promise you, it's the truth.
Here are some things I never saw addressed during my pregnancy, but they actually are pretty vital, so I'll share them with you. One, so you'll know that you're not alone. Two, so you can rest assured that everything passes (and comes back... and passes again, etc.).
1) You know your life is about to change, but you cannot possibly anticipate how. With my first child, I could still go out to eat. I could go shopping, I could travel. I could mostly operate (on less sleep) as before, toting my easy-to-please child around. Yes, it was 9 months before I got a full night's sleep again, but everything else was pretty smooth. With my second, we couldn't do anything in public because he cried. And I'll let you know when I start getting a full night's sleep (for the record: it's been 3.5 years, and I think twice he's slept about 6 hours in a stretch).
The best way to "prepare" for this change is not to try to anticipate anything. Have no expectations, and be ready to go with the flow. Maybe you'll be one of those moms blithely pushing a cart with a sleeping baby around Target, but maybe you'll be the one riding your bike around the neighborhood in the 90-degree heat because that's the only time your kid isn't fussy. That kind of leads into the second point...
2) There will be moments of unprecedented joy and magic, to be sure. But there will also be times when you feel deep regret and wonder if you made a mistake. After my first trip to Target with my younger, I sat in the car and cried with him, after he'd screamed his newborn(ish) scream our entire time inside of the store. I thought, "We have made a huge mistake! We were almost free!" My older child was coming of the age where doing stuff with the parents isn't super cool, and the hands-on parenting finish line had been in view.
Babies, even good-natured babies, are hard. They need every literal thing. They are demanding, and they do not offer positive feedback for months. You only hear from them when they're uncomfortable or unhappy or bored. There's no "high five for anticipating that one, Mom" from them. Ever.
With my first, I remember crying at the first bout of baby hiccups. They hiccups themselves didn't bother me, but just regarding this tiny human, I thought, "Why did they let us bring this person home? We don't know what to do." And then once, a few months later, I looked upon a "safe haven" sign at an urgent care... one of those places where you can relinquish your child with no questions asked. I wondered, "Why don't they have a 24-hour program? I'd come back. I really would."
I think there's a lot of pressure to "cherish every moment." Especially if you went to extraordinary means to have a child, or if you adopted, or if you had several failed pregnancies before you had a baby. Under that pressure, those totally normal moments of grief for the life you might have had can lead to extreme guilt, and with pregnancy hormones (or post-adoption exhaustion, or whatever your situation might be), this can lead to a downward spiral to the tune of "I'm a terrible mom. I don't deserve to have this child." False. You're a normal mom. In a few minutes, or days, or years, you'll feel sorry for your former self for not knowing this amazing person. Just maybe not immediately. Which dove-tails into the third point...
3) Maternal love might not be instant. Have you read things to the tune of, "The first time I saw those precious eyes, my entire heart melted!" I have. In fact, recently I saw a picture of a friend's daughter that was taken shortly after her third child was born. In the picture was her, in the hospital bed, holding the baby; her husband; and their other two children. It was captioned, "We're already in love!" Very truthfully, my knee-jerk was, "Honestly? Already??"
After my first was born, the nurse showed me the baby, and my mental monologue went, "Huh." Seriously, my deepest thought was, "Well, that's a thing that just happened." A few days later, when we were looking at having to be readmitted to the hospital for jaundice and failure to thrive, I wept over that baby, pledging my undying love and protection for as long as I lived. But I don't think that's the same thing as affection.
For me, the maternal protection (sort of "mama bear" thing?) was instant, almost instinctual. But the love built over time, as love does.
(Incidentally, and this note is specifically for my niece, one reason I include this point is that Nan told me I was the first person she'd ever heard say out loud that I didn't feel a deep emotional connection to my child at birth. She'd felt the same way, apparently. We're in good company.)
4) There are a lot of "experts," but you're the expert of your child. People have lots of ideas about parenting, especially babies. All sorts of very strong beliefs about feeding (breast, formula, or a mix? child-led weaning? veggies first? 4 months? 6 months?), sleeping (bed-sharing? sleep training? naps?), scheduling (important? comforting? necessary? parent-led?), waste management (cloth? disposable? elimination communication?), training (set habits early? spoil a kid?), caring for your child (stay home? nanny? day care? preschool?). The advice can be overwhelming.
Knowing your options is great, and then knowing your family so you can make the best choice for you is the best thing. People won't always agree with your choices, and sometimes vocally. I've had homeschool mom friends who were reluctant to admit they'd put their kids in school lest they be looked down on by other homeschool moms. I've also had friends not admit they homeschool lest they be seen as "one of those moms." You can listen to well-meaning input as much as you want, then, by all means, kindly shut it down, saying something like, "Thank you for caring, but this is the best decision for our family right now."
Whatever you do, don't internalize it. There's a lot of fear that the wrong step might "ruin" your child. "If they go to daycare, they'll never bond properly with me as a primary care-giver!" "If I let them sleep with me, they'll never go into their own bed and they'll need therapy just to go to college!"
There was a podcast a few years ago on Freakonomics that bears a listen. The short version of what they found is: As a parent, it actually doesn't matter a whole lot what you do, in terms of reading to your kids or putting them in enrichment programs, or working full time, or staying home, or teaching them three languages as they grow up, etc. People basically turn out fine, regardless. That might sound defeating, like, "Why even bother?" but to me, it's extremely comforting. I have good intentions and might make some missteps, but my kids are not going to suffer inordinately because of them.
What these economists found is that people *do* remember whether or not their parents were kind to them, and that their ideas about drinking and smoking were affected by their parents. But, really, that's about it. So do your best, be kind to your kids, and don't turn them into emphysemic drunks.
5) "A mom has to take care of herself before she can take care of her kids." Can we just call BS on this right now? Granted, you need to eat food. And watch for signs of illness. But there are times, occasionally long stretches of time, when you simply cannot care much for yourself. Sometimes, you can't make yourself sleep when the baby sleeps because you have too much to do. There are times when you just want five minutes in your own quiet head, but your baby has a different idea, and you wonder about those moms who confess to using the restroom as a getaway, because whose kids respect a closed door? You will reach the point, once, twice, multiple times, where the thought occurs to you, "If I don't get XYZ soon" where XYZ is a full night's sleep, an afternoon with no responsibility, an entire meal eaten sitting down without holding a baby in your lap, etc., "then I'm going to lose my freaking mind."
The good news is: You won't. Not permanently, anyway. Yes, you'll forget commonplace words when you're trying to have a conversation. Yes, you'll feel like a zombie and wonder what happened to your energy. Yes, you'll cringe when Nana tells you that she just woke up from her second nap today... nope, sorry. That one's a bit too specific for the general public. But you get the idea. The good news is that the human body, especially mom's, is resilient in ways you never would have imagined.
One thing that really helps is to release the "I need" mentality. Or, worse, the "I deserve" one. As in: "I need at least seven hours of uninterrupted sleep." "I deserve a break!" "I can't survive without two hours to myself every day." Accept that you have a new normal and lean into it, finding rhythms that work for you and your child. It likely won't be ideal for either of you. For you, you now have an entire new human reliant on you for every single thing. From the baby's perspective, he was just somewhere all of his needs were met with no bright lights or scratchy clothes or loud noises and everything is overwhelming. But you can find a comfortable place. Together.
And that's another thing...
6) Always give your child the benefit of the doubt. You will, mark my words, think (or say out loud), "I just fed you and changed you and you got a bath and you're comfortable right now, so WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!" And you might even mentally, or verbally, add, "Are you TRYING to make me crazy?!" Because that's how it can feel.
Just remember what we said above about your child's former home. It was literally tailored to him and meeting his needs. Everything is new and scary and he needs your empathy and support, even when you feel like you've reached the end of your ability to provide it. You will never look back and wish you'd been more severe. As disconcerting as the sound of your baby crying is, it is the only means they have to communicate with you.
7) You can fight your baby's natural inclinations, or you can accommodate them. Your child might be awake from 4 AM to 6 AM. Every day. For months. You can spend that time saying, "Go back to sleep!" and trying to rock them, nurse them, and cajole them back to sleep, all the while becoming more frustrated and desperate, or you can figure out a way to make it work. Go to sleep at the ridiculously early hour of 7:30 PM. Take a short nap before heading to pick your child up at daycare. Drink lots of coffee. Use that time to play, to be present, to bond.
Back when my younger child cried 4+ hours per day for no discernible reason and with no apparent fix, someone encouraged me that during those most stressful times is when your bond with your child is forged the strongest. I didn't fully understand it at the time, and maybe I still don't. But I do know this: When that child is upset now, even with me, he will still cry in my arms. Is it because he knows, from the day he was born, that I don't run from his crying? I'm not sure. But guess what? I know it.
Same with your baby not being prone to napping, or only wanting to fall asleep in your arms, or never wanting to take a "full" feeding (whatever that is). Help your child learn to listen to his own body by taking his lead on these things when you can.
That old phrase, "You can lead a horse to water, but you wan't make him drink" applies to so much. When I hear a parent talk about how they spend half of their day trying to get their kid to sleep (a couple of hours at nap time and a couple at night), I just wonder, "Why?" There's a lot of pressure to "develop good habits early" or else. The implied threat is your child's inability to be disciplined or function normally, but that's a load of garbage. Most adults can sleep when they need to (absent medical or mental issues preventing it), sit at a table for an entire meal, etc.
Don't make your life difficult now because you're trying to insure against an imaginary future disaster that is not likely to happen.
8) Your child will inevitably bring about the most joy you will ever experience. He will also uncover your weaknesses and challenge you in ways that no parent, sibling, or romantic partner ever could. I'd never say, "Be grateful for the opportunity to grow" because I hate to hear that kind of garbage (and I don't want to get punched in the face). But I mention it so you can be on the lookout for it. When you feel the most strong resentment or frustration toward your little one, stop and ponder, "Why is this causing such a reaction in me? What is making me feel like this?" (And sometimes the real answer is simply "I'm beyond tired and have zero energy for myself, much less another human." Welcome to parenting!)
I've often said that having a kid forces you either to grow up or to be a lousy parent. It's your choice, and it's one you're going to have to make over and over again. Just know that a failure here and there doesn't mean you've messed it up irreparably.
Finally, I want to leave you with this assurance: I know a lot of moms. I know moms who stay home and make kid-raising their full time job. I know homeschooling moms who work full time and have a nanny. I know moms who've worked from the beginning so that their kids have grown up "in" daycare. I know moms who have done a combination of things as their lives have changed. And all of those kids know who their mom is, they love them dearly, and every one of us finds ways to make our relationships with our children the obvious priority. All of our kids feel this. They all know they are cherished. There is no one right way.
Do your thing. Accept help. Reach out. Be honest. Enjoy as much as your heart can handle, and don't feel guilty when you're bored senseless. Recognize that you can guide but you cannot control another human being, even a tiny one who needs you for everything. Rest assured that he will turn out all right.
Best of luck, and happiest of days.
With love,
Aunt Sister
Dear First-Time Expectant Mom:
Congratulations! You almost made it through your pregnancy! You've no doubt thought about the ways in which your life is about to change. Maybe you've taken classes. Maybe you've read stuff. That's all good. Unfortunately, most of it doesn't do much to address the reality you're about to face.
In my experience, much of pregnancy prep deals with practical issues: Planning for birth, and then utilitarian things like feeding and diapering and other childcare issues. That's all important. However, they're not the most important. They feel huge, and they are huge, so this sounds insane. But I promise you, it's the truth.
Here are some things I never saw addressed during my pregnancy, but they actually are pretty vital, so I'll share them with you. One, so you'll know that you're not alone. Two, so you can rest assured that everything passes (and comes back... and passes again, etc.).
1) You know your life is about to change, but you cannot possibly anticipate how. With my first child, I could still go out to eat. I could go shopping, I could travel. I could mostly operate (on less sleep) as before, toting my easy-to-please child around. Yes, it was 9 months before I got a full night's sleep again, but everything else was pretty smooth. With my second, we couldn't do anything in public because he cried. And I'll let you know when I start getting a full night's sleep (for the record: it's been 3.5 years, and I think twice he's slept about 6 hours in a stretch).
The best way to "prepare" for this change is not to try to anticipate anything. Have no expectations, and be ready to go with the flow. Maybe you'll be one of those moms blithely pushing a cart with a sleeping baby around Target, but maybe you'll be the one riding your bike around the neighborhood in the 90-degree heat because that's the only time your kid isn't fussy. That kind of leads into the second point...
2) There will be moments of unprecedented joy and magic, to be sure. But there will also be times when you feel deep regret and wonder if you made a mistake. After my first trip to Target with my younger, I sat in the car and cried with him, after he'd screamed his newborn(ish) scream our entire time inside of the store. I thought, "We have made a huge mistake! We were almost free!" My older child was coming of the age where doing stuff with the parents isn't super cool, and the hands-on parenting finish line had been in view.
Babies, even good-natured babies, are hard. They need every literal thing. They are demanding, and they do not offer positive feedback for months. You only hear from them when they're uncomfortable or unhappy or bored. There's no "high five for anticipating that one, Mom" from them. Ever.
With my first, I remember crying at the first bout of baby hiccups. They hiccups themselves didn't bother me, but just regarding this tiny human, I thought, "Why did they let us bring this person home? We don't know what to do." And then once, a few months later, I looked upon a "safe haven" sign at an urgent care... one of those places where you can relinquish your child with no questions asked. I wondered, "Why don't they have a 24-hour program? I'd come back. I really would."
I think there's a lot of pressure to "cherish every moment." Especially if you went to extraordinary means to have a child, or if you adopted, or if you had several failed pregnancies before you had a baby. Under that pressure, those totally normal moments of grief for the life you might have had can lead to extreme guilt, and with pregnancy hormones (or post-adoption exhaustion, or whatever your situation might be), this can lead to a downward spiral to the tune of "I'm a terrible mom. I don't deserve to have this child." False. You're a normal mom. In a few minutes, or days, or years, you'll feel sorry for your former self for not knowing this amazing person. Just maybe not immediately. Which dove-tails into the third point...
3) Maternal love might not be instant. Have you read things to the tune of, "The first time I saw those precious eyes, my entire heart melted!" I have. In fact, recently I saw a picture of a friend's daughter that was taken shortly after her third child was born. In the picture was her, in the hospital bed, holding the baby; her husband; and their other two children. It was captioned, "We're already in love!" Very truthfully, my knee-jerk was, "Honestly? Already??"
After my first was born, the nurse showed me the baby, and my mental monologue went, "Huh." Seriously, my deepest thought was, "Well, that's a thing that just happened." A few days later, when we were looking at having to be readmitted to the hospital for jaundice and failure to thrive, I wept over that baby, pledging my undying love and protection for as long as I lived. But I don't think that's the same thing as affection.
For me, the maternal protection (sort of "mama bear" thing?) was instant, almost instinctual. But the love built over time, as love does.
(Incidentally, and this note is specifically for my niece, one reason I include this point is that Nan told me I was the first person she'd ever heard say out loud that I didn't feel a deep emotional connection to my child at birth. She'd felt the same way, apparently. We're in good company.)
4) There are a lot of "experts," but you're the expert of your child. People have lots of ideas about parenting, especially babies. All sorts of very strong beliefs about feeding (breast, formula, or a mix? child-led weaning? veggies first? 4 months? 6 months?), sleeping (bed-sharing? sleep training? naps?), scheduling (important? comforting? necessary? parent-led?), waste management (cloth? disposable? elimination communication?), training (set habits early? spoil a kid?), caring for your child (stay home? nanny? day care? preschool?). The advice can be overwhelming.
Knowing your options is great, and then knowing your family so you can make the best choice for you is the best thing. People won't always agree with your choices, and sometimes vocally. I've had homeschool mom friends who were reluctant to admit they'd put their kids in school lest they be looked down on by other homeschool moms. I've also had friends not admit they homeschool lest they be seen as "one of those moms." You can listen to well-meaning input as much as you want, then, by all means, kindly shut it down, saying something like, "Thank you for caring, but this is the best decision for our family right now."
Whatever you do, don't internalize it. There's a lot of fear that the wrong step might "ruin" your child. "If they go to daycare, they'll never bond properly with me as a primary care-giver!" "If I let them sleep with me, they'll never go into their own bed and they'll need therapy just to go to college!"
There was a podcast a few years ago on Freakonomics that bears a listen. The short version of what they found is: As a parent, it actually doesn't matter a whole lot what you do, in terms of reading to your kids or putting them in enrichment programs, or working full time, or staying home, or teaching them three languages as they grow up, etc. People basically turn out fine, regardless. That might sound defeating, like, "Why even bother?" but to me, it's extremely comforting. I have good intentions and might make some missteps, but my kids are not going to suffer inordinately because of them.
What these economists found is that people *do* remember whether or not their parents were kind to them, and that their ideas about drinking and smoking were affected by their parents. But, really, that's about it. So do your best, be kind to your kids, and don't turn them into emphysemic drunks.
5) "A mom has to take care of herself before she can take care of her kids." Can we just call BS on this right now? Granted, you need to eat food. And watch for signs of illness. But there are times, occasionally long stretches of time, when you simply cannot care much for yourself. Sometimes, you can't make yourself sleep when the baby sleeps because you have too much to do. There are times when you just want five minutes in your own quiet head, but your baby has a different idea, and you wonder about those moms who confess to using the restroom as a getaway, because whose kids respect a closed door? You will reach the point, once, twice, multiple times, where the thought occurs to you, "If I don't get XYZ soon" where XYZ is a full night's sleep, an afternoon with no responsibility, an entire meal eaten sitting down without holding a baby in your lap, etc., "then I'm going to lose my freaking mind."
The good news is: You won't. Not permanently, anyway. Yes, you'll forget commonplace words when you're trying to have a conversation. Yes, you'll feel like a zombie and wonder what happened to your energy. Yes, you'll cringe when Nana tells you that she just woke up from her second nap today... nope, sorry. That one's a bit too specific for the general public. But you get the idea. The good news is that the human body, especially mom's, is resilient in ways you never would have imagined.
One thing that really helps is to release the "I need" mentality. Or, worse, the "I deserve" one. As in: "I need at least seven hours of uninterrupted sleep." "I deserve a break!" "I can't survive without two hours to myself every day." Accept that you have a new normal and lean into it, finding rhythms that work for you and your child. It likely won't be ideal for either of you. For you, you now have an entire new human reliant on you for every single thing. From the baby's perspective, he was just somewhere all of his needs were met with no bright lights or scratchy clothes or loud noises and everything is overwhelming. But you can find a comfortable place. Together.
And that's another thing...
6) Always give your child the benefit of the doubt. You will, mark my words, think (or say out loud), "I just fed you and changed you and you got a bath and you're comfortable right now, so WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!" And you might even mentally, or verbally, add, "Are you TRYING to make me crazy?!" Because that's how it can feel.
Just remember what we said above about your child's former home. It was literally tailored to him and meeting his needs. Everything is new and scary and he needs your empathy and support, even when you feel like you've reached the end of your ability to provide it. You will never look back and wish you'd been more severe. As disconcerting as the sound of your baby crying is, it is the only means they have to communicate with you.
7) You can fight your baby's natural inclinations, or you can accommodate them. Your child might be awake from 4 AM to 6 AM. Every day. For months. You can spend that time saying, "Go back to sleep!" and trying to rock them, nurse them, and cajole them back to sleep, all the while becoming more frustrated and desperate, or you can figure out a way to make it work. Go to sleep at the ridiculously early hour of 7:30 PM. Take a short nap before heading to pick your child up at daycare. Drink lots of coffee. Use that time to play, to be present, to bond.
Back when my younger child cried 4+ hours per day for no discernible reason and with no apparent fix, someone encouraged me that during those most stressful times is when your bond with your child is forged the strongest. I didn't fully understand it at the time, and maybe I still don't. But I do know this: When that child is upset now, even with me, he will still cry in my arms. Is it because he knows, from the day he was born, that I don't run from his crying? I'm not sure. But guess what? I know it.
Same with your baby not being prone to napping, or only wanting to fall asleep in your arms, or never wanting to take a "full" feeding (whatever that is). Help your child learn to listen to his own body by taking his lead on these things when you can.
That old phrase, "You can lead a horse to water, but you wan't make him drink" applies to so much. When I hear a parent talk about how they spend half of their day trying to get their kid to sleep (a couple of hours at nap time and a couple at night), I just wonder, "Why?" There's a lot of pressure to "develop good habits early" or else. The implied threat is your child's inability to be disciplined or function normally, but that's a load of garbage. Most adults can sleep when they need to (absent medical or mental issues preventing it), sit at a table for an entire meal, etc.
Don't make your life difficult now because you're trying to insure against an imaginary future disaster that is not likely to happen.
8) Your child will inevitably bring about the most joy you will ever experience. He will also uncover your weaknesses and challenge you in ways that no parent, sibling, or romantic partner ever could. I'd never say, "Be grateful for the opportunity to grow" because I hate to hear that kind of garbage (and I don't want to get punched in the face). But I mention it so you can be on the lookout for it. When you feel the most strong resentment or frustration toward your little one, stop and ponder, "Why is this causing such a reaction in me? What is making me feel like this?" (And sometimes the real answer is simply "I'm beyond tired and have zero energy for myself, much less another human." Welcome to parenting!)
I've often said that having a kid forces you either to grow up or to be a lousy parent. It's your choice, and it's one you're going to have to make over and over again. Just know that a failure here and there doesn't mean you've messed it up irreparably.
Finally, I want to leave you with this assurance: I know a lot of moms. I know moms who stay home and make kid-raising their full time job. I know homeschooling moms who work full time and have a nanny. I know moms who've worked from the beginning so that their kids have grown up "in" daycare. I know moms who have done a combination of things as their lives have changed. And all of those kids know who their mom is, they love them dearly, and every one of us finds ways to make our relationships with our children the obvious priority. All of our kids feel this. They all know they are cherished. There is no one right way.
Do your thing. Accept help. Reach out. Be honest. Enjoy as much as your heart can handle, and don't feel guilty when you're bored senseless. Recognize that you can guide but you cannot control another human being, even a tiny one who needs you for everything. Rest assured that he will turn out all right.
Best of luck, and happiest of days.
With love,
Aunt Sister
Monday, May 7, 2018
Adventures With Tentacles
The other night, my day job sponsored an "end of fiscal year" celebration at Dave and Buster's.
I was one of the few who invited my wife. I'm pretty sure I was the only one who dragged along a small child.
It was fun. And Laura got lucky enough a couple of times that we were able to pick up enough points to walk away with some good swag (including a couple of spiffy novelty glasses).
We also got a little glow-in-the-dark rubber tentacle finger puppet thing. Every time Mal breaks it out, I act completely grossed out and terrified of it. He assures me that it's nice, and it's okay again until the next time.
This evening, I woke up from my knee-heating nap to hear her on the phone, engaged in some sort of serious conversation, and Mal demanding that she count for him.
So I shouted out that I'd do the counting and dived in to try to give her a breather.
We spent a while playing "scare and seek." Which is basically hide and seek, except that suppose the hider is supposed to leap out and scare whoever's "it." Something along those lines.
I'm not very good at it. I just hid until Mal tracked down Laura to ask for help finding me. The first time, she might have helped a little. Or maybe just encouraged him enough to convince him to put some effort into looking). The second...he wound up sitting outside with her for long enough that I just gave up on it and move to the recliner in the living room and broke out my phone to check the news.
He decided he was ready to move on to running races. Which basically amounts to lining up in a single file (we take turns in the poll position) and chasing each other in circles around the house. Eventually, we wind up in his room, with Mal proclaiming the he won.
I spent about 45 minutes doing this Friday or Saturday night, while Laura got some alone time. It was long enough that my ankles are still sore, but it was great exercise that the rest of my body desperately needs.
Tonight, I'm sore enough that I couldn't.
So Mal decided to just join me in the recliner.
He played a "game" that starts with cleaning Pepa Pig's teeth using a variety of dentist implements. He's already fixed hers, so he's unlocked Rebecca Rabbit's, which are much nastier. He always gives up as he's getting close to the end of hers, so he hasn't unlocked Emily Elephant yet.
Today, I messed with his ear with that tentacle thing from D&B while he told me that he couldn't and needed help.
I finally told him that he totally could, but didn't have to. It's a game, so he should stop playing if it isn't fun. He jumped right over to "What's a tentacle?"
I tried to explain it, then came up with the brilliant idea of showing him videos. So I googled for "tentacle."
For the sake of your sanity and whatever innocence you may have left, never make that mistake. Luckily for the sake of my illiterate child, the results didn't come back with pictures.
Searching for "octopus tentacle" returned results that were safe enough that I felt comfortable switching over to focus on videos.
We watched a couple of those. I don't think he was impressed enough by the ability to squeeze your entire body through a hole the size of your beak.
Fun fact: the real plural for octopus is "octopuses." A bunch of academic snobs managed to foist "octopi" on us a couple of hundred (or so) years ago. But that's Latin. Since the roots are Greek, the "proper" plural would be octopodes.
I don't think Mal appreciated the subtleties of these distinctions.
He got bored with the octopus video (it was too long, and the predation didn't have enough cheesy dialog), so we moved on to one about the skin of squids. I thought it looked fascinating, but he wasn't interested.
So we watched one about jellyfish for a bit. He proclaimed that they're "bad." I tried to explain that we should stay far away, but they aren't really "bad." That's another distinction that's lost on him. I probably should have just agreed, but I don't want to be one of those parents who tells their kids something's bad just because it can hurt you a bit.
Somehow, that led to a video about "the glass couldn't contain it."
It was a long video, but it was Mal's speed. Because it was basically a sequence of 3 second clips of predators in zoos trying to what they do. Except for the glass.
I think the scariest one was a polar bear in a swimming pool. There was a kid about Mal's age crouched down just below the water line. The kid stood up, popping his head above water, and the bear struck. You could see its jaws clamping down.
Mal thought the entire thing was hysterically funny.
He got bored when the pace slowed down and they switched to discussions about this time a bear (grizzly? it looks to big to be anything else) managed to splinter the glass, but it looks like it didn't actually break through. One of the witnesses commented about how the bear was a clown that had been playing with the rock for a long time.
He made me go back to the beginning so we could watch the first 12 minutes (or so) again.
The second time through, he allowed us to keep going. They showed a segment of a gorilla charging the glass and managing to make it spider web. They showed that segment over and over.
I'm not sure where they were going (the volume was way down). We moved on to playing Mal's "I don't know" game.
Laura wrapped up her conversation by describing that, then rejoined us before I could show him what that gorilla had really done to that plate glass. I think her conversation up to that point revolved around dysfunctional relationships and the difficulty of finding a good man.
I'm pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with the tentacle videos.
Honest, sweetheart. That's why that's why such an awful thing is in my search history.
I was one of the few who invited my wife. I'm pretty sure I was the only one who dragged along a small child.
It was fun. And Laura got lucky enough a couple of times that we were able to pick up enough points to walk away with some good swag (including a couple of spiffy novelty glasses).
We also got a little glow-in-the-dark rubber tentacle finger puppet thing. Every time Mal breaks it out, I act completely grossed out and terrified of it. He assures me that it's nice, and it's okay again until the next time.
This evening, I woke up from my knee-heating nap to hear her on the phone, engaged in some sort of serious conversation, and Mal demanding that she count for him.
So I shouted out that I'd do the counting and dived in to try to give her a breather.
We spent a while playing "scare and seek." Which is basically hide and seek, except that suppose the hider is supposed to leap out and scare whoever's "it." Something along those lines.
I'm not very good at it. I just hid until Mal tracked down Laura to ask for help finding me. The first time, she might have helped a little. Or maybe just encouraged him enough to convince him to put some effort into looking). The second...he wound up sitting outside with her for long enough that I just gave up on it and move to the recliner in the living room and broke out my phone to check the news.
He decided he was ready to move on to running races. Which basically amounts to lining up in a single file (we take turns in the poll position) and chasing each other in circles around the house. Eventually, we wind up in his room, with Mal proclaiming the he won.
I spent about 45 minutes doing this Friday or Saturday night, while Laura got some alone time. It was long enough that my ankles are still sore, but it was great exercise that the rest of my body desperately needs.
Tonight, I'm sore enough that I couldn't.
So Mal decided to just join me in the recliner.
He played a "game" that starts with cleaning Pepa Pig's teeth using a variety of dentist implements. He's already fixed hers, so he's unlocked Rebecca Rabbit's, which are much nastier. He always gives up as he's getting close to the end of hers, so he hasn't unlocked Emily Elephant yet.
Today, I messed with his ear with that tentacle thing from D&B while he told me that he couldn't and needed help.
I finally told him that he totally could, but didn't have to. It's a game, so he should stop playing if it isn't fun. He jumped right over to "What's a tentacle?"
I tried to explain it, then came up with the brilliant idea of showing him videos. So I googled for "tentacle."
For the sake of your sanity and whatever innocence you may have left, never make that mistake. Luckily for the sake of my illiterate child, the results didn't come back with pictures.
Searching for "octopus tentacle" returned results that were safe enough that I felt comfortable switching over to focus on videos.
We watched a couple of those. I don't think he was impressed enough by the ability to squeeze your entire body through a hole the size of your beak.
Fun fact: the real plural for octopus is "octopuses." A bunch of academic snobs managed to foist "octopi" on us a couple of hundred (or so) years ago. But that's Latin. Since the roots are Greek, the "proper" plural would be octopodes.
I don't think Mal appreciated the subtleties of these distinctions.
He got bored with the octopus video (it was too long, and the predation didn't have enough cheesy dialog), so we moved on to one about the skin of squids. I thought it looked fascinating, but he wasn't interested.
So we watched one about jellyfish for a bit. He proclaimed that they're "bad." I tried to explain that we should stay far away, but they aren't really "bad." That's another distinction that's lost on him. I probably should have just agreed, but I don't want to be one of those parents who tells their kids something's bad just because it can hurt you a bit.
Somehow, that led to a video about "the glass couldn't contain it."
It was a long video, but it was Mal's speed. Because it was basically a sequence of 3 second clips of predators in zoos trying to what they do. Except for the glass.
I think the scariest one was a polar bear in a swimming pool. There was a kid about Mal's age crouched down just below the water line. The kid stood up, popping his head above water, and the bear struck. You could see its jaws clamping down.
Mal thought the entire thing was hysterically funny.
He got bored when the pace slowed down and they switched to discussions about this time a bear (grizzly? it looks to big to be anything else) managed to splinter the glass, but it looks like it didn't actually break through. One of the witnesses commented about how the bear was a clown that had been playing with the rock for a long time.
He made me go back to the beginning so we could watch the first 12 minutes (or so) again.
The second time through, he allowed us to keep going. They showed a segment of a gorilla charging the glass and managing to make it spider web. They showed that segment over and over.
I'm not sure where they were going (the volume was way down). We moved on to playing Mal's "I don't know" game.
Laura wrapped up her conversation by describing that, then rejoined us before I could show him what that gorilla had really done to that plate glass. I think her conversation up to that point revolved around dysfunctional relationships and the difficulty of finding a good man.
I'm pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with the tentacle videos.
Honest, sweetheart. That's why that's why such an awful thing is in my search history.
A Decades-Old Google SNAFU and How I got Around It
Back in 2007ish, we decided to set up an email account for D, who was wanting to start blogging and chatting with cousins. Although I've stayed with Hotmail (now Outlook), probably indicating that I'm old but really because I think it looks cleaner, we picked Gmail for D.
A few easy steps later, and we had an account in D's name...
Unfortunately, there was an unforeseen problem in that I was logged into YouTube in the same browser, and did not realize that meant my YouTube account would be connected to D's email account. When I went about trying to figure out how to separate them, the answer was, and still is, "You can't."
So we set up a different email address for the child, and for the past ten years, I've used Google Hangouts, Photos, Blogger, YouTube, etc. under my own name as the nickname, but with the address d*****.***@gmail.com.
Several times in the past, I've looked into separating all of my accounts from that email address, and it's never been possible. However, D's almost an adult, and is very conscientious of any online presence under a real-world name (or facial recognition, which is why you will almost never see pictures online anymore; I take a few here and there, but never post them out of respect for D's wishes). So I decided to try again.
And, again, the big answer is "you can't."
But there are some smaller answers.
There is one service I read about where you create a new Gmail address and it will move everything from all of your Google accounts over to the new one (and, by Google's count, I was using my identity for 41 products, so that's a load). I decided to try that one out, and they gave me an estimate of $70 to transfer 116ish GB of data, and said all of it should take about 28 hours.
This sounded promising, but while I waited for the data plan on my new account to kick in, I did some more research.
The first thing I found was Google Takeout. This is a free data download facilitated by Google itself, similar to the "download my data" feature Facebook has. I signed up for that, and it created 79 2GB packets for me to download. That seemed hugely cumbersome. I looked in my computer and saw I had about 65 GB unused memory, so instead had it bundle the data into 3 50GB packets, which we ended up downloading on James's hardwired desktop, where each download took only about an hour.
Those downloads actually only included my Google Photos, because while we were waiting for everything to be organized and a download link sent, I did some more research and was able to move many things I cared about much more simply than downloading and uploading.
For ease's sake, I'm going to call the old account AB and the new destination account YZ.
1) Blogger.
AB added YZ as an author to the blog, along with James. Then we made YZ the owner, and YZ booted AB. Boom. Complete blog left intact with zero down/up.
2) Drive
I only had about 500 files here, so it was easiest just to download the files and upload them to the new account. I'll have to have my sister re-share with me (YZ) a map, but that's the only thing I'm missing.
3) YouTube
This one is a little convoluted. You can change your personal YouTube channel to a brand instead. I guess maybe in case you realized you were doing a lot of promotion and wanted to keep your personal YouTube channel separate? Anyway, I changed my channel from AB's personal channel to Gatannah Files, which is somehow considered a brand now because I said so. Then AB added YZ as an owner. You have to wait 24 hours after adding a new owner to make that person the primary owner of the channel, so the next day, I did that. YZ then deleted AB from the channel.
4) Photos
YES, friends. This calls for an announced Angel singing sound effect!
I had right at 55,000 pictures in Photos, so even though they zip the files to send you your data, there's not a lot you can do to .jpgs to make them much smaller. This was A LOT of stuff.
You can add a "partner" to your Photos account. So AB made YZ a partner for the whole shebang. My concern was that, although I could see the pictures in YZ's Photos account now, what would happen when AB disappeared?
Well, there is actually a handy button that allows you to save your partner's photos to your account. You can either choose, say, "Save all pictures of Mal" or you can keep the filter clear and IT WILL SAVE ALL OF YOUR PARTNER'S PICTURES TO YOUR ACCOUNT.
It took well over 36 hours, but finally all of AB's pictures saved to YZ's account, and Google did all of the heavy lifting because they just copied them to a different cloud, or corner of the cloud, or whatever. No down/up action on my part.
I'm still glad we downloaded the data because we can make redundant copies onto my external hard drive once I locate it (found the Mac-formatted one, of course; can't find the Windows one). Also, it helped me be less nervous about actually cutting the cord.
So after all of the photos saved, I first tested it by going back into AB's account and removing YZ as a partner. By this token, any pictures not saved to YZ's account (and therefore anything I might take in the future) would no longer be visible to YZ. BUT ALL OF THE PICTURES WERE STILL THERE!
These 4 were my main concerns. After they were squared away, I finally -- FINALLY -- deleted that infernal thorn-in-my-side email identity for good!
And now I can just waste my time watching TV online again.
Feels good to be free!
A few easy steps later, and we had an account in D's name...
Unfortunately, there was an unforeseen problem in that I was logged into YouTube in the same browser, and did not realize that meant my YouTube account would be connected to D's email account. When I went about trying to figure out how to separate them, the answer was, and still is, "You can't."
So we set up a different email address for the child, and for the past ten years, I've used Google Hangouts, Photos, Blogger, YouTube, etc. under my own name as the nickname, but with the address d*****.***@gmail.com.
Several times in the past, I've looked into separating all of my accounts from that email address, and it's never been possible. However, D's almost an adult, and is very conscientious of any online presence under a real-world name (or facial recognition, which is why you will almost never see pictures online anymore; I take a few here and there, but never post them out of respect for D's wishes). So I decided to try again.
And, again, the big answer is "you can't."
But there are some smaller answers.
There is one service I read about where you create a new Gmail address and it will move everything from all of your Google accounts over to the new one (and, by Google's count, I was using my identity for 41 products, so that's a load). I decided to try that one out, and they gave me an estimate of $70 to transfer 116ish GB of data, and said all of it should take about 28 hours.
This sounded promising, but while I waited for the data plan on my new account to kick in, I did some more research.
The first thing I found was Google Takeout. This is a free data download facilitated by Google itself, similar to the "download my data" feature Facebook has. I signed up for that, and it created 79 2GB packets for me to download. That seemed hugely cumbersome. I looked in my computer and saw I had about 65 GB unused memory, so instead had it bundle the data into 3 50GB packets, which we ended up downloading on James's hardwired desktop, where each download took only about an hour.
Those downloads actually only included my Google Photos, because while we were waiting for everything to be organized and a download link sent, I did some more research and was able to move many things I cared about much more simply than downloading and uploading.
For ease's sake, I'm going to call the old account AB and the new destination account YZ.
1) Blogger.
AB added YZ as an author to the blog, along with James. Then we made YZ the owner, and YZ booted AB. Boom. Complete blog left intact with zero down/up.
2) Drive
I only had about 500 files here, so it was easiest just to download the files and upload them to the new account. I'll have to have my sister re-share with me (YZ) a map, but that's the only thing I'm missing.
3) YouTube
This one is a little convoluted. You can change your personal YouTube channel to a brand instead. I guess maybe in case you realized you were doing a lot of promotion and wanted to keep your personal YouTube channel separate? Anyway, I changed my channel from AB's personal channel to Gatannah Files, which is somehow considered a brand now because I said so. Then AB added YZ as an owner. You have to wait 24 hours after adding a new owner to make that person the primary owner of the channel, so the next day, I did that. YZ then deleted AB from the channel.
4) Photos
YES, friends. This calls for an announced Angel singing sound effect!
I had right at 55,000 pictures in Photos, so even though they zip the files to send you your data, there's not a lot you can do to .jpgs to make them much smaller. This was A LOT of stuff.
You can add a "partner" to your Photos account. So AB made YZ a partner for the whole shebang. My concern was that, although I could see the pictures in YZ's Photos account now, what would happen when AB disappeared?
Well, there is actually a handy button that allows you to save your partner's photos to your account. You can either choose, say, "Save all pictures of Mal" or you can keep the filter clear and IT WILL SAVE ALL OF YOUR PARTNER'S PICTURES TO YOUR ACCOUNT.
It took well over 36 hours, but finally all of AB's pictures saved to YZ's account, and Google did all of the heavy lifting because they just copied them to a different cloud, or corner of the cloud, or whatever. No down/up action on my part.
I'm still glad we downloaded the data because we can make redundant copies onto my external hard drive once I locate it (found the Mac-formatted one, of course; can't find the Windows one). Also, it helped me be less nervous about actually cutting the cord.
So after all of the photos saved, I first tested it by going back into AB's account and removing YZ as a partner. By this token, any pictures not saved to YZ's account (and therefore anything I might take in the future) would no longer be visible to YZ. BUT ALL OF THE PICTURES WERE STILL THERE!
These 4 were my main concerns. After they were squared away, I finally -- FINALLY -- deleted that infernal thorn-in-my-side email identity for good!
And now I can just waste my time watching TV online again.
Feels good to be free!
Sunday, May 6, 2018
Our Sunday
This morning, Mal woke up asking to go to Target. I told him we would, but only on the condition that he agreed we'd look at the toys but not buy any. "We can look AND play," he informed me. "Yes," I agreed. "Look and play with the toys, but we're not buying any today."
Not that it's incredibly relevant, but on Wednesday, we went to Toys R Us to see how their closing liquidation was going, and they had a Vampirina play set he'd really wanted for some time on sale 25% off, which was a huge improvement over the paltry 10% from the week and a half before when we'd gone in. It's a big one, and they only had two left, so we bought it. Then yesterday, we'd gone to Target and had gotten three (more) Disney Cars for him to add to his collection. So he's cleaned up this week.
We went to Super Donut on the way, I got a lemon kolache and a maple bar, both were amazing, but Mal only ate his sprinkle doughnut and decided to bring the chocolate doughnut holes home to Daddy because he was READY to go to Target.
When we got there, he immediately picked out three Cars that he wanted to get. I reminded him gently that I wasn't going to buy toys for him today. He said, "Mommy, don't talk and don't move your head." I was quiet until he asked for help looking at another car, when I said, "You can look at it, but we're not going to buy it." Very calmly, Mal said, "Don't talk or I'll have to kill you."
He was sitting in the basket of the cart holding these cars, and I suggested we go to other aisles and look at other toys. While I did, he said, "Daddy told me it was okay to buy these cars." Like about 8 times. I said, "You don't seem interested in looking at other toys, so let's just go get our groceries." As we walked past the Cars aisle, I asked, "Do you want to put the cars back now, or hold them until we get up front, then the cashier will have to put them away?" He elected to hold on to them.
I picked up a few groceries and we got in line. Mal was holding the cars close, saying, "I'm a super hero, and I'm protecting my cars!" I again gently reminded him, "You can hold on to them for about 3 more minutes, then we have to give them back." He said, "Pew, pew, pew, Mommy; you're dead!"
After I checked out, I leaned into Mal and said, "I need you to give me these so we can leave them here." He was so so sad, but just let them go and started crying. He said, "Now no one can ever play with Disney Cars!"
Walking out to the car, he said, "I don't understand why we have money for groceries but not money for toys!" Ahh, the eternal conflict. I tried to explain that we have to eat, and we have to budget for food so we can live, and also that we'd spent a LOT of money on toys this week. He cried most of the way home.
When we got back, we were talking and he said, "I had the cars, but you STOLED them from me!" He was so sad for about an hour, then we got distracted by reading books. He actually picked out "Red Hat, Blue Hat" by Sandra Boynton, and read it to me first. He announced, "'Red Hat, Blue Hat' by Sandra Boynton." It was so cool! I remember reading when D was a child that it was important to read the author's name after the title, just so they'd realize that humans produce books. Anyway, he "read" the picture book mostly correctly, though he skipped the next-to-last page, then asked me to read to him. We went through most of our Boynton collection before James got home and we'd started in on The Cube Game.
Now... before I go on, I want to mention two things: It's taken YEARS, but more, when Mal has times of pushing back against limits to his autonomy (i.e. he would have gotten those toys under his own volition), although I sometimes am worn out, I am genuinely not frustrated or angry. I can empathize, because I've chosen to.
Also, some people would find the "threats" and talk of death horrifying, but Mal has only cartoon context for what "death" is, and clearly no violent intent, as he physically wilted, surrendering the toys when I asked, although maintaining his verbal dissent. I think this is actually quite mature. He will, of course, learn in time that threats aren't the ideal way to handle disappointment, but today, I think we both did okay. And I did laugh, hopefully mostly internally, at many of the things he said in trying to persuade me to come around to his way of thinking.
We ended up having a fun rest of the day. James and Mal walked down to the park while I helped a little girl who'd had a bike wreck across from our side yard, then I joined them for a while. It was a gorgeous day, and the lake was packed.
One more funny thing Mal said: Tonight, I was putting on his nighttime diaper, a thing he hates (ironically, he also hates using the actual restroom right now, too; we're going on three days with no business and I think I'm going to have to slip a softener in his drink tomorrow, so when he finally does go, it's not horrifying and painful). James was standing there watching us, and Mal said, "Daddy! Get this woman off of me!"
Not that it's incredibly relevant, but on Wednesday, we went to Toys R Us to see how their closing liquidation was going, and they had a Vampirina play set he'd really wanted for some time on sale 25% off, which was a huge improvement over the paltry 10% from the week and a half before when we'd gone in. It's a big one, and they only had two left, so we bought it. Then yesterday, we'd gone to Target and had gotten three (more) Disney Cars for him to add to his collection. So he's cleaned up this week.
We went to Super Donut on the way, I got a lemon kolache and a maple bar, both were amazing, but Mal only ate his sprinkle doughnut and decided to bring the chocolate doughnut holes home to Daddy because he was READY to go to Target.
When we got there, he immediately picked out three Cars that he wanted to get. I reminded him gently that I wasn't going to buy toys for him today. He said, "Mommy, don't talk and don't move your head." I was quiet until he asked for help looking at another car, when I said, "You can look at it, but we're not going to buy it." Very calmly, Mal said, "Don't talk or I'll have to kill you."
He was sitting in the basket of the cart holding these cars, and I suggested we go to other aisles and look at other toys. While I did, he said, "Daddy told me it was okay to buy these cars." Like about 8 times. I said, "You don't seem interested in looking at other toys, so let's just go get our groceries." As we walked past the Cars aisle, I asked, "Do you want to put the cars back now, or hold them until we get up front, then the cashier will have to put them away?" He elected to hold on to them.
I picked up a few groceries and we got in line. Mal was holding the cars close, saying, "I'm a super hero, and I'm protecting my cars!" I again gently reminded him, "You can hold on to them for about 3 more minutes, then we have to give them back." He said, "Pew, pew, pew, Mommy; you're dead!"
After I checked out, I leaned into Mal and said, "I need you to give me these so we can leave them here." He was so so sad, but just let them go and started crying. He said, "Now no one can ever play with Disney Cars!"
Walking out to the car, he said, "I don't understand why we have money for groceries but not money for toys!" Ahh, the eternal conflict. I tried to explain that we have to eat, and we have to budget for food so we can live, and also that we'd spent a LOT of money on toys this week. He cried most of the way home.
When we got back, we were talking and he said, "I had the cars, but you STOLED them from me!" He was so sad for about an hour, then we got distracted by reading books. He actually picked out "Red Hat, Blue Hat" by Sandra Boynton, and read it to me first. He announced, "'Red Hat, Blue Hat' by Sandra Boynton." It was so cool! I remember reading when D was a child that it was important to read the author's name after the title, just so they'd realize that humans produce books. Anyway, he "read" the picture book mostly correctly, though he skipped the next-to-last page, then asked me to read to him. We went through most of our Boynton collection before James got home and we'd started in on The Cube Game.
Now... before I go on, I want to mention two things: It's taken YEARS, but more, when Mal has times of pushing back against limits to his autonomy (i.e. he would have gotten those toys under his own volition), although I sometimes am worn out, I am genuinely not frustrated or angry. I can empathize, because I've chosen to.
Also, some people would find the "threats" and talk of death horrifying, but Mal has only cartoon context for what "death" is, and clearly no violent intent, as he physically wilted, surrendering the toys when I asked, although maintaining his verbal dissent. I think this is actually quite mature. He will, of course, learn in time that threats aren't the ideal way to handle disappointment, but today, I think we both did okay. And I did laugh, hopefully mostly internally, at many of the things he said in trying to persuade me to come around to his way of thinking.
We ended up having a fun rest of the day. James and Mal walked down to the park while I helped a little girl who'd had a bike wreck across from our side yard, then I joined them for a while. It was a gorgeous day, and the lake was packed.
 |
| Concentrating mightily on the climb. |
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
Stupid Things I Did to Change My Body, Entry 1
Laura Hattaway
Monday, May 14, 2012 at 12:25pm CDT
Last night, I bought these vouchers for laser lipo, so we'll see what that is. Whether it works or not, it's an experience.
James Ashley
Monday, May 14, 2012 at 12:27pm CDT
Sometimes, just having an experience is a victory.
Laura Hattaway
Monday, May 14, 2012 at 12:27pm CDT
Right.
In March 2012, I had been living in an RV for just under a year. I was working 3.5 days a week, bringing in about $9000 a year. Child support paid for D's gymnastics. I could mostly cover rent and utilities. But I was taking about $100-300 a month out of the savings from having sold our house in order to cover expenses like groceries and entertainment.
Yet I had spent close to $500 on what was billed as 80 percent off of three or four treatments of this thing where they focus lasers on "problem areas" of your body and in 15 minutes, it's supposed to break down adipose tissue that will then be absorbed by your body and flushed out.
I KNOW HOW STUPID THIS SOUNDS.
It even sounded stupid then. Not to mention that I did not have the funds to spend on this kind of thing. But I was trying so hard to make a relationship "take" and all I knew was that other men responded well to my having a smaller body that was shaped a specific way, and figured this couldn't hurt my chances with this other guy.
I was so embarrassed about the whole thing that I never told anyone. Except for James.
Not even my sister, whose house I would visit so D could stay with them while I went in for the treatment. I think I told them I was doing a series of mystery shops. Because, what the heck was I doing?
Incidentally, this guy and I were not a good match, and we both dodged bullets in our not being able to make things work. We were both in the same situation, having been soundly rejected by the people who had vowed to love us for our entire lives, and when you live in that for years, someone being nice to you who is also fun to be around feels like The Answer. It was not.
And this was not.
But I believed then, as much as I would have told you that I did not, that if I were just a little smaller, I'd be more worthy of love. Now I know better. And I still wish I had that money (and those hours) back.
Monday, May 14, 2012 at 12:25pm CDT
Last night, I bought these vouchers for laser lipo, so we'll see what that is. Whether it works or not, it's an experience.
James Ashley
Monday, May 14, 2012 at 12:27pm CDT
Sometimes, just having an experience is a victory.
Laura Hattaway
Monday, May 14, 2012 at 12:27pm CDT
Right.
In March 2012, I had been living in an RV for just under a year. I was working 3.5 days a week, bringing in about $9000 a year. Child support paid for D's gymnastics. I could mostly cover rent and utilities. But I was taking about $100-300 a month out of the savings from having sold our house in order to cover expenses like groceries and entertainment.
Yet I had spent close to $500 on what was billed as 80 percent off of three or four treatments of this thing where they focus lasers on "problem areas" of your body and in 15 minutes, it's supposed to break down adipose tissue that will then be absorbed by your body and flushed out.
I KNOW HOW STUPID THIS SOUNDS.
It even sounded stupid then. Not to mention that I did not have the funds to spend on this kind of thing. But I was trying so hard to make a relationship "take" and all I knew was that other men responded well to my having a smaller body that was shaped a specific way, and figured this couldn't hurt my chances with this other guy.
I was so embarrassed about the whole thing that I never told anyone. Except for James.
Not even my sister, whose house I would visit so D could stay with them while I went in for the treatment. I think I told them I was doing a series of mystery shops. Because, what the heck was I doing?
Incidentally, this guy and I were not a good match, and we both dodged bullets in our not being able to make things work. We were both in the same situation, having been soundly rejected by the people who had vowed to love us for our entire lives, and when you live in that for years, someone being nice to you who is also fun to be around feels like The Answer. It was not.
And this was not.
But I believed then, as much as I would have told you that I did not, that if I were just a little smaller, I'd be more worthy of love. Now I know better. And I still wish I had that money (and those hours) back.
The Subjugation of Pain
Today was fun. I mean that, actually. I was saying it sarcastically, but until it wasn't, it was.
Mal and I were playing one of his favorite new games, Scare and Seek. At one point, I'd hidden behind the laundry room door. Whenever Mal's looking for me, I "meow" to let him know when he's getting colder. I'd sounded for him just as Rudy came around the corner and meowed back to me. Mal came down the hall and said, "I heard it twice!" Rudy meowed again, and this time walked back behind the door, under my legs. Mal came around the corner and asked, "Rudy, have you seen my mom--- AAAH!" as he came face to face with me. It was pretty funny.
Later, though, we were playing Thunder Hollow Crazy Eight demolition derby. Mal rides on his little sit-on tricycle scooter, and I ride on a plasma car. Although you propel the plasma car by turning the steering wheel, to get started, I usually push off with my feet, otherwise Mal, who is totally foot-powered, gets away from me. Today, the car shot out from under me and I landed flat on my tailbone.
Have you ever injured your coccyx? Because I have. In high school. And I felt shots of pain for more than ten years after that injury, and after several months of chiropractic adjustments.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I'm pathetic right now. But the interesting part of all of this, to me, is another element of back pain.
For the past two or three months, I've been having increasingly strong sciatica down the back of my left upper leg, similar to where it was when I had a ruptured disc. In fact, I can feel in my back where the problem is. It's getting more debilitating, but I can avoid it by having my lower back well supported... Except when I'm nursing on my left side, which is how our beds are set up. Oh well. It's a work in progress.
Anyhoo, after I hurt my tailbone today, when I was sitting on the couch, I did an experiment, crossing my left leg over my right, in a position I know hurts the sciatica. I was vaguely aware of that stress, but the new injury "quieted" the previous pain in a noticeable way.
I'll be interested to see how it feels when we go to bed tonight. Don't worry. I definitely learned a few years ago to listen to my body telling me to cut out something that's hurting me. But I can do a little light experimentation, right?
Mal and I were playing one of his favorite new games, Scare and Seek. At one point, I'd hidden behind the laundry room door. Whenever Mal's looking for me, I "meow" to let him know when he's getting colder. I'd sounded for him just as Rudy came around the corner and meowed back to me. Mal came down the hall and said, "I heard it twice!" Rudy meowed again, and this time walked back behind the door, under my legs. Mal came around the corner and asked, "Rudy, have you seen my mom--- AAAH!" as he came face to face with me. It was pretty funny.
Later, though, we were playing Thunder Hollow Crazy Eight demolition derby. Mal rides on his little sit-on tricycle scooter, and I ride on a plasma car. Although you propel the plasma car by turning the steering wheel, to get started, I usually push off with my feet, otherwise Mal, who is totally foot-powered, gets away from me. Today, the car shot out from under me and I landed flat on my tailbone.
Have you ever injured your coccyx? Because I have. In high school. And I felt shots of pain for more than ten years after that injury, and after several months of chiropractic adjustments.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I'm pathetic right now. But the interesting part of all of this, to me, is another element of back pain.
For the past two or three months, I've been having increasingly strong sciatica down the back of my left upper leg, similar to where it was when I had a ruptured disc. In fact, I can feel in my back where the problem is. It's getting more debilitating, but I can avoid it by having my lower back well supported... Except when I'm nursing on my left side, which is how our beds are set up. Oh well. It's a work in progress.
Anyhoo, after I hurt my tailbone today, when I was sitting on the couch, I did an experiment, crossing my left leg over my right, in a position I know hurts the sciatica. I was vaguely aware of that stress, but the new injury "quieted" the previous pain in a noticeable way.
I'll be interested to see how it feels when we go to bed tonight. Don't worry. I definitely learned a few years ago to listen to my body telling me to cut out something that's hurting me. But I can do a little light experimentation, right?
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