If you have never experienced the joy of pregnancy I am going to give you a quick look at the looniness of cravings. First, please note that every woman is different so many suffer much worse than me & crave things like actual dirt so I am very thankful that mine are all actual food items ... so far. Also many woman probably fair much better than me & eat healthfully while ignoring the tug from crappy food - those blessed women obviously don't suffer from the bizarre nausea that only allows you to eat a few things & makes you gag on water. WATER people, I have to force chug water down.
So anyway, it's a very strange world. I assumed with my first pregnancy that I would turn into a ravenous badger than devoured any food that was left lying around unprotected but oddly I find my appetite is a little subdued. It could be the nausea, it could be the random chemistry of my genetics, it could be the baby begging to not be born to a land whale. Who knows? But I crave & just as strongly, I am repulsed by some foods. If you fry onions near me while I'm pregnant I will bean you upside the head but only after I have covered my nose & mouth & I'll bean you quickly because then I'll be running outside to the beauty of fresh air.
The weirdest cravings are the ones that sound absolutely disgusting at first, then it stays in my brain & grows & grows until I have to have whatever it is. Two people recently online have mentioned hotdogs. Even in my non-pregnant life, I am generally repulsed by hotdogs so when I saw the pictures of these overloaded hotdogs I grimaced, probably gagged & clicked away quickly. Then my brain started chugging away - how could they eat that crap? And what the hell was on those things? Was that cheese on that chili dog? Maybe a little fresh diced onion? Or what about that other one - was it mustard? Did I see sauerkraut? OH MY GOODNESS, I HAVE TO HAVE HOTDOGS!!! But did you know that pregnant women aren't supposed to eat hotdogs? I can't remember why - something to do with something that I have long forgotten since my last pregnancy & don't care enough to look up this time. So I am scheming on what kind of veggie dogs would satisfy this craving best. And I don't know of any good veggie chili brands over here because I don't think chili is its own food group here like back in the states so I would have to make my own & I don't see that happening soon. Is it too much to request a care package of Chili Man veggie chili from my parents? Yeah, that's ridiculous. I obviously have a lot of work to do.
Luckily, I also have some easier to fill cravings like french onion dip. Great on plain potato chips, veggies, etc. so that's a good one. I am skipping cauliflower from now on though after terrible cramps the last two times I had it with the dip. I also want very plain mexican snacks like the easy old pan-fried cheese quesadillas with a bit of salsa & sour cream on the side. Heaven on a plate these days!
There are some unreasonable cravings every now & then because they are things that don't exist here. Last pregnancy I kept hankering for good southern fried chicken with honey. Yeah, I know - this pregnancy the very thought of that makes me want to spew. And I will admit that tears may have been spilled when thinking of my standard favorite of Olive Garden's eggplant parmesan with salad & breadsticks. Making my own is NOT the same. Yes, I cried over not being able to get to an Olive Garden without paying thousands & flying for a day. Can someone please get a franchise going over here - a girl needs her mass-produced Italian fix please. And DO NOT FORGET THE SALAD & BREADSTICKS. And I will eat all the black olives in the salad if you don't claim some for yourself right away.
Luckily & very surprisingly, I don't crave sweets. I keep a few things on hand so if it gets in my head that I want something sweet to balance out all the other crap then I'm good but I'm usually fine with just a brownie or a tiny fun size Snickers or something like that. I did get a vanilla cupcake mix that sounds like heaven right now but if I don't make it, there is no chance that I'll gnaw my own arm off or anything loony that could happen if I don't get any of my staples like sparkling water, which I drink like it's going out of fashion. Is it going out of fashion? Was sparkling water ever really in fashion?
So now I need to go eat something because it's lunch time. Nothing sounds good, which is my standard problem but apparently this kid in my belly needs regular nourishment - geez, what a needy little greedy guts already. In cases like these, I find it's best to just make my quesadilla. Once I have something in my belly, suddenly other things sound like a viable option too. And I will admit that about once a week, I gorge like my body needs to store up for winter & it's never healthy. It may sometimes involve McDonalds but whatever, don't judge me - it's the kid, not me.
On that note, I'm off. If you are going to Olive Garden please think of me .... & how much I hate you. Don't bother trying to send me anything from there because my mom has already tried & customs took it away (it was salad dressing, which they don't list enough detail about the ingredients apparently). At least I know if desperation comes calling that there are two bottle of Olive Garden salad dressing sitting in some customs warehouse somewhere in Sydney & with enough hard work & illegal perseverance, I could probably find them & steal them & end up in customs prison. Ahhh, the life of a pregnant lady.
31 March 2011
30 March 2011
Hairy situation
I thought of a sunshiney & rosy aspect to my pregnancy! You might remember my last pregnancy when the grease on my face & hair were so deep that fish & chip shops were eyeing me as a cheap resource to restock their oil supplies. It was the WORST. Wellll, this time SO FAR (if I say "so far" it can't curse me & bite me in the ass can it?) my hair & skin are fantastic! At this point, it's the main difference between last pregnancy & this one so I don't know what that means. But I'm enjoying my very clear skin & nice tame hair.
Well, I'm not totally enjoying my hair because I haven't had it colored or cut in eons. I am seriously shaggy & root-tastic. I am pretending that I'm one of those girls that thinks you shouldn't color your hair when you're pregnant but I'm really not, we're just broke as a joke at the moment. 2011 has thus far been a suckity suckity suck year for our finances - it seems like every time we start to catch up, suddenly a car needs servicing or registration or a council rate bill comes through or something unexpected & there is no end in sight. We may never get back on track & as you can tell by my woefulness, my hair is the hardest hit victim in this situation.
So while I put off looking human anytime soon, I am dreaming & scheming of what I shall do to my hair suit (if you don't watch 30 Rock & don't recognize that phrase, shame on you!). My original plan was just to get back to my good old blonde highlights - bright, bold & a beacon of light in my pregnancy. But as life has started handing us lemons, I have started thinking I need something stronger or just different. I bet you thought I was actually going somewhere with that lemon metaphor. So did I.
I was perusing one of my favorite websites today, gofugyourself.com - if you are interested in fashion in the slightest & love hilarious, witty writing to go along with it, do yourself a favor & visit the lovely ladies who run this site. You shan't be disappointed. So yes, I was perusing it today & found this vision of awesomeness:
First of all, Marcel is going to see my file titled Ophelia on the desktop & roll his eyes, announcing that we will not be naming any child of ours Ophelia. Then once the situation is explained I think he'll approve of the hair. It's lovely right? I need something different & my length is finally getting there. Where I am supposed to find that bounce is another story but I am willing to try. Let's face it, at the moment I look a little bit like the guy in the background so any step in the forward direction is an improvement. What say you?
Now I am going to go scream into a pillow or punch something very hard. I am really at the end of my rope with a certain son of mine. Doesn't eat, doesn't sleep at night half the time, doesn't nap, still finds ways to get his diaper off & throw poop two or three times a week even though I check on him constantly. All I want is one day of peace. I feel like all I do is scold & yell & cry my days away & I am fast approaching exhaustion. I really do not think I'm good at this mothering crap.
Well, I'm not totally enjoying my hair because I haven't had it colored or cut in eons. I am seriously shaggy & root-tastic. I am pretending that I'm one of those girls that thinks you shouldn't color your hair when you're pregnant but I'm really not, we're just broke as a joke at the moment. 2011 has thus far been a suckity suckity suck year for our finances - it seems like every time we start to catch up, suddenly a car needs servicing or registration or a council rate bill comes through or something unexpected & there is no end in sight. We may never get back on track & as you can tell by my woefulness, my hair is the hardest hit victim in this situation.
So while I put off looking human anytime soon, I am dreaming & scheming of what I shall do to my hair suit (if you don't watch 30 Rock & don't recognize that phrase, shame on you!). My original plan was just to get back to my good old blonde highlights - bright, bold & a beacon of light in my pregnancy. But as life has started handing us lemons, I have started thinking I need something stronger or just different. I bet you thought I was actually going somewhere with that lemon metaphor. So did I.
I was perusing one of my favorite websites today, gofugyourself.com - if you are interested in fashion in the slightest & love hilarious, witty writing to go along with it, do yourself a favor & visit the lovely ladies who run this site. You shan't be disappointed. So yes, I was perusing it today & found this vision of awesomeness:
 |
| Ophelia Lovibond photo from gofugyourself.com |
Now I am going to go scream into a pillow or punch something very hard. I am really at the end of my rope with a certain son of mine. Doesn't eat, doesn't sleep at night half the time, doesn't nap, still finds ways to get his diaper off & throw poop two or three times a week even though I check on him constantly. All I want is one day of peace. I feel like all I do is scold & yell & cry my days away & I am fast approaching exhaustion. I really do not think I'm good at this mothering crap.
29 March 2011
sitting still
Are you ready for more pregnancy ranting? Well, one of the more annoying parts of this pregnancy timing was it ruined my giant plan of getting in shape. We had discussed having another kid & while he pretty much dismissed it half the time, the other little bit of me said it would be okay but AFTER I work out & get in shape so pregnancy would perhaps be a bit easier, I'd be more active & yes look less moose-like. Let me tell you that these days I fear that at every check up someone is going to figure out that that little baby in there has been fashioned out of french onion dip (my current craving) by my body to keep from having to go back to the gym.
Now, I know that pregnant women can & should work out like normal & try to stay in shape but that is not possible when lifting your head off the couch makes your stomach roll. Now that the nausea is getting a bit better - still gagging, still can't handle strong smells (hello poopy diapers!) & no food settles in my stomach well - I aim to start walking with Ben since the weather should be cooling down any day now. I would love to get back to the gym to do weights but the lack of childcare means I can only go at night when Marcel's back & I'm struggling to keep my eyes open not long after we get Ben to bed so maybe I'll try to go once or twice on the weekends just for the heck of it. But I suppose I'll talk to my doctor first.
Anyway, there really isn't much else going on in our lives these days - Ben, baby, work (for Marcel), needing to buy some more french onion dip (for me), the usual. I'll try to come up with more things to talk about so it's not all doom, gloom & stories about poop making me puke but I'm trying to keep this as autobiographical as possible!
And as if on cue, I can smell Ben's full diaper so I'm off to tie a scarf around my face & do my motherly duty. Oh wait! I will tell you that last night I dreamed that we named the baby Gravy. Remind me to not do that for real. Actually, the Eisele's had a gorgeous cat named Gravy once so it violates our one rule of not using pet names for children so we should be safe. But seriously, don't let me try to use it anyway. Also don't let me try for its obvious partner Biscuit. Thank you.
Now, I know that pregnant women can & should work out like normal & try to stay in shape but that is not possible when lifting your head off the couch makes your stomach roll. Now that the nausea is getting a bit better - still gagging, still can't handle strong smells (hello poopy diapers!) & no food settles in my stomach well - I aim to start walking with Ben since the weather should be cooling down any day now. I would love to get back to the gym to do weights but the lack of childcare means I can only go at night when Marcel's back & I'm struggling to keep my eyes open not long after we get Ben to bed so maybe I'll try to go once or twice on the weekends just for the heck of it. But I suppose I'll talk to my doctor first.
Anyway, there really isn't much else going on in our lives these days - Ben, baby, work (for Marcel), needing to buy some more french onion dip (for me), the usual. I'll try to come up with more things to talk about so it's not all doom, gloom & stories about poop making me puke but I'm trying to keep this as autobiographical as possible!
And as if on cue, I can smell Ben's full diaper so I'm off to tie a scarf around my face & do my motherly duty. Oh wait! I will tell you that last night I dreamed that we named the baby Gravy. Remind me to not do that for real. Actually, the Eisele's had a gorgeous cat named Gravy once so it violates our one rule of not using pet names for children so we should be safe. But seriously, don't let me try to use it anyway. Also don't let me try for its obvious partner Biscuit. Thank you.
So yeah
My mom warned me every time I said "I really don't think we'll be having a second child" that I was going to end up pregnant any day so I better watch myself. But I ignored her so you can imagine my surprise that while suffering from a mysterious flu that zapped my energy & made me nauseous constantly, I start desperately craving egg drop soup. Seemed odd since I hadn't wanted egg drop soup since the last time I ... oh no ... was ... it can't be ... pregnant. What the what now? I had the thought for a split second but then thought I was probably just trying to steal Ilse's thunder because she was visiting. Follow my logic for a moment if you will. The last time I actually remember watching The Real World on MTV was San Diego about a gazillion years ago. I think San Diego was still the wild west & they may had to pan for gold as their petty assigned jobs? I don't know, it was ages ago but the beginning of the "let's only put good looking heavy drinkers in the house & we'll need a hot tub" stage. Anyhoo, there was one girl that was desperately after another dude in the house & his girlfriend was visiting for a weekend so the girl in the house suddenly got wicked food poisoning. Now she apparently got it from eating a burrito from a place she eats at like 2 or 3 times a week without trouble so all the housemates were saying she was just faking diarrhea to get the dude's attention from his girlfriend. I think you see why I stopped watching The Real World but the point is I found myself thinking "Surely, I'm not feeling so woozy & useless because Ilse's here & Marcel likes her better than me!" But Ilse was feeling sick & sleepy too & I just don't have a The Real World anecdote to explain that so it must have been extended jet lag. Once we discovered I was pregnant it became abundantly clear that she was suffering from sympathy pregnancy, which should have been obvious from the start.
What the hell was I talking about? Ahhh yes, the egg drop scenario. I needed to go to the mall anyway so while there I thought I may as well pick up a pregnancy test just in case. Oh, I haven't mentioned that my period was a couple weeks late have I? I've had wacky periods before so I wasn't actually concerned & I'd only had one period since I stopped breastfeeding the little engine that could so I had no idea what my cycles were like these days anyway. And oh yeah, I WAS ON THE PILL. I will backstep & point out that it was the mini-pill because I took it while breastfeeding & liked the lack of side effects. But apparently preventing pregnancy was one of those pesky side effects but I understand now that the mini-pill doesn't actually stay in your system, which is why (pay attention here ladies) you have to take the pill at the exact time every single day. That detail is not to be messed with - they didn't build in a few hours leeway for you so set your alarms.
So back at the mall (I know, can you believe this story is STILL going?) I am doing my little errands & stop by the chemist to pick up a 3-pack of pregnancy tests. I think we all know there is no use in buying a single test - you always need extra confirmation either way. My plan was just to finish shopping & go home for the testing but I for one can not function with a pregnancy test burning a hole in my bag so off I go to the land of dignity, aka the mall's public restroom. Is there ever a mall bathroom that does not have a pooper in it by the way? I finally get to the front of the line & unpack my supplies in the little stall & am humming along to Lady Gaga'sPoker Face Paparazzi. Test done, waiting for the results, still humming. Two lines appear but they only go halfway across. What? I start giggling because that's the only option & start unpacking test #2 then realize I have no pee left. Weigh my options, go get a pedicure & chug some water. With my new gorgeous coral toenails I trudge back to the bathroom where to end the longest story ever with as little excitement as possible I confirm that yes, I am pregnant. Shit.
3 months later, I am still nauseous & very sensitive to smells, still tired but am getting closer to slightly functional every day. I am puking regularly & sadly it's mostly due to the smells that come out of my lovely son but sometimes I surprise myself with random no reason puking & that's just a delight.
It hasn't all been sunshine & roses - okay, I guess I haven't mentioned anything sunshiney or rosey but I'm sure there has to have been something positive along the way. We are excited to have another kid now but are absolutely petrified at the same time - I'm nervous about having the same number of children as arms to restrain them & how the hell I'm going to leave the house with a wandering toddler & a useless newborn but I'm told you just magically figure this shit out when it happens. But seriously if you have any tips, please pass them on.
I have found that pregnancy has made me a more flamboyant mother. I have gone from the days of "Ben, if you don't get that toy off the TV/table/cat, I am going to take it away" to "Ben, if those crayons touch anything except the paper I AM GOING TO THROW THEM OFF A CLIFF!!!" or "Why is this Play-Doh on the carpet? I swear to you I am going to set it on fire!" I'm assuming when the baby is born a mystical motherly calm will be instilled in me so I can handle two twerps driving me nuts? Is that how it works?
There's other stuff going on as well that I'll go into in a few weeks when we have some answers. My big mouth or whatever the blogging equivalent is would like to just hash it all out on here but I think it's best for us to just keep plodding along on our own for now & keep our little struggle sacred for lack of a more appropriate term. Is it awful that I don't want to share our troubles & I'm really not in the mood to hear people's platitudes? Is platitudes a word? I think you just reach your limit of wonderful, well-meaning people telling you that everything is going to be fine so I'd rather just not get it started. Probably everything will actually be fine but I am a terrible person because I want to smack people sometimes & say "Ya know what, maybe it won't be okay. Maybe I'm allowed to fucking panic & stress & cry as much as I want to without you smiling at me & saying that it's in God's hands." I don't care whose hands it's in. That is irrelevant when things aren't okay. So now that I've gone overly dramatic on you, I will ask for any extra prayers you've got lying around or just some warm wishes - if I can't hear them, I can't possibly smack you can I? So you're safe. And please don't worry, we are talking about everything with our families & a couple of the kind of close friends who suffer with us instead of automatically saying it will be fine so we're not going it alone or anything, I'm just not ready for public broadcast yet. And really I'm not so sure why I'm so defensive - not one single person has given me any reason but I'm just on edge anyway these days with hormones & seriously, the crayons & Play-Doh are going to push me over some metaphorical line in the sand if they don't get thrown off a bridge, weighed down with concrete first.
I should end on a less hostile note but Ben has figured out how to climb onto ......... it is now 10 minutes later because as I was writing that first little bit, Ben fell off of the TV cabinet, whacking his head on the way down, biting his cheek & we had a little disaster on our hands. He is okay now, smiling & can't see any broken teeth - the tiny bit of blood in his mouth is gone & I'm given him some Panadol & Nurofen so hopefully he won't get too bad of a headache but I'm imagining some bruises tomorrow. Why would the universe think giving us a second child is a good idea? I wrote ikea instead of idea first so obviously my priorities are straight.
So I will end on that wonderful example of my mothering skills. I have to clean this house before it drives me insane - seriously the dust appears mere moments after I clean it up & no amount of washing dishes ever gets us to the bottom of the pile. I won't threaten to burn the house down because some day it might burn down & one of you smart-asses will point this blog out & I won't be able to get my rightfully owed insurance money. But yeah, I might beat the house with a baseball bat if it doesn't start staying clean for me.
What the hell was I talking about? Ahhh yes, the egg drop scenario. I needed to go to the mall anyway so while there I thought I may as well pick up a pregnancy test just in case. Oh, I haven't mentioned that my period was a couple weeks late have I? I've had wacky periods before so I wasn't actually concerned & I'd only had one period since I stopped breastfeeding the little engine that could so I had no idea what my cycles were like these days anyway. And oh yeah, I WAS ON THE PILL. I will backstep & point out that it was the mini-pill because I took it while breastfeeding & liked the lack of side effects. But apparently preventing pregnancy was one of those pesky side effects but I understand now that the mini-pill doesn't actually stay in your system, which is why (pay attention here ladies) you have to take the pill at the exact time every single day. That detail is not to be messed with - they didn't build in a few hours leeway for you so set your alarms.
So back at the mall (I know, can you believe this story is STILL going?) I am doing my little errands & stop by the chemist to pick up a 3-pack of pregnancy tests. I think we all know there is no use in buying a single test - you always need extra confirmation either way. My plan was just to finish shopping & go home for the testing but I for one can not function with a pregnancy test burning a hole in my bag so off I go to the land of dignity, aka the mall's public restroom. Is there ever a mall bathroom that does not have a pooper in it by the way? I finally get to the front of the line & unpack my supplies in the little stall & am humming along to Lady Gaga's
3 months later, I am still nauseous & very sensitive to smells, still tired but am getting closer to slightly functional every day. I am puking regularly & sadly it's mostly due to the smells that come out of my lovely son but sometimes I surprise myself with random no reason puking & that's just a delight.
It hasn't all been sunshine & roses - okay, I guess I haven't mentioned anything sunshiney or rosey but I'm sure there has to have been something positive along the way. We are excited to have another kid now but are absolutely petrified at the same time - I'm nervous about having the same number of children as arms to restrain them & how the hell I'm going to leave the house with a wandering toddler & a useless newborn but I'm told you just magically figure this shit out when it happens. But seriously if you have any tips, please pass them on.
I have found that pregnancy has made me a more flamboyant mother. I have gone from the days of "Ben, if you don't get that toy off the TV/table/cat, I am going to take it away" to "Ben, if those crayons touch anything except the paper I AM GOING TO THROW THEM OFF A CLIFF!!!" or "Why is this Play-Doh on the carpet? I swear to you I am going to set it on fire!" I'm assuming when the baby is born a mystical motherly calm will be instilled in me so I can handle two twerps driving me nuts? Is that how it works?
There's other stuff going on as well that I'll go into in a few weeks when we have some answers. My big mouth or whatever the blogging equivalent is would like to just hash it all out on here but I think it's best for us to just keep plodding along on our own for now & keep our little struggle sacred for lack of a more appropriate term. Is it awful that I don't want to share our troubles & I'm really not in the mood to hear people's platitudes? Is platitudes a word? I think you just reach your limit of wonderful, well-meaning people telling you that everything is going to be fine so I'd rather just not get it started. Probably everything will actually be fine but I am a terrible person because I want to smack people sometimes & say "Ya know what, maybe it won't be okay. Maybe I'm allowed to fucking panic & stress & cry as much as I want to without you smiling at me & saying that it's in God's hands." I don't care whose hands it's in. That is irrelevant when things aren't okay. So now that I've gone overly dramatic on you, I will ask for any extra prayers you've got lying around or just some warm wishes - if I can't hear them, I can't possibly smack you can I? So you're safe. And please don't worry, we are talking about everything with our families & a couple of the kind of close friends who suffer with us instead of automatically saying it will be fine so we're not going it alone or anything, I'm just not ready for public broadcast yet. And really I'm not so sure why I'm so defensive - not one single person has given me any reason but I'm just on edge anyway these days with hormones & seriously, the crayons & Play-Doh are going to push me over some metaphorical line in the sand if they don't get thrown off a bridge, weighed down with concrete first.
I should end on a less hostile note but Ben has figured out how to climb onto ......... it is now 10 minutes later because as I was writing that first little bit, Ben fell off of the TV cabinet, whacking his head on the way down, biting his cheek & we had a little disaster on our hands. He is okay now, smiling & can't see any broken teeth - the tiny bit of blood in his mouth is gone & I'm given him some Panadol & Nurofen so hopefully he won't get too bad of a headache but I'm imagining some bruises tomorrow. Why would the universe think giving us a second child is a good idea? I wrote ikea instead of idea first so obviously my priorities are straight.
So I will end on that wonderful example of my mothering skills. I have to clean this house before it drives me insane - seriously the dust appears mere moments after I clean it up & no amount of washing dishes ever gets us to the bottom of the pile. I won't threaten to burn the house down because some day it might burn down & one of you smart-asses will point this blog out & I won't be able to get my rightfully owed insurance money. But yeah, I might beat the house with a baseball bat if it doesn't start staying clean for me.
24 March 2011
Giveaway!
I know what you're thinking & you best hush your mouth! No, I do not have anything worth giving away but you didn't have to be so rude to point it out. I do have a few friends who are awesome & one of them has a gorgeous store called The Princess and The Pea www.theprincessandthepea.com.au/ that is the go to places for children's interiors in Australia if I do say so myself. The proprietor (am I using that word correctly?) is Nicole, who spent many years in Papua New Guinea with Marcel & the other Eisele's as children so she's practically family. I try to remind her of that every time I invite myself over when she's hosting glamorous events! Seriously Nicole, I'm planning on purchasing a fancy hat for the Royal Wedding gathering in the wee hours of the morning so you're going to have to officially un-invite me if you're trying to keep it exclusive.
Anyway, it's Nicole who's giving something away & it's something I've had my eye on for a while so if you win it you may find me skulking around your house complimenting it over & over in a less than subtle way, silently begging you to give it to me. Ain't it purty? AND the crazy woman is offering shipping anywhere in the world so you best be taking advantage of this, Americans!
Anyway, it's Nicole who's giving something away & it's something I've had my eye on for a while so if you win it you may find me skulking around your house complimenting it over & over in a less than subtle way, silently begging you to give it to me. Ain't it purty? AND the crazy woman is offering shipping anywhere in the world so you best be taking advantage of this, Americans!
Perfect for sitting on a table as a catch-all for whatever you need to discard after a day - jewels, money, etc. Hell, if you're leaving that stuff lying around you may find me skulking around your house even more! In any case, go to Nicole's blog & sign up as a follower - you won't regret it, she's got gorgeous things to share & a wonderful way with words to go along with them. Visit this link to find out just how easy it is to win that tray for yourself or perhaps for a particularly persuasive friend ...
I got nothing else today. My brain is mush, my son played & cried in his crib instead of napping, I ate enough lunch for the whole neighborhood & now I need to clean my kitchen & bathroom & do some laundry. So naturally I'm online trying to find something else to do but now Ben wants to play with his crayons so I'll do that instead. Yes, I got him some crayons - those giant adorable ones that withstand toddler torture. I wouldn't say he enjoys coloring so much (he seems drawn to gray, peach & white for heavens sake!) but he does enjoy rearranging the crayons repeatedly & taking them in & out of their carrying case & pretending to count them. Lord love him, he may end up with nary a creative bone in his body but he will be sure to prevent us from appearing on Hoarders with his gift for squaring things away.
That is all, I'll be back tomorrow I presume with something mind-blowingly awesome for you. Schyeah right & monkeys might fly out of my butt!
21 March 2011
Yay yay for SDA
I don't think I've spent much time discussing religion in this here blog & that's because it would either put me to sleep or rile me up. I have no problem sleeping on my own & I try to avoid riling so I stepped back. But last week I kept seeing a link to this article that apparently us Seventh Day Adventists are the fastest growing church in America. Every person who posted in on Facebook & the people being interviewed in said article seem to have the same reaction as me, basically "Really?"
http://www.usatoday.com/news/religion/2011-03-18-Adventists_17_ST_N.htm
It's good news, just a bit surprising as we tend to consider ourselves the underdogs of religion. Is there ever a wacko in the news that didn't attend an SDA school (Lee Boyd Malvo), grow up Adventist (that dude with dreads that stocked up a bunch of caskets in his house then killed his family) or yeah, get kicked out of the church & start his own cult (David Koresh)? Like crazy moths to a flame!
Anyhoo, I think it's fairly common to have doubts about God & especially religion as you grow up. I know I've had my doubts. I consider myself an intelligent person - not quick enough to love a debate but I certainly turn into an evil overlord of all Trivial Pursuit games I can squirrel my way into. To be fair, I will share that in 8th grade us "gifted" class kids were all scheduled to take IQ tests & when I showed up for my group's time the auditorium was empty. I got the time wrong. For my IQ test. I have kept that one close to the chest until now but there you go.
Right, back to my point. With my self-diagnosed intelligence comes the fact that I am a cynical, sarcastic & snide girl. I don't always like that trait in myself & am doing my best to raise Ben as a positive enthusiastic young man but I am who I am. With that cynicism, it's natural that I would have my doubts about God & the psycho crazy nutballs that do terrible things in his name. This isn't the forum to go into my doubts & where I stand in my relationship with God - I'm dealing with it & those of you good folks who live a lovely life & don't knock anyone down in your quest for godliness shine very brightly to me & I thank you for your influence whether you recognize it or not.
But the fact is that even when I've had doubts in the big picture & I'd like to clonk the heads of so many Christians I have always had faith in Adventism. This article is fine but it doesn't capture the essence of our church. Yeah, its basic & very clear faith is fantastic - I can't remember if the article actually mentions the 27 Fundamentals (which Marcel informs me is now 28 fundamentals?)(Did they finally make haystack-eating official?) but I love that you can go to an SDA church, ask what they believe & be handed a list of exactly what defines us. No mystery, no pandering, no guessing what people want to hear from us.
Again, that's fantastic but what I find most important about Adventism is our place in the world or the very fact that we make a place in the world. ADRA (Adventist Development & Relief Agency) is the single greatest thing to come of our church in my humble opinion. I know that big churches have their own disaster relief groups & that is awesome but being that we are such a small organization in the scheme of things yet manage to make such an impact on the ground wherever development or disaster relief is needed speaks volumes about us. And from what I understand ADRA does it without shoving literature down anyone's throat - that may be a legal thing but I still respect it. I think that the lives they save, the communities they help build or rebuild and the health message that they teach is the best example that we can show to the world. Any Adventist that doesn't support ADRA should seriously be ashamed - it is putting the messages that we learn into action and if a church doesn't have helpful action and just depends on the weekly sermon, we are in trouble.
http://www.adra.org
Speaking of the health message, that is the other key to my love for Adventism. I felt like a crazy person growing up eating weird veggie meats & explaining to non-Adventist friends about vegetarianism (note: I am no longer veggie but still tend to not eat much meat) way before it was cool. And don't start me on the evils of caffeine or not having pepper on the table blah blah blah. All things I hated hearing about as a young'un but now to see constant news reports about how how to eat more healthfully & so much of it is what I've grown up with (& again, often ignored!) is very interesting.
And don't get me started on the Adventist health system. Loma Linda University Medical Center, people. What haven't they revolutionized? Ben Carson, anyone? Yeah, he is still the king of separating conjoined twins & still attending church regularly. Even here in Australia, the Sydney Adventist Hospital is extremely popular & highly regarded. Add all the other medical centers around the world & the various Adventist-owned health food companies & you've got yourself a mighty impressive tiny church. And yes, Australia, those Weetbix you adore & all the other wonders of Sanitarium? Adventist owned, my friends.
Sorry I wrote this in a rush while very tired & with a non-napping toddler so I know I'll re-read it & it's going to say "Pepper is bad. SDA church good." or something almost as brilliant. But my heart is in it - I'm not trying to recruit anyone to our church, just want to brag for probably the first time ever because we have earned a little victory dance. Oh wait, we aren't supposed to dance. Well, I think we all know that is one thing that Adventists have gotten very wrong! So dance away my friends & recognize the footprints we're putting all over the world that (hopefully) aren't stomping anyone in the process.
http://www.usatoday.com/news/religion/2011-03-18-Adventists_17_ST_N.htm
It's good news, just a bit surprising as we tend to consider ourselves the underdogs of religion. Is there ever a wacko in the news that didn't attend an SDA school (Lee Boyd Malvo), grow up Adventist (that dude with dreads that stocked up a bunch of caskets in his house then killed his family) or yeah, get kicked out of the church & start his own cult (David Koresh)? Like crazy moths to a flame!
Anyhoo, I think it's fairly common to have doubts about God & especially religion as you grow up. I know I've had my doubts. I consider myself an intelligent person - not quick enough to love a debate but I certainly turn into an evil overlord of all Trivial Pursuit games I can squirrel my way into. To be fair, I will share that in 8th grade us "gifted" class kids were all scheduled to take IQ tests & when I showed up for my group's time the auditorium was empty. I got the time wrong. For my IQ test. I have kept that one close to the chest until now but there you go.
Right, back to my point. With my self-diagnosed intelligence comes the fact that I am a cynical, sarcastic & snide girl. I don't always like that trait in myself & am doing my best to raise Ben as a positive enthusiastic young man but I am who I am. With that cynicism, it's natural that I would have my doubts about God & the psycho crazy nutballs that do terrible things in his name. This isn't the forum to go into my doubts & where I stand in my relationship with God - I'm dealing with it & those of you good folks who live a lovely life & don't knock anyone down in your quest for godliness shine very brightly to me & I thank you for your influence whether you recognize it or not.
But the fact is that even when I've had doubts in the big picture & I'd like to clonk the heads of so many Christians I have always had faith in Adventism. This article is fine but it doesn't capture the essence of our church. Yeah, its basic & very clear faith is fantastic - I can't remember if the article actually mentions the 27 Fundamentals (which Marcel informs me is now 28 fundamentals?)(Did they finally make haystack-eating official?) but I love that you can go to an SDA church, ask what they believe & be handed a list of exactly what defines us. No mystery, no pandering, no guessing what people want to hear from us.
Again, that's fantastic but what I find most important about Adventism is our place in the world or the very fact that we make a place in the world. ADRA (Adventist Development & Relief Agency) is the single greatest thing to come of our church in my humble opinion. I know that big churches have their own disaster relief groups & that is awesome but being that we are such a small organization in the scheme of things yet manage to make such an impact on the ground wherever development or disaster relief is needed speaks volumes about us. And from what I understand ADRA does it without shoving literature down anyone's throat - that may be a legal thing but I still respect it. I think that the lives they save, the communities they help build or rebuild and the health message that they teach is the best example that we can show to the world. Any Adventist that doesn't support ADRA should seriously be ashamed - it is putting the messages that we learn into action and if a church doesn't have helpful action and just depends on the weekly sermon, we are in trouble.
http://www.adra.org
Speaking of the health message, that is the other key to my love for Adventism. I felt like a crazy person growing up eating weird veggie meats & explaining to non-Adventist friends about vegetarianism (note: I am no longer veggie but still tend to not eat much meat) way before it was cool. And don't start me on the evils of caffeine or not having pepper on the table blah blah blah. All things I hated hearing about as a young'un but now to see constant news reports about how how to eat more healthfully & so much of it is what I've grown up with (& again, often ignored!) is very interesting.
And don't get me started on the Adventist health system. Loma Linda University Medical Center, people. What haven't they revolutionized? Ben Carson, anyone? Yeah, he is still the king of separating conjoined twins & still attending church regularly. Even here in Australia, the Sydney Adventist Hospital is extremely popular & highly regarded. Add all the other medical centers around the world & the various Adventist-owned health food companies & you've got yourself a mighty impressive tiny church. And yes, Australia, those Weetbix you adore & all the other wonders of Sanitarium? Adventist owned, my friends.
Sorry I wrote this in a rush while very tired & with a non-napping toddler so I know I'll re-read it & it's going to say "Pepper is bad. SDA church good." or something almost as brilliant. But my heart is in it - I'm not trying to recruit anyone to our church, just want to brag for probably the first time ever because we have earned a little victory dance. Oh wait, we aren't supposed to dance. Well, I think we all know that is one thing that Adventists have gotten very wrong! So dance away my friends & recognize the footprints we're putting all over the world that (hopefully) aren't stomping anyone in the process.
16 March 2011
Strong stomachs only please
I shouldn't share this story - it seems wrong to put Ben's bizarro behavior on display for the Wide Wide World of Web to enjoy. But frankly he deserves it because he almost pushed me to put in my notice. Turns out there is no 2-week notice process for quitting being a mother. Apparently this is a lifetime gig. SOMEONE OUGHT TO TELL YOU THESE THINGS BEFORE YOU GET HYPNOTIZED BY THE SQUISHY NEWBORN FACE.
Ben has been delighting exactly one person - himself - recently with his new talent of taking his pants & diaper off. Lovely. Pee pee in his bed, frantic parents changing sheets, pee pee on the rug, frantic parents cleaning it up, all the while begging the boy to cut it the hell out.
Today he took it to a whole new level.
I was in my room putting lotion on when I see Ben streak by with no pants on, trying to get into the bathroom where he thinks I am. I run into the loungeroom to see what the damage is & notice not a puddle of pee but two big blobs of poop instead. It takes me about half a second to realize I need to get back to Ben & leave the poop for now. And I was right. His hands are covered in poop, his shirt is covered in smeared poop & OH. MY. WORD. his mouth is smothered in poop. He is trying to eat it off his hands (he hates having dirty hands) & smells like a cow field. I get a bubble bath going, clean all the poop off of him that I can & throw him in the tub.
In intervals of about 30 seconds I run to the washing machine to soak his clothes in stain removing stuff, run back to the bathroom to check on Ben, run to the rug to see what I'm going to need, back to check on Ben, stuff some toilet paper up my nose, check on Ben, run back to the rug for clean up & here is where time slooooowed right down.
I've got a bit of a sensitive stomach, which is why I have stuffed toilet paper in my nostrils. I scoop up Ben's diaper & use more toilet paper to pick up his poop & drop it into the diaper so I can bundle it all up, put it in a diaper disposal bag & be done. Halfway through this my stomach starts rolling so I hurry & bundle up his diaper, drop it (not making a mess thankfully), start panicking that I'm going to spew. I don't want to ruin the rug if his poop plus old food stains haven't already done it so I go for the only other option - I'm not a proud woman. I pull the toilet paper scraps out of my nose & puke into it. So now I've got a poopy diaper baggy in one hand, pukey toilet paper in the other & run back to the bathroom to check on Ben. Dispose of everything, sit on the floor of the bathroom to lecture Ben on exactly how bad this day is. Call Marcel to commiserate. Sit on the floor & feel sorry for myself a bit more. Finally get Ben out, diapered in some old pull-up type diaper we bought once but didn't like (can't remember why), hoping Ben will be confused by the lack of tabs to peeeeeel off like he adores doing. He's all dressed, teeth brushed, drank a bottle of milk (I have no idea why I chose that), I've done my internet research to make sure he'll be fine - he will - & then I rush back to the bathroom & puke my fool head off. Mind you Ben has learned how to open the bathroom door so I can't even puke in peace because he bursts in like that terrifying Kool-Aid man & whoops in delight.
This motherhood business is killing me & now it's even ruined Froot Loops for me.
Ben has been delighting exactly one person - himself - recently with his new talent of taking his pants & diaper off. Lovely. Pee pee in his bed, frantic parents changing sheets, pee pee on the rug, frantic parents cleaning it up, all the while begging the boy to cut it the hell out.
Today he took it to a whole new level.
I was in my room putting lotion on when I see Ben streak by with no pants on, trying to get into the bathroom where he thinks I am. I run into the loungeroom to see what the damage is & notice not a puddle of pee but two big blobs of poop instead. It takes me about half a second to realize I need to get back to Ben & leave the poop for now. And I was right. His hands are covered in poop, his shirt is covered in smeared poop & OH. MY. WORD. his mouth is smothered in poop. He is trying to eat it off his hands (he hates having dirty hands) & smells like a cow field. I get a bubble bath going, clean all the poop off of him that I can & throw him in the tub.
In intervals of about 30 seconds I run to the washing machine to soak his clothes in stain removing stuff, run back to the bathroom to check on Ben, run to the rug to see what I'm going to need, back to check on Ben, stuff some toilet paper up my nose, check on Ben, run back to the rug for clean up & here is where time slooooowed right down.
I've got a bit of a sensitive stomach, which is why I have stuffed toilet paper in my nostrils. I scoop up Ben's diaper & use more toilet paper to pick up his poop & drop it into the diaper so I can bundle it all up, put it in a diaper disposal bag & be done. Halfway through this my stomach starts rolling so I hurry & bundle up his diaper, drop it (not making a mess thankfully), start panicking that I'm going to spew. I don't want to ruin the rug if his poop plus old food stains haven't already done it so I go for the only other option - I'm not a proud woman. I pull the toilet paper scraps out of my nose & puke into it. So now I've got a poopy diaper baggy in one hand, pukey toilet paper in the other & run back to the bathroom to check on Ben. Dispose of everything, sit on the floor of the bathroom to lecture Ben on exactly how bad this day is. Call Marcel to commiserate. Sit on the floor & feel sorry for myself a bit more. Finally get Ben out, diapered in some old pull-up type diaper we bought once but didn't like (can't remember why), hoping Ben will be confused by the lack of tabs to peeeeeel off like he adores doing. He's all dressed, teeth brushed, drank a bottle of milk (I have no idea why I chose that), I've done my internet research to make sure he'll be fine - he will - & then I rush back to the bathroom & puke my fool head off. Mind you Ben has learned how to open the bathroom door so I can't even puke in peace because he bursts in like that terrifying Kool-Aid man & whoops in delight.
This motherhood business is killing me & now it's even ruined Froot Loops for me.
Gleeful confessions
I have a confession to make & it absolutely pains me to admit this. Seriously, as I'm typing this I'm regretting it & will have to debate whether or not to actually publish this post - I'm that embarrassed. But here we go. I watch Glee. I have no judgment for those of you who enjoy this show, to each his or her own & the good Lord knows I have watched enough trashy TV to disqualify me from judging others. The good Lord might actually remember that in college, my roommate & I (yes, let's drag Dana into this) had our TV set to turn itself on & set itself to the WB (or was it UPN?) so all we had to do was rush in from class & the glorious goodness of Jerry! Jerry! Jerry! was waiting for us. Good times, good times.
Anyway, back to Glee. I would not go so far as to say I'm a fan of this show. I would say that there is absolutely nothing else on at that time on my few measly channels so I've had no choice if I am in the mood for scripted TV. Let me tell you that my channel-switching finger gets twitchy every time they start singing because the combination of their little earnest faces and the horrendous over-usage of Autotune hits every nerve in my core. I used to want to be a singer. I took many voice classes. I will even admit I was quite good. I think my voice coaches probably want to kill the cast of Glee or the sound engineers who think they sound better when they turn the Autotune switch to 11. I imagine somewhere under that hot mess, those kids can actually sing & I bet they don't all sound exactly alike either like some adorably awkward cult.
But this post is not about the Autotuning or the fact that they can seem both so emotional & yet so utterly soulless at the same time. It is not about the fact that the Glee teacher is so not good looking & I don't understand why I'm the only one who thinks this. This post is not about how much I like Gwyneth Paltrow in her guest role on it & I'm convinced that this is closer to Gwyneth's true personality than the over-composed, macrobiotic, posh Londoner image that we get fed. This post is also not about the fact that during every single episode I have watched I have considered dying my hair red & vowed to dress better every time they show the guidance counselor. This post really should be about the fact that I have watched several episodes & yet still don't know most characters' names - I do remember Santana because who wouldn't remember a gorgeous slut named Santana? I have yet to get Quinn of Flynn (it's not Flynn is it? But it does rhyme with Quinn right?) correct - ones a boy & ones a girl & I don't really care for either of them so it doesn't bother me.
Let me get to the point of this post. I love how Glee shows relationships. I honestly could do without the main girl, the pretty blonde girl & the big doofy main dude who is apparently good looking but again, I don't see it. I eat up every moment with the mohawked guy & the fat girl that he's madly in love with, I want to reach out to my TV & smooch the good lookin' Warbler in his little adorable blazer when he tries to talk to Kurt (Yay - another name I remember!) about sex & life & being comfortable with who you are. Okay, I want to reach out & smooch the be-blazered Warbler for many reasons but that's the main one! And two gorgeous girls in relationships with dudes but messing around with each other & having the mixed up feelings to along with it is bold ... & real. Now really, was there a dry eye in the house when Kurt's dad sat down with him to discuss gay sex with him? There were plenty of dry eyes in our house because Marcel merely tolerates my Glee watching & Ben was in bed but I tell you I was crying. I was also taking mental notes that I have already forgotten, which is a shame because he said some truly beautiful things that any teenager, straight or gay, would be lucky to hear from his or her parents. When my children are old enough, I shall use my holographic computer/hoverboard to call up this episode of Glee & consider my work done. The fact that a hoverboard is the only futuristic thing I could come up with should tell you why I'm depending on the brains of TV writers to inform my children about life. I also may have originally typed hieroglyphic instead of holographic so I really don't have a strong grasp of the future at all.
Anyway, there you are. A hearty pat on the back to you Glee for bringing some really cool things to our screens. If you get that damn Autotune under control & dial back the schmaltzy emotions, I might not be tempted to turn the channel during every musical number. (I may also be tempted to look schmaltzy up before I use it because I'm not so sure it's the word I'm looking for.)(Oops, too late.) You had me with Landslide, I'll give you that - hats off to the ladies involved with that one (Santana was one of them & Gwyneth's character whose name I may not ever have heard & the kinda dumb blonde who I want to call Heather but that's probably not right).
And yeah, don't judge me.
Anyway, back to Glee. I would not go so far as to say I'm a fan of this show. I would say that there is absolutely nothing else on at that time on my few measly channels so I've had no choice if I am in the mood for scripted TV. Let me tell you that my channel-switching finger gets twitchy every time they start singing because the combination of their little earnest faces and the horrendous over-usage of Autotune hits every nerve in my core. I used to want to be a singer. I took many voice classes. I will even admit I was quite good. I think my voice coaches probably want to kill the cast of Glee or the sound engineers who think they sound better when they turn the Autotune switch to 11. I imagine somewhere under that hot mess, those kids can actually sing & I bet they don't all sound exactly alike either like some adorably awkward cult.
But this post is not about the Autotuning or the fact that they can seem both so emotional & yet so utterly soulless at the same time. It is not about the fact that the Glee teacher is so not good looking & I don't understand why I'm the only one who thinks this. This post is not about how much I like Gwyneth Paltrow in her guest role on it & I'm convinced that this is closer to Gwyneth's true personality than the over-composed, macrobiotic, posh Londoner image that we get fed. This post is also not about the fact that during every single episode I have watched I have considered dying my hair red & vowed to dress better every time they show the guidance counselor. This post really should be about the fact that I have watched several episodes & yet still don't know most characters' names - I do remember Santana because who wouldn't remember a gorgeous slut named Santana? I have yet to get Quinn of Flynn (it's not Flynn is it? But it does rhyme with Quinn right?) correct - ones a boy & ones a girl & I don't really care for either of them so it doesn't bother me.
Let me get to the point of this post. I love how Glee shows relationships. I honestly could do without the main girl, the pretty blonde girl & the big doofy main dude who is apparently good looking but again, I don't see it. I eat up every moment with the mohawked guy & the fat girl that he's madly in love with, I want to reach out to my TV & smooch the good lookin' Warbler in his little adorable blazer when he tries to talk to Kurt (Yay - another name I remember!) about sex & life & being comfortable with who you are. Okay, I want to reach out & smooch the be-blazered Warbler for many reasons but that's the main one! And two gorgeous girls in relationships with dudes but messing around with each other & having the mixed up feelings to along with it is bold ... & real. Now really, was there a dry eye in the house when Kurt's dad sat down with him to discuss gay sex with him? There were plenty of dry eyes in our house because Marcel merely tolerates my Glee watching & Ben was in bed but I tell you I was crying. I was also taking mental notes that I have already forgotten, which is a shame because he said some truly beautiful things that any teenager, straight or gay, would be lucky to hear from his or her parents. When my children are old enough, I shall use my holographic computer/hoverboard to call up this episode of Glee & consider my work done. The fact that a hoverboard is the only futuristic thing I could come up with should tell you why I'm depending on the brains of TV writers to inform my children about life. I also may have originally typed hieroglyphic instead of holographic so I really don't have a strong grasp of the future at all.
Anyway, there you are. A hearty pat on the back to you Glee for bringing some really cool things to our screens. If you get that damn Autotune under control & dial back the schmaltzy emotions, I might not be tempted to turn the channel during every musical number. (I may also be tempted to look schmaltzy up before I use it because I'm not so sure it's the word I'm looking for.)(Oops, too late.) You had me with Landslide, I'll give you that - hats off to the ladies involved with that one (Santana was one of them & Gwyneth's character whose name I may not ever have heard & the kinda dumb blonde who I want to call Heather but that's probably not right).
And yeah, don't judge me.
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