Friday, December 20, 2013

Just had to get it out

At first I thought, why I am writing this?  I don't have all the facts or any direct quotes to back up my argument.  Then I remembered that I can write whatever the hell I want and you can read it, run it through your own personal opinion filter and take away what you will.

I have never been a big fan of the whole Hollywood/Celebrity scene.  I honestly think it is, as a whole, ridiculous.  As a culture we give a few select people far too much credit, far too much money and far too much control just for being famous.  Adults and children idolize completely made up ideas about who these people actually are and are quick to hand over hard earned money for so and so's new perfume or shoes just because it has their name on it.  We allow celebrities to "get away" with so much more than we would ever deem appropriate from our friends, relatives or neighbors.  In fact, we actually give them more money to be complete assholes!

Now I'm not saying that all famous people are douche bags who do nothing but exploit the general public and think they hung the moon, but some are.  And the one I want to address for a moment is Mr. Kanye West.  Let me start off by saying that I know nothing about him other than newsworthy tidbits I have heard over the years.  How he took the mic away from a young woman accepting a well deserved award, how he has a hard time fitting through doorways with his hugely inflated head and the most recent gem, and the reason for my post today, that he thinks that his relationship with Kim Kardashian and the Kardasian women as a whole have helped pave the way for mixed race couples.

Are you absolutely fucking kidding me!?

Yeah, you paved the way for mixed race couples just as I'm sure you invented rap music, were an integral part of the equal rights movement and are the reason that the sun comes up each morning.  Get over yourself, Mr. West.  What an ignorant, disrespectful, bull shit thing to say.  Mr. West, people far less "special" than yourself spent years upon painful years enduring violence, hate and discrimination just so that you and a reality star girlfriend could even been seen in public together.  Mixed race couples were spit on, beaten, verbally abused and run out of town all for being in love and you have the audacity to think that just because a few reality TV stars dated African American men and you so happened to impregnate one of them that you had something to do with the freedom of interracial relationships?

You, Mr. West are a big part of what I dislike about celebrity.  You feel far too entitled for someone who hasn't done much aside from making a few mediocre rap records and cashing in on your "love" life.  And the thing that really pissed me off ?  Just like millions of other Americans, I know your name, I know your face,  but I don't know the names or faces of the brave souls who actually fought long and hard for their rights, for your rights!

And they did it out of love, true love.  I don't know your heart, Mr. West, but I have a feeling that if you and Kim Kardasian were being spit at in public, harassed in your homes and verbally assaulted each time you stepped out that you wouldn't have made it past the first date.  I have a feeling you wouldn't have stood up for your love.  I have a feeling that you wouldn't have stood up for your rights.  It's really easy to say that you are making a difference when millions of people and the law are on your side, but I can't help but wonder where you would have stood on the issue 50 years ago as an ordinary man who loved a woman.


Thursday, December 12, 2013

Smash everything!

*I wrote this when I was about 6/7 weeks along and drowning in a sea of hormones.

Some women get morning sickness, others hemorrhoids, and other still suffer from a variety of pregnancy related symptoms.  I for one came down with a strange but serious symptom called hatred, yes, hatred.  For the first two months of my pregnancy, and every so often still, I hated everything!  Yep, I hate that too.  I was so filled with hate that I wanted to act out like a tantruming toddler, to stomp my foot, to scream and yell, to throw ALL THE BOOKS.  I wanted to hit people with my car, seriously.  I often wanted to physically hurt Ryan for no good reason other than he wasn't infected with the hate I had pulsing through me.  I was possessed!  I had no filter!

The smallest thing would set me off and suddenly all I could think about was bashing every single appliance in my house Office Space style with a giant wooden bat.  Oh my god it would have felt amazing to just beat the shit out of something on those days.  Even just imagining it now feels good.  And imagine it is pretty much all I did then too.  Even with hormone hate ripping through my veins I am a fairly peaceful sort.  I spent a lot of time taking deep breaths, separating myself from human contact to regain logical thought, and looking in the mirror to make sure my head hadn't actually started spinning or sprouting horns.

We made it through the worst of it relatively unscathed and for the most part the hate has left my body.   Because I never really had any pregnancy symptoms with Caches, this one in particular took me by surprise.  But after sharing my experience with others, I have discovered that other women come down the a similar case.  I blame hormones, I blame them for everything.  I am still moody at times, but let's be real here, pregnant or not I tend to be moody; It is part of my charm.


Monday, December 9, 2013

A letter

Dear mothers of small children,

I want to tell you something.  Something important that not many other people would tell you.  Something that I myself wish another young mother told me.  It is something that a lot of us moms lie about every. single. day.  Listen up...

Having small children is hard, sometimes really, really hard.  Especially if it is your first child and you don't know what you are doing.  There is a learning curve.  It is an emotional roller coaster.  You will cry.  You will want to run away.  You might even follow through.  You will be tired.  You will be frustrated.  There will be days when you won't even recognize yourself in the mirror.  That is if you even get a moment to check.

You will struggle.  You will fail.  You will yell.  You will crack.  You will say things you wish you hadn't said.   Not because you are a bad mother, and not because you are doing it wrong.  Not even because there is something wrong with you, your child, your husband or your certifiably insane French Bulldog.  You will struggle because it is hard.  It is REALLY FUCKING HARD!

You will try to tell yourself that simply being a mother should leave you feeling fulfilled and joyous.  That your heart should be overflowing each and every day from the love of your child.  You will feel guilty because it's not.  You will feel guilty because you will feel bored, resentful and exhausted.  You will feel guilty because you aren't enjoying every single moment like the lady at the grocery store told you to.  You will feel lonely while also desperately yearning for time alone.  You will feel guilty.  Oh yes, mother of a small child, I promise you will feel guilt.

Some days you will find humor in the numerous spills, stepping on tiny toys, the endless needs, the laundry, and the array of bodily fluids that you encounter.  Other days you will in fact cry over spilt milk.  And because you stepped on a marble.  And because you got poop on your hand.   Some days you and your small child/children will work together beautifully.  There will be no tears and plenty of tender moments.  You will feel like a world famous surfer riding the waves.  Other days you and your child/children will butt heads over everything from what's for breakfast to how hot or not hot their soup should be.  You will feel as if you are drowning, gasping for air in between the waves pounding your head under water. These days will, quite frankly, SUCK.

And just so you know, I'm not telling you all of this because being a mother actually sucks, it doesn't!  It is amazing and beautiful and humbling and warm.  I'm telling you this because sometimes it does suck and that is okay too!

So much time is spent reminding mothers to enjoy their small children; It goes by so fast, don't blink!  Oh my gosh, how could you have missed that?  There are plenty of people out there willing to lie to you and tell you that it is easy.  There are also plenty of mothers who make it look easy.  Anything can look easy when you are only seeing a snapshot in time.  There are the always going to be people who are quick to remind you how lucky you are, how blessed you, how beautiful your children are and how to go about doing things the right way their way, but few and far between are people, mothers, who are willing to be vulnerable and honest about life with small children.

Perhaps they don't want to feel like they are discouraging other mothers, but more likely they themselves don't want to admit to ever having struggled.  Maybe they have older children and have forgotten how difficult it was when they were small.  It could be that they are embarrassed by things they have said or done.  Or it could simply be that they don't know what to say.

So I'm asking you, mothers of small children, to speak up.  Be honest with your friends, you don't have to be so brave.  Let them know that you have struggled too.  Let them know that they aren't alone.  I can't tell you how good it feels just to know you aren't alone!  Be a safe place for your fellow mothers to open up.  Hug them.  Offer support on days when you are surfing and empathy on days you feel like you are drowning.  Sometimes it can feel as if you are the only mother in the world who has ever had such a bad day.  Like you are the only one who can't get it right.  This simply is not true. Mothers, we all struggle.

Guilt, tears, frustration, anger, exhaustion, joy, love, laughter and warmth.  All of these things are happening because you are becoming a different person.  A person who is rarely left alone.  A person who is simultaneously overwhelmed with feelings of love and annoyance.  A person who's heart is now living and breathing outside of the protection of her own body.  A person who so badly wants control but is learning to let go.  A person who is learning to give more of herself away than she ever even knew she had.  A person who is still learning.  A person, a woman, who is becoming a mother.

And I'm willing to bet you are a damn good one too.



Tuesday, December 3, 2013

It's a...

With Caches we decided to wait and be surprised with a boy or girl when baby was born.  I am glad we did, but this time we thought it would be fun to find out before.  And by "fun" I mean I don't have time for shopping or organizing once the baby is born this time around!  I don't even have time now and the baby is still fairly agreeable and completely contained.  Basically, I am a control freak and I want to know, dammit!

We were scheduled to have our anatomy scan last week, but due to the Thanksgiving holiday they pushed it to yesterday.  Everything looks good and baby is healthy and growing as it should.  Obviously that is far more important than gender, but I was just as anxious to find that part out.  I knew the time was coming up, the doctor said he was going to look for gender.  My heart began to race as I looked at the blurred jumble that sometimes looks like a baby and other times looks like a black and white static horror film that a zombie is going to craw out of but, oh yeah, I can totally see that kidney, doctor.  He pointed tot he screen, it's a...


















Elephant!

At least that is what Caches thinks is in mommy's belly.  Oh, and we will name it Horsey Giraffe Nessier but sometimes we will let it be an alligator.  Thanks kid.

It's a...













We are so thrilled that Caches will have a baby sister, Ryan will have a daughter and I will have a whole other set of gender specific issues to possibly fuck up sort out.  It is said that when you have a boy you only have to worry about one penis, but when you have a girl you have to worry about all the penis'.  So basically I have to worry about all the penis' and then another one still!  

Seriously though, we both dreamed of having a baby girl and couldn't be happier.  Oh, and if any of you have girl hand me down clothes, accessories or advice I would be more than happy to accept all three.  

















Sunday, December 1, 2013

Officially old...

Remember being a kid and spending hours planning, organizing and executing the perfect Christmas wish list?  Okay, maybe I was the only kid who was this OCD about the whole thing, but I totally remember carefully thumbing through catalogs, no such thing as the internet folks, and marking items I wanted.  We would peruse the toy store and I'd take metal notes of things to write down, I'd play with something at a friends house and add it to my list.  The whole things was a big deal and in the end I'd have a list complete with item, location, cost and order or how badly I wanted it.

Slowly though, years passed and it became less and less of a project and more like scrambling to come up with a few things that I actually wanted at the last minute.  Honestly, and also tacky as hell, I just wanted money so I could buy things I wanted as I came across them during the year.

I am now at a point where the whole wish list seems almost wrong.  I don't "need" anything, and I honestly don't even want anything.  Well, nothing that a person would actually consider a Christmas gift.  My list would look like someones shopping list for a hippy grocery store or a flea market.  A few kitchen appliances, some vintage decor and a margarita strong enough to get me buzzed just smelling it sounds good to me.

I do look forward to Caches making a list and really, truly wanting something for a good long time only to find it under the tree.  The magic and excitement of Christmas gift giving will forever live on with our children.  His little face, I can't wait to see his little face.

*not this year though.  He is still more interested in unwrapping and playing with boxes than he is with actual gifts.  Which is why Ryan and I bought him nothing, yep, nothing.  Oh call CPS on me, the kid has grandparents and I just bought him new underwear yesterday.

Ho, Ho, Ho