Ok, this thought has come up a number of times in my head. It's gross, but so is a lot of things about real life so here goes.
Every once in a while, you go into a public restroom and find that the last visitor didn't fully flush. I think there is a division in the world here. Some people flush and go about their business, other are repulsed and move to the next, hopefully flushed seat. The question of the day is, are you a flusher or a leaver?
I think I'm mostly flusher, somewhat leaver. If it's the standard, slightly yellow water with a reasonably small amount of toilet paper, I'll usually flush -- especially if I'm actually in the stall when I notice it. After all, there must have been the rare occassion when I haven't pushed the handle all the way down and, while I went through the correct motions, but didn't get it everything through the pipes. I'm humble enough to admit that if it can happen to others, it's likely happened to me and I just didn't notice.
But then there's the occassional pot that I avoid because it doesn't look like the innocent "I accidentally didn't push the handle all the way down," it looks more like a trap. "Let's see who's sucker enough to flush and then try to avoid the horror when this beast of excrement overflows." I'm pretty sure most people leave those. Special thanks to those custodians or poor minimum-wage workers who graciously deal with these pots because really, they are scary.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Flip-flop Man
Last night Dave went to work in the evening for a couple of hours to catch up on things. This is not all-together out of character. What was out-of-character was the question he asked when he returned home.
"How was YOUR evening?" (emphasis on "your")
Normally he'll ask something like "did Rhianna go down ok?," "what'd you do while I was gone?," you know, standard stuff.
Fine, what happened to you?
So most people are in or witness to what? maybe 5 car accidents in their life? Well, Dave is filling his quota fast. As he was driving to work at about 7:30, the truck in front of him and the motorcycle in back of him decided to have a little shindig after turning onto main. The motorcycle sped past Dave and must have not seen the truck changing lanes ahead of him and.. well, I'm not sure the details exactly, but Dave said it was "just like on tv" when the motorcyclist (hereby known as Flip-flop Man) came off his bike as it went skidding down the road. Yikes. Flip-flop Man was wearing a helmet and apparently was able to limp along ok with bad road rash on his arm/leg/now-mangled-flip-flopped-feet. Dave and some other motorists stopped to make sure things were well in hand before going about their way.
Geez. Just when you think you've had enough events to fill your brain for one week, something else happens. So this post is in dedication to Dave, who seems to be keeping his wits about him very well; to Erica, who's baby boy went through surgery today with, as far as we can tell, flying colors; and to everyone out there who's dealt with the Unexpected more than their fair share in the last few weeks. Your strength inspires.
"How was YOUR evening?" (emphasis on "your")
Normally he'll ask something like "did Rhianna go down ok?," "what'd you do while I was gone?," you know, standard stuff.
Fine, what happened to you?
So most people are in or witness to what? maybe 5 car accidents in their life? Well, Dave is filling his quota fast. As he was driving to work at about 7:30, the truck in front of him and the motorcycle in back of him decided to have a little shindig after turning onto main. The motorcycle sped past Dave and must have not seen the truck changing lanes ahead of him and.. well, I'm not sure the details exactly, but Dave said it was "just like on tv" when the motorcyclist (hereby known as Flip-flop Man) came off his bike as it went skidding down the road. Yikes. Flip-flop Man was wearing a helmet and apparently was able to limp along ok with bad road rash on his arm/leg/now-mangled-flip-flopped-feet. Dave and some other motorists stopped to make sure things were well in hand before going about their way.
Geez. Just when you think you've had enough events to fill your brain for one week, something else happens. So this post is in dedication to Dave, who seems to be keeping his wits about him very well; to Erica, who's baby boy went through surgery today with, as far as we can tell, flying colors; and to everyone out there who's dealt with the Unexpected more than their fair share in the last few weeks. Your strength inspires.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Naming NitWit
I could write an entire essay (and might at some point) about the baby naming process. Nonetheless, I feel compelled to comment quickly on some news I've just come across.
Everyone knows that celebraties are the worst bad-baby-name offenders, but this is getting out of hand.
First Gwenyth names he daugher Apple. Ok, you can be forgiven for that one. Somehow this one's not THAT offensive to me. But when you follow up with MOSES?!! Gwen Gwen Gwen. I know it's none of my business, but what goes on during your baby naming discussions? I guess your kid won't get the shit kicked out of him in school because he's named Moses because (1) he'll be in school with all the other strangely named celebraty kids and (2) his mom is Gwenyth Paltrow. But still, you're a role model. Set a good example woman. What if your children become normal folks... I'm sorry, but if my WalMart teller is named Moses, I'm gonna laugh. I just can't help myself.
haha, Dave's official response to this news: Poor Gwen, I bet that hurt, him coming out with those stone tablets.
See what you've done Gwen? Why didn't you think about this? He's doomed to a lifetime of bad religious puns.
Everyone knows that celebraties are the worst bad-baby-name offenders, but this is getting out of hand.
First Gwenyth names he daugher Apple. Ok, you can be forgiven for that one. Somehow this one's not THAT offensive to me. But when you follow up with MOSES?!! Gwen Gwen Gwen. I know it's none of my business, but what goes on during your baby naming discussions? I guess your kid won't get the shit kicked out of him in school because he's named Moses because (1) he'll be in school with all the other strangely named celebraty kids and (2) his mom is Gwenyth Paltrow. But still, you're a role model. Set a good example woman. What if your children become normal folks... I'm sorry, but if my WalMart teller is named Moses, I'm gonna laugh. I just can't help myself.
haha, Dave's official response to this news: Poor Gwen, I bet that hurt, him coming out with those stone tablets.
See what you've done Gwen? Why didn't you think about this? He's doomed to a lifetime of bad religious puns.
expecting the UnExpected
For the record, I just read my SIL's post and I'm proud to have married into a family with a sense of humor. Thanks Jen, you're the best.... that does NOT mean you get to fool me though. I just plain old too gullible to be any fun. Really. No Joke.
And now, page two.
I think that if this year had it a theme for our house it would be "the UnExpected." For the most part, all of our UnExpecteds have started out with anxiety and an "oh shit" moment but, I think, will work out for the best. We're started to get excited about another baby for one and for two, well, let's just say we're looking on the bright side of some other looming clouds that I don't need to mention here.
Our newest UnExpected arrived this morning. With a crash. A car crash. Dave got rear-ended. We called the insurance companies and we'll see how we go from here. The fault is clearly on the other driver so should be a pretty cut and dry thing. But it will be a pain nonetheless. I'm not sure when or how we find out if the car will be totalled or not... but I think chances are pretty good since the whole back of the car is toast. It will probably depend in part on how much they say it was worth. I'll keep you all posted.
And now, page two.
I think that if this year had it a theme for our house it would be "the UnExpected." For the most part, all of our UnExpecteds have started out with anxiety and an "oh shit" moment but, I think, will work out for the best. We're started to get excited about another baby for one and for two, well, let's just say we're looking on the bright side of some other looming clouds that I don't need to mention here.
Our newest UnExpected arrived this morning. With a crash. A car crash. Dave got rear-ended. We called the insurance companies and we'll see how we go from here. The fault is clearly on the other driver so should be a pretty cut and dry thing. But it will be a pain nonetheless. I'm not sure when or how we find out if the car will be totalled or not... but I think chances are pretty good since the whole back of the car is toast. It will probably depend in part on how much they say it was worth. I'll keep you all posted.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
The String
At sixteen weeks pregnant, I am somewhere in between maternity and regular pants. Maternity are, of course, very comfortable, but for my mental health, I will be occassionally squeezing my bulgy rear and not-yet-cute-or-firm pregnant belly into my regular clothes as long as the zippers don't burst and the tightness around my waist doesn't make me hurl.
There are several different kinds of maternity bottoms. I own the following varieties. There's the 3" waistband kind (my personal favorite), the front-panel (very icky, but useful during the late, whale-like stage of pregnancy); the under-the-belly, no panel style (this one is good, but shirt choice is important here or the stretchmarkes you don't know you have until you get to see the underside of your belly after birth show between the under-the-belly waistband and bottom-of-the-shirt edge. Another important note with the under-the-belly style of maternity bottoms is that your butt has to be just the right shape to hold these up all day. Otherwise you end up hiking them up every time you stand up or be faced with the reality of wearing penguin pants-- if you've seen Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins dancing with the penguins, then you know what I mean here); then there are the all-around panel pants. These are what I'd like to discuss today.
The actual waist on these pants are made of about a 1/2" elastic band. The elastic (at least on all that I have or have tried on) is small enough to fit snug around the smallest part of your body. Ok, so not your pinky, but definitely the smallest part of your waist if not your neck. Underneath the elastic is about 5"-7" of stretchy cotton fabric to accomodate your growing middle. This is then attached to the regular pants-- the part that everyone sees. Here's my question. On all of the materinity bottoms I own of this style, there is a string that sticks out coming from the elastic waistband-- kinda like a drawstring. What? is? this? FOR?!?!?!
The elastic built into the band is tight enough to make a size-two feel fat, so it can't possibly be there to sinch the already tight elastic even tighter. If you CAN sinch, you DON'T need maternity clothes. You either aren't pregnant or aren't yet showing. Stick to your regular clothes and stop insulting the preggers who actually do need maternity clothes.
Further, the string is long enough that no matter how humungous you get within the limits of the pants, you cannot reach the end of the string. Trust me, I tried. I stretched these suckers to their limit. I stretched them until the seams on that nice, soft cotton panel were about to burst and there was still a good 12" of string hanging down. WTF? All reason says that this string, no matter what it is for, should not be a foot longer than the possible limit of the extendable waistband. It's just confusing. I mean, when you reach the limit of the pants, you should be getting a bigger size, right? But the String! The String says I've still got space! The seams and the String are sending mixed messages. My self-image confuses things enough. I need clear communication from my pants.
Maybe the String is an emotional spaceholder? You see, you have to figure out how to tuck in the string to avoid the possible embarassment of having something-that-should-be-hidden showing. Much like how us prudish folks feel about underwear. Certain garments (or parts of garments) should not be exposed for public viewing. So the necessity of tucking the String is so that you won't forget the potential humiliation those non-preggers have of a horribly exposed tampon string. Could that be it? Is this String a subliminal message from preggers to non-preggers that, despite not having a period, we still relate to the torture of the monthly miracle? If this is the case, then where is the message that non-preggers send to preggers saying, "I cut you some slack. You're going through enough. I understand that you are sacrificing your body and sanity in order to procreate. You go girl."? For the record, this is NOT the message I get from tube-tops and an over-exposed thong.
The String (which, despite my best attemps to keep it contained, hangs out visibly at least once every day I wear clothes with this feature) advertises that yes, despite my goal of looking less gloppy by wearing maternity clothes, I am, in fact, wearing panelled maternity pants. That must be it. The String is a flag to the rest of the world that says, "I'm not JUST getting fat-- at least half of my newly acquired fat is doctor recommended!" Maybe they'll start adding the String to all pants greater than a size 12 so that women across America can suggest a possible pregnancy to judgemental passers-by instead of feeling the social pressures of needing to fit into a single-digit sized pair of pants. This way those judgers can whisper about the wearer's promiscuity in addition to her inability to metabolize a few too many McDonald's cheeseburgers.
Any other ideas? A tail? A leash? I ask you Internet, why the String?
I feel obliged to keep the String without knowing its purpose. It really seems like I could safely remove it without effecting the functionality of the pants, but who knows? Perhaps, despite all logic, this String somehow holds the pants together and removing it will render the pants utterly useless. I feel the same way about those "do not remove" tags on pillows. I mean, sure, I own the pillow, but if there's a chance I'll get arrested for removing the tag, I'll just keep it on. I put a pillow case over it anyway so it really isn't bothersome. If I cut the String, will the preggo-police come to convict? ...at this rate I'll be incarcerated for life since I refuse to sleep solely on my left side and *gasp* occassionally forget my prenatal vitamin. I'm sure an added String-cutter accusation won't significantly affect my sentence. Did I mention I plan to ride my bike well into my second trimester and might even take cold medicine? Piss off preggo-police.
There are several different kinds of maternity bottoms. I own the following varieties. There's the 3" waistband kind (my personal favorite), the front-panel (very icky, but useful during the late, whale-like stage of pregnancy); the under-the-belly, no panel style (this one is good, but shirt choice is important here or the stretchmarkes you don't know you have until you get to see the underside of your belly after birth show between the under-the-belly waistband and bottom-of-the-shirt edge. Another important note with the under-the-belly style of maternity bottoms is that your butt has to be just the right shape to hold these up all day. Otherwise you end up hiking them up every time you stand up or be faced with the reality of wearing penguin pants-- if you've seen Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins dancing with the penguins, then you know what I mean here); then there are the all-around panel pants. These are what I'd like to discuss today.
The actual waist on these pants are made of about a 1/2" elastic band. The elastic (at least on all that I have or have tried on) is small enough to fit snug around the smallest part of your body. Ok, so not your pinky, but definitely the smallest part of your waist if not your neck. Underneath the elastic is about 5"-7" of stretchy cotton fabric to accomodate your growing middle. This is then attached to the regular pants-- the part that everyone sees. Here's my question. On all of the materinity bottoms I own of this style, there is a string that sticks out coming from the elastic waistband-- kinda like a drawstring. What? is? this? FOR?!?!?!
The elastic built into the band is tight enough to make a size-two feel fat, so it can't possibly be there to sinch the already tight elastic even tighter. If you CAN sinch, you DON'T need maternity clothes. You either aren't pregnant or aren't yet showing. Stick to your regular clothes and stop insulting the preggers who actually do need maternity clothes.
Further, the string is long enough that no matter how humungous you get within the limits of the pants, you cannot reach the end of the string. Trust me, I tried. I stretched these suckers to their limit. I stretched them until the seams on that nice, soft cotton panel were about to burst and there was still a good 12" of string hanging down. WTF? All reason says that this string, no matter what it is for, should not be a foot longer than the possible limit of the extendable waistband. It's just confusing. I mean, when you reach the limit of the pants, you should be getting a bigger size, right? But the String! The String says I've still got space! The seams and the String are sending mixed messages. My self-image confuses things enough. I need clear communication from my pants.
Maybe the String is an emotional spaceholder? You see, you have to figure out how to tuck in the string to avoid the possible embarassment of having something-that-should-be-hidden showing. Much like how us prudish folks feel about underwear. Certain garments (or parts of garments) should not be exposed for public viewing. So the necessity of tucking the String is so that you won't forget the potential humiliation those non-preggers have of a horribly exposed tampon string. Could that be it? Is this String a subliminal message from preggers to non-preggers that, despite not having a period, we still relate to the torture of the monthly miracle? If this is the case, then where is the message that non-preggers send to preggers saying, "I cut you some slack. You're going through enough. I understand that you are sacrificing your body and sanity in order to procreate. You go girl."? For the record, this is NOT the message I get from tube-tops and an over-exposed thong.
The String (which, despite my best attemps to keep it contained, hangs out visibly at least once every day I wear clothes with this feature) advertises that yes, despite my goal of looking less gloppy by wearing maternity clothes, I am, in fact, wearing panelled maternity pants. That must be it. The String is a flag to the rest of the world that says, "I'm not JUST getting fat-- at least half of my newly acquired fat is doctor recommended!" Maybe they'll start adding the String to all pants greater than a size 12 so that women across America can suggest a possible pregnancy to judgemental passers-by instead of feeling the social pressures of needing to fit into a single-digit sized pair of pants. This way those judgers can whisper about the wearer's promiscuity in addition to her inability to metabolize a few too many McDonald's cheeseburgers.
Any other ideas? A tail? A leash? I ask you Internet, why the String?
I feel obliged to keep the String without knowing its purpose. It really seems like I could safely remove it without effecting the functionality of the pants, but who knows? Perhaps, despite all logic, this String somehow holds the pants together and removing it will render the pants utterly useless. I feel the same way about those "do not remove" tags on pillows. I mean, sure, I own the pillow, but if there's a chance I'll get arrested for removing the tag, I'll just keep it on. I put a pillow case over it anyway so it really isn't bothersome. If I cut the String, will the preggo-police come to convict? ...at this rate I'll be incarcerated for life since I refuse to sleep solely on my left side and *gasp* occassionally forget my prenatal vitamin. I'm sure an added String-cutter accusation won't significantly affect my sentence. Did I mention I plan to ride my bike well into my second trimester and might even take cold medicine? Piss off preggo-police.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
One of THEM
I realized yesterday when I was on the phone with one of my single friends that I've become a Mommy. I know what you're thinking, shouldn't I have figured this out when I was in labor? No. Not a mother, I mean, a MOMMY. I'm sitting there listening to my friend talk about her boyfriends and bar outings and all I could think about was, "didn't I tell her Rhianna is WALKING? Why the hell doesn't she think that this is the most interesting thing EVER!?"
I've officially beceome ONE OF THEM. One of the moms whose main interests are diapers and first steps. What happened to me? I used to talk about all sorts of interesting, ADULT things and now my conversations seem to revolve almost entirely on "cute things my 10-month-old did" or "How do I get her to (insert behavior here)." I mean, it's not that I'm not interested in my friends' lives. But somehow, becoming a mommy has a horrible side effect. I can no longer stay focused on the "should I call him back or wait until he calls?" dialogue for more than 20 second. And along with the special skill aquired by all mommies of how to change the diaper of a wriggling baby, I can veer any given conversation to the return of the nipple-leak-spot and the "how to soften baby poops" dilemma. I feel like I'm not being a good friend.
* so what do you think about all this illegal immigrant stuff that's been in the news?
- Let me tell you about immigration. I built a wall out of chairs to keep Rhianna out of the kitchen and what do you know! she figured out how to crawl through the legs. Man it's amazing watching her figure these things out.
* hmm.. yeah. that's facinating, so what do you think about the possibility of nuclear bombing Iran?
- I think they should just send some baby-poop-pellets. I can't believe how much STANK comes out of those little suckers. Whoa.
Another example was talking to my soon-to-be-married girlfriend. She's very considerate about my mommy-ness, but when I have to say "not you" a million times in the conversation, it's downright distracting. Do other Mommies do this? Example conversation :
* Did I tell you about my wedding dress?
- No! What does it look like?
* Well, it has a..
- Take your finger out of there!
* What?
- Not you, Rhianna's got her finger in her nose. About your dress.
* Oh, right, it's white, of course, and it has a small..
- Put your bottom down.
* uh...
- Not you, Rhianna's standing in the tub. Go on.
* it has a small train and a...
- Where did you get THAT?
* Uh... it came with the dress...
- No no, not you, Rhianna found a CD in the bathtub, how did that GET in there?!?
* Hey Bridget, I uhm.... should go... uh.... send the invites again or something..
- Oh, ok, well, send me a picture of your dress, it sounds beautiful!
Oh fellow Mommy friends, what have I become?! And to the sane world, I'm sorry to put you through this. I'm hoping to regain my sanity soon. Unfortunately, prospects for this decade seem to be dwindling. If only I could have a margarita, maybe alcohol would bring back the fun in me. Too bad that's off limits for a while.
I've officially beceome ONE OF THEM. One of the moms whose main interests are diapers and first steps. What happened to me? I used to talk about all sorts of interesting, ADULT things and now my conversations seem to revolve almost entirely on "cute things my 10-month-old did" or "How do I get her to (insert behavior here)." I mean, it's not that I'm not interested in my friends' lives. But somehow, becoming a mommy has a horrible side effect. I can no longer stay focused on the "should I call him back or wait until he calls?" dialogue for more than 20 second. And along with the special skill aquired by all mommies of how to change the diaper of a wriggling baby, I can veer any given conversation to the return of the nipple-leak-spot and the "how to soften baby poops" dilemma. I feel like I'm not being a good friend.
* so what do you think about all this illegal immigrant stuff that's been in the news?
- Let me tell you about immigration. I built a wall out of chairs to keep Rhianna out of the kitchen and what do you know! she figured out how to crawl through the legs. Man it's amazing watching her figure these things out.
* hmm.. yeah. that's facinating, so what do you think about the possibility of nuclear bombing Iran?
- I think they should just send some baby-poop-pellets. I can't believe how much STANK comes out of those little suckers. Whoa.
Another example was talking to my soon-to-be-married girlfriend. She's very considerate about my mommy-ness, but when I have to say "not you" a million times in the conversation, it's downright distracting. Do other Mommies do this? Example conversation :
* Did I tell you about my wedding dress?
- No! What does it look like?
* Well, it has a..
- Take your finger out of there!
* What?
- Not you, Rhianna's got her finger in her nose. About your dress.
* Oh, right, it's white, of course, and it has a small..
- Put your bottom down.
* uh...
- Not you, Rhianna's standing in the tub. Go on.
* it has a small train and a...
- Where did you get THAT?
* Uh... it came with the dress...
- No no, not you, Rhianna found a CD in the bathtub, how did that GET in there?!?
* Hey Bridget, I uhm.... should go... uh.... send the invites again or something..
- Oh, ok, well, send me a picture of your dress, it sounds beautiful!
Oh fellow Mommy friends, what have I become?! And to the sane world, I'm sorry to put you through this. I'm hoping to regain my sanity soon. Unfortunately, prospects for this decade seem to be dwindling. If only I could have a margarita, maybe alcohol would bring back the fun in me. Too bad that's off limits for a while.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Trouble
Rhianna has a partner in crime. His name is Steven and he is about three months older than she (which in the land of babies means she might as well be 10 dating a 13 year old). He's very cute.... although truth be told, he has an innie. But hey, Rhianna isn't judgemental.
So Rhianna and Steven, the dynamic duo, like to race each other to the place where they store the diapers and unload them. Well, after getting in trouble about 17 times today for pulling diapers off the shelf, Rhianna decided to get creative. While Steven stayed on the other side of the room diverting attention of the daycare providers, Rhianna went and got a diaper and innocently handed it to Steven. As if to say "what? he did it!"
I think we're in trouble already.
So Rhianna and Steven, the dynamic duo, like to race each other to the place where they store the diapers and unload them. Well, after getting in trouble about 17 times today for pulling diapers off the shelf, Rhianna decided to get creative. While Steven stayed on the other side of the room diverting attention of the daycare providers, Rhianna went and got a diaper and innocently handed it to Steven. As if to say "what? he did it!"
I think we're in trouble already.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
I go in for my second appointment today. It should be pretty uneventful. Pee in cup, get weighed (get told I'm getting fatter), hear baby's heartbeat, schedule next time to pee in cup. All very thrilling. It's amazing how lack-luster this process becomes once you've done it. Hopefully the excitement will grow With Rhianna, I was excited about everything. Every appointment, every symptom. I was even able to write off morning sickness as my body doing what it needed to do to grow a healthy baby *sigh*. But now, I know too many women who have had perfectly healthy babies and did not so much as gag, let alone puke daily. Oh well, it definitely could be worse and I count my blessings.
**after appointment**
Very uneventful appointment. The only noteworthy thing really was that I was in and out of there in less than an hour. I'll get my ultrasound mid-may, but other than that, no news. The heartbeat was a little harder to find than expected, but she found it and it was fine. Hope you're all doing well. Send Rhianna sleep vibes for tonight so we can all get a good night's sleep.
**after appointment**
Very uneventful appointment. The only noteworthy thing really was that I was in and out of there in less than an hour. I'll get my ultrasound mid-may, but other than that, no news. The heartbeat was a little harder to find than expected, but she found it and it was fine. Hope you're all doing well. Send Rhianna sleep vibes for tonight so we can all get a good night's sleep.
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