I Hate Hate

Ah, election season! That joyous time of year when everyone spews hate at each other. Isn’t it grand?

I find all the mudslinging very upsetting, I can’t help it. And while I can avoid the negative commercials on TV, thanks to the wonderfulness of DVR, it is a little harder to avoid on Facebook.

Of course, this is all pretty one-sided. If you post something I agree with, well then yes, I like it! I’m not gonna lie, I am very left leaning on most issues. I am ok with that. It is who I am and who I have become. I am not embarrassed by my political leanings, and I think it is kinda strange when people are very secretive about who they vote for or whatnot. Are you embarrassed by your beliefs? In my mind, I liken politics to religion. I’m not embarrassed to tell people if they ask that I am not religious or that I was raised Catholic, so why should I be secretive about being a bleeding heart liberal? And feel free to stereotype me – earlier this week I listened to public radio in my Prius while driving to Whole Foods to buy tofu. Even I laughed at me.

But here’s the thing: my beliefs are exactly that: MINE. While I may hop on my soap box from time to time about spaying and neutering or other animal welfare issues, I try to keep my more controversial beliefs to myself. It is not my job to sway your opinion on who to vote for or what you should or shouldn’t eat or how to raise your kids or other sensitive issues. And that carries over into Facebook as well. My Facebook friends are supposed to be my friends. Why would I post stuff that would upset my friends? That would make me a pretty crappy friend, in my opinion.

I try to be a conscious Facebook poster. I try to be positive in my posts, I try to restrain myself from posting 50 million pictures of my baby 20 times a day (there is a time and a place for that kind of behavior, and that time and place is called Flickr), I try to refrain from *constantly* talking about my baby or my horse or my cats or about cars, I try to refrain from constantly bragging about how awesome you should think my life appears. (It has its ups and downs, but I am not gonna like – I think it’s pretty awesome!) I try to be considerate of my audience and not piss them off or annoy them or make them feel bad. I want to be a good friend, not a crappy one.

The point is, I am tired of people posting negative comments and pictures on Facebook, especially as they relate to my political views. When you post something negative about something I support, I tend to take it very personally. I truly believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinions, and everyone has the right to express those opinions, but there are more productive ways these opinions and beliefs can be expressed that aren’t hurtful or mean. When you insult me, my reaction is to go on the defensive. Fight or flight. It can’t be controlled. But when you present your argument to me in a way that is educated, non-inflammatory, and non-hateful, I am more inclined to give it consideration, or at the very least be accepting of the fact that you have your opinions and that is ok even if they differ from mine. Isn’t that your goal? Or is your goal to make me feel bad? If so, it is working. :(

If you are looking to change someone’s views to be more in line with your own, positive dialog goes a loooooong way. Being hateful and mean makes it less likely for me to respect your views. You win more friend with honey, as they say. But it is so easy to be mean, it takes a lot more effort to be nice, sadly.

That said, I think I am going to try to follow the wise words of Gandhi: “If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him… we need not wait to see what others do,” or, as it is often truncated: be the change you want to see in the world.

I am vowing to go hate-free. Well, I am going to try it for one day, and see how long it lasts. I am the first to admit that I hate a lot of stuff, so this is definitely going to be a challenge for me. But every time I get worked up about something, I am going to make an effort to not hate. I am going to dismiss negative thoughts in my head, I am not going to let myself get worked up, I am going to let others have their opinions without them influencing my feelings. It will be hard, no doubt, but hopefully it can be a practice I can continue, and hopefully it will inspire others to be less hateful along the way!

Instead of telling you what to do, I am going to do what I want to do and hopefully lead by example, because I would love to see less hate.

Everyone Loves a Baby!

The polar bear arrived on Easter Sunday. Not without first putting Mommy through 17 hours of labor that ended in a c-section though. Apparently there was a reason I was so large – my baby was so large! Pbear weighed in at 10 lbs, 8 oz!! The doctor said that even if I had been able to get her head out (and I tried, for 2 glorious hours), I never would have gotten her shoulders out. Yay. I was told that if we have more children to not bother trying a VBAC. I asked the doctor at my 2 week follow up appointment why they couldn’t have told in the first place pbear was too big? After all, I had been measuring big for at least the last 10 weeks of my pregnancy. Wasn’t that a sign? Don’t they have ways of determining how large a baby is before it is born?

I will spare you the details, but those 3 and a half days in the hospital were the most physically humiliating days of my life. It was such a welcome relief to come home. And pbear has been a VERY easy baby. Sure, I could complain, but overall, she is awesome. We are very lucky, and very much in love with her.

It is amazing to me how people react to a baby. We have gotten a gazillion baby gifts – we didn’t get half this many gifts when we got married. I think partly it is because we had a girl, and who doesn’t like buying little girl clothes??? I think if we had a boy, we would have gotten a lot less. But it will be at least a year or two before we need to shell out our own money on clothes for her. We have also had a ton of visitors, and every photo we put up online has gotten a ton of likes and comments. We are trying to be sparing in our “overly obsessed parents” Facebook posts, but people keep asking us to put up more updates and pics. I just don’t get it. But I will comply, because I love looking at them too!

Inapropriations

Although it is painfully obvious that at some point about 10 months ago I engaged in unprotected sex with my husband, and embarrassingly clear that “The Girls” have been doing their darndest to convince the world that I am cold despite how overheated I have been, it boggles my mind that people view a pregnant woman as an open invitation to say and ask inappropriate things. Things such as these gems:

“Wow! You are so big/ready to pop!” Yes. Thanks. I have noticed that I have put on over 50 lbs, but I super appreciate your noticing it and pointing it out, too! Yay.

“Are you dilated/effaced?” Really? Did you just ask me a question about my cervix? How about we keep intimate details about my cervix between me, my husband, and my doctor?

“Who will be in the delivery room with you?” Are you asking to be invited? GROSS. If my lady parts were a public theatre, I never would have gotten married and committed myself to one person in the first place.

“Any day now!” This isn’t so much inappropriate, as much as it is annoying. Yes, I am aware my due date is tomorrow. In fact, I was the one who provided you with that information in the first place. A due date is not an exact science, and baby is going to arrive when she decides to, not when the OB/GYN estimates she will. Key word there is 'estimates.' It may be tomorrow, it may be next week. Stop reminding me and let me just continue on doing what I am doing. I hope to have the next 60 or so years to enjoy her company, I can be patient. Can you?

“Was this planned?” Um, I am almost 40. Do you think this was an accident?

“Do you know when you conceived?” SERIOUSLY? Are you asking me when I had sex? See above question. If we were “actively trying,” then, no – I can’t pinpoint exactly which, um, “session” it was while I was ovulating that led to this bundle of joy.

“You’ll need a bigger car!” Yeah. We bought a bigger car. Happy now? We bought a Prius. What is that? I will still need to buy an SUV/Minivan when baby #2 arrives? No. I won’t. A Prius is plenty roomy. Also, let me get through this pregnancy before you start making assumptions about more children. Hubby just wants one, and we had a hard enough time getting this one as it is. Let’s just enjoy her for a little while and be happy with that before you start reevaluating my vehicular needs.

“The baby has/hasn’t dropped!” My eyes are up here.

Just You Wait!

It gets worse! LOL!1!!1!

Ugh. I am so freaking sick of people asking me how I am feeling. It seems there are two types of people – usually women – who ask me how I am feeling: those that have had children and those that haven’t. Since I have adopted an, “I’ll tell you *exactly* how I feel” attitude when people ask, I find that the people who haven’t had children like to offer up solutions to my feeling like shit. Things like, “have you tried getting a massage?” or, “try going for a walk!” I know, I know – it is just out of concern for my well-being, and I should be ever so grateful that I have friends that care enough to ask, but seriously – the only thing that is going to make me feel better is to have this baby.

Women who have had children usually refrain from asking me how I feel – they already know, they don’t need to ask. But those that do ask always laugh when I tell them, and then offer up such charmers as, “you think it is bad now? LOL!” Yes. I find that hilarious too. Oh, no, wait a minute – I DON’T F’ING FIND IT HILARIOUS AT ALL.

While I may not have given birth yet or experienced the joys of having a newborn, I do not live under a rock. I understand there is a whole lot of pain and suffering that will go along with the next stages. So what is the point of taunting me? I really have lost all tolerance for that. I will feel like shit then, but I feel like shit now, too. No amount of knowing it gets worse makes how I feel now any better.

I haven’t slept through the night in months. My insomnia is so persistent that my mind no longer races in the middle of the night, having had so much time already to work through everything that would make it otherwise race. Some nights are more tolerable than others. But some, such as last night, are a complete and utter nightmare. At one point, I gave up and moved to the couch and sobbed uncontrollably for a long time out of complete and utter despair. I did finally end up falling back to sleep, but it was 30 minutes before my alarm went off. I feel like death warmed over.

It is a miserable existence to go through the day feeling the worst you have ever felt, and not finding any relief once bedtime arrives. Your bed should be your sanctuary, your one place to go to feel better when everything else has failed. These days, I look at it with dread. I know that going to bed means more of the same, if not worse, awfulness.

I know I won’t be sleeping through the night when baby arrives, as everyone so gleefully reminds me, but I feel like these months of insomnia have my body pretty well conditioned to handle 3 am feedings and whatnot. I mean, not sleeping is not sleeping, regardless if there is a small person screaming next to me or not, right? And besides, misery loves company. I think those sleepless nights will be much better than they are now, since I will have someone to spend the time with who is just as miserable as I am.

The Goldfish Bowl

I was on a website today that posts news stories related to a variety of environmental issues, and there was an image accompanying a website poll of a goldfish jumping from a small goldfish bowl into what looked to be a larger, more beautiful goldfish bowl. Of course, if you look closer at the larger bowl, you will see it is actually a tropical reef scene (i.e., salt water – which would kill a fresh water fish such as a goldfish). I know that no animals were harmed in the Photoshopping of this image, but yikes, does this environmental news source hate goldfish?

I love fish, and have had my own tanks for at least the past 25 years. I have had a variety of fresh and saltwater fish over the years, and of all the fish I have owned, goldfish are among my favorite. I currently have 4 ornamental goldfish in a 55 gallon aquarium. It pains me to see goldfish bowls for sale at pet stores. It pains me to hear about people who keep these lovely fish in bowls.

A goldfish should NEVER be kept in a goldfish bowl - they require at least 2 gallons of water per inch of fish at their size when full grown. So, if you buy a 1 inch goldfish that will grow to reach 10 inches in length, put that 1 inch goldfish in a tank that is at least 20 gallons. Most goldfish bowls are about a gallon, maybe 2 or 3 for a really large bowl. This is not a sufficient enough size for any goldfish.

People have told me, “yes, but they will grow to the size of their tank,” when trying to make a case for a bowl. Sure, if you keep them in a bowl, they will stay small. In other words, you are stunting their growth and limiting their lifespan. Under proper conditions, a goldfish can live up to 35 or 40 years old. If confining an animal to an environment that is too small for it to survive was an acceptable practice, veal calves would be a more popular pet.

If you want to ethically stunt some growth, then get a bonsai tree. If you want a bowl with a fish in it, get a Siamese fighting fish (who can survive in a puddle of water in their native environs), and leave the goldfish to someone who can properly care for it. Thanks.

How are you feeling?

My new least favorite question these days is, “How are you feeling?” It ranks up there with such all-time greats as, “did you get a haircut?” when I get a haircut, and, “what are you eating?” while eating lunch. I try to answer politely and positively, but here’s the deal, people – I am 8 months pregnant – how do you THINK I feel???

Here is how I feel: I have basically felt like I have had the flu (the real flu, not the stomach flu) since probably the beginning of August. Try being sick for 8 months and having to go to work every single (work) day because you can’t spare a single vacation day or sick day because you already don’t have enough to cover your maternity leave in the first place. (Going to work on top of maintaining a house and marriage, caring for pets, social obligations, work obligations, etc., etc., that is.)

Admittedly, given all the things I have read, I have been VERY lucky with this pregnancy in that I have managed to avoid all the typical grossities (vomiting, stretch marks, hemorrhoids, varicose veins, etc., etc.) that are pretty standard with this affliction. But I still feel like shit. Every day. It doesn’t get better, it just gets – well, not so much worse as much as harder.

I ache. Last night I cooked dinner and while I was making dinner I was trying to get some chores done around the house. I was on my feet for about 1.5 hours. By the time I sat down to dinner, my back was so sore from the minimal effort I had just exerted that I thought I was going to throw up from the pain. That is on top of the pain my body is already feeling with being worn out, overweight, and dealing with being kicked repeatedly in the stomach and Braxton Hicks contractions which are now adding menstrual cramp-like pain to the tightening, just for fun. Yay!

I am a big fat horse. Seriously – my horse looks at me and thinks, “Thank GOD she can’t ride anymore!” I can literally feel myself getting bigger. And while I have more or less come to terms with the weight gain and the fact that it will hopefully all be temporary and worthwhile, there is still something jarring about the realization that the stretching feeling in your abdomen is you physically growing larger. And part and parcel with getting larger is the beauty of maternity clothes. Really, who was the genius who decided maternity clothes should be form fitting? I am a big fat horse, clothing makers – why are my only options skinny jeans and leggings and thigh-hugging pants, and tight shirts whose dimensions are never quite right??? Can’t I have a nice pair of baggy jeans here and there so I can sit down without worrying that the fabric is going to cause deep vein thrombosis because it is cutting off circulation to my ever expanding thighs??? Because, you know, I wasn’t already uncomfortable on my own here. Now I get to squeeze into tight pants that add pain and discomfort to my pain and discomfort. Thanks.

And then there are the physical ailments and difficulties. Heartburn has been a regular in my life the past 2 months. It is so awesome – I go from feeling just fine to ohmygodiamgoingtofaintifidonteatNOW! So I have to eat immediately, and then I get really bad heartburn, regardless of if it is a heaping bowl of extra spicy chili or if it is a rice cake. You have taken the joy out of eating, pregnancy.

I miss my love affair with food. I also miss sleeping. Everyone says you don’t sleep once baby arrives. What they don’t tell you is that you don’t sleep while pregnant, either. From 2 am potty breaks, to kicking snorers out of your bed, to trying to roll over while sporting a mountain on your stomach and trying to take the asinine body pillow with you, a full 8 hours is a distant memory. I hate my body pillow. I don’t get it. It doesn’t seem to help much, yet I still sleep with it every night. Am I missing something here?

Other joys of pregnancy I have been experiencing:

• Swollen hands and feet – These aren’t too bad, really, but I did have to take off my wedding rings. It has been pretty funny to go out to dinner or to pediatrician information sessions with my husband, who is still sporting his ring, and feel like I must look like a knocked-up mistress. Especially since we are on the older side of our 30s and are clearly old enough to know better.
• A wonderful inability to breathe – I have to stop and catch my breath in the middle of sentences! Oddly, I am able to do 30 minutes of brisk walking on the treadmill several times a week just fine, but walk to the bathroom from the living room? Forget it.
• Inability to do everyday tasks – I can no longer do such things as get up off the couch on my own strength. My ability to use my core muscles disappeared around month 4, and it has been downhill since then. I can still put on my own shoes (with a lot of effort) and shave my legs, but I am pretty sure I will not be able to much longer. I can’t get in and out of my husband’s car anymore, and barely fit in my own driver seat. Granted, we drive very little cars, but I fully intend to be thin again, so I am viewing this as a temporary affliction. Hilariously, I can no longer put my Tupperware on my lap while driving as there is not enough room between the wheel and my belly to fit it. Yes, I eat in the car. I eat everywhere. (*see: big fat horse)
• Everything hurts – sitting down hurts. Laying down hurts. Standing hurts.
• Ignorance is bliss – The pregnancy brain hasn’t been too bad but it is still there.
• I am sure there are a lot of other things, but, well, see previous item.

So that is how I feel: fat, tired, sore, stupid, etc., etc. At least (my husband and) I can be glad that my hormones have pretty much remained in check and meltdowns and outbursts have remained at a pretty low level. And I can be glad that I have so many wonderful friends out there who genuinely are concerned about how I feel. And for that, I will keep my meowing to Hate Plate, and continue to answer them as politely and positively as I can.