dear Baby,
if i do nothing else in the time i'll get to be your mommy, i sincerely hope that i will teach you to not be a brat. because brattiness is really obnoxious, especially on college students, and i hope that seeing me doing what i do every day and seeing your daddy doing what he does every day and seeing how we really, legitimately try to do what's right for our students will help you understand that being a sniveling, snippy jerkface doesn't get you any farther in life.
you know, this will of course intersect with things like teaching you how to be a decent person who loves and serves God, other people, and knows how to treat those in the world. i'll also try to teach you about football and baking and how to be a pop cultural sponge because sometimes those things will win you a really slammin' spouse (it worked for me), but mainly i'll just try to teach you how to be you.
and how to be a NICE you. because even though the world will tell you that it's not true, kindness goes a long way in this world. it makes the difference between dismissing someone and building a lifelong friendship. a smile can make the difference in a stranger's day--and offering it can make all the difference in yours. thinking the good about people can make them feel like you're a safe place to be, and that can lead to trust, and to be a trustworthy person in a world full of shifting definitions of "honest" is a treasure. and, on a much deeper level, learning how to be the best you will make life a lot easier. it'll be hard, sometimes, to figure out how to be that best you, but when you figure parts of it out, it just feels right.
i started this little bloggy letter to you in response to a student being unnecessarily jerky to me and me reacting to it, feeling like sometimes it doesn't matter what i do, but then it became something real. and i realized that, you know, doing your best every day is an awesome lesson and legacy to leave someone, even someone as perfect and small and fragile and malleable as you. so, instead of giving up, i'll go try to do my best some more because that's what i would tell you to do.
but i might give you a cookie first and tell you that sometimes people are mean, but that's okay, because we don't have to be. because all of those things are true. so we won't be mean. and we won't give up. we'll just be grateful for the opportunity to learn from a situation, eat a cookie, and then do the best we can do.
keep growing, Baby, and as soon as you have ears to hear, i'll start just telling you these things instead of writing them down.
(but i might write them down too--there's so much to say!--and if i told you all of it now, you'd already be rolling your eyes by the time i met you.)
i can't wait to meet you. i have a feeling you are going to be one heck of an awesome kid.
love,
your worn-out but excited mom.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
so, what is a blog?
i have a few blogs on my reader that have changed over the year or so that i've been following them. i found them, usually accidentally, when i began blogging and kept them because something about them inspired me. normally, when i follow blogs, it's because something about the way that writer writes that makes me think, helps me connect, or makes me feel like i know them on a deeper level.
this can be someone i know or don't know, but most of the time it's someone that i don't know.
this was before facebook exploded into what it is now, before social media became something to use for financial gain, before the idea of sponsored tweets, before you sort of had to look around every bloggy corner to figure out who was sponsoring this message.
(this blog post is being sponsored by the letter R and the number 9, just because they're my favorites.)
now, i find that some of the blogs that i found most compelling are...empty. they're sponsored, and coded, and full of business. and while i know there's a place for that, and i appreciate that there is a place for that, and i even encourage the place for that in some circumstances, i feel it's like in some ways it's going to lunch with a girlfriend and getting a sales pitch. it seems like the wrong place and the wrong time. it feels...duplicitious.
"take it off your google reader then, teachergirl. what's the big deal?"
i'm not sure. i'm not sure what i'm waiting for, except maybe for these bloggers that once could take a snapshot of their lives and paint it in such stirring detail to realize that shilling for sponsors isn't what got them readers. i keep waiting for someone to recognize that roots are roots for a reason and that constantly reading a sales pitch isn't interesting. i keep waiting for them to come to their senses.
but the longer it goes, and the more it seems to be happening, the more i am beginning to think that perhaps i am operating under a definitional mismatch. perhaps my definition of what a blog is--a little (public, semi-public, or private) place to carve out your own creativity, to find your voice, to share with those who are interested what you're thinking and feeling about life, family, what dreams may come--is just not what it is anymore.
this saddens me, perhaps because it just seems like there's no place left that isn't commercial, that isn't a place where we can be bought and sold. blame the phd, but this poem comes to mind:
i'm far from perfect in this capacity--i am more focused on the trappings of life sometimes than on the substance. but when the little piece of the world that we've carved out for ourselves stops looking like us and starts looking more like a catalog of potential wholesalers, that bothers me. it just bothers me. i'm not saying it's right or it's wrong--just that it rubs against me in some imperceptible way that even i don't truly understand.
i miss the small snippets of life that i used to get. i miss the snapshots of hope. i miss the things that would make me think that, in this small way, i am not alone.
and none of this really matters much. i'm sending it off into my little space, where the vast majority of people who read do so because they know me and aren't affected at all by what i am highlighting. the big bloggers that do this don't read me. and perhaps that's the problem. they don't read the bloggers who read them. they are too big, too grand, too popular. and i am sending this out into a relatively quiet space where, really, i don't think it will really be noticed. that's okay.
maybe for those of you who do read, be aware that the loyal readers you have are loyal readers for a reason. don't sell them out for 2 cents a page hit and a box of laundry detergent. you're just...better than that.
this can be someone i know or don't know, but most of the time it's someone that i don't know.
this was before facebook exploded into what it is now, before social media became something to use for financial gain, before the idea of sponsored tweets, before you sort of had to look around every bloggy corner to figure out who was sponsoring this message.
(this blog post is being sponsored by the letter R and the number 9, just because they're my favorites.)
now, i find that some of the blogs that i found most compelling are...empty. they're sponsored, and coded, and full of business. and while i know there's a place for that, and i appreciate that there is a place for that, and i even encourage the place for that in some circumstances, i feel it's like in some ways it's going to lunch with a girlfriend and getting a sales pitch. it seems like the wrong place and the wrong time. it feels...duplicitious.
"take it off your google reader then, teachergirl. what's the big deal?"
i'm not sure. i'm not sure what i'm waiting for, except maybe for these bloggers that once could take a snapshot of their lives and paint it in such stirring detail to realize that shilling for sponsors isn't what got them readers. i keep waiting for someone to recognize that roots are roots for a reason and that constantly reading a sales pitch isn't interesting. i keep waiting for them to come to their senses.
but the longer it goes, and the more it seems to be happening, the more i am beginning to think that perhaps i am operating under a definitional mismatch. perhaps my definition of what a blog is--a little (public, semi-public, or private) place to carve out your own creativity, to find your voice, to share with those who are interested what you're thinking and feeling about life, family, what dreams may come--is just not what it is anymore.
this saddens me, perhaps because it just seems like there's no place left that isn't commercial, that isn't a place where we can be bought and sold. blame the phd, but this poem comes to mind:
THE world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
i miss the small snippets of life that i used to get. i miss the snapshots of hope. i miss the things that would make me think that, in this small way, i am not alone.
and none of this really matters much. i'm sending it off into my little space, where the vast majority of people who read do so because they know me and aren't affected at all by what i am highlighting. the big bloggers that do this don't read me. and perhaps that's the problem. they don't read the bloggers who read them. they are too big, too grand, too popular. and i am sending this out into a relatively quiet space where, really, i don't think it will really be noticed. that's okay.
maybe for those of you who do read, be aware that the loyal readers you have are loyal readers for a reason. don't sell them out for 2 cents a page hit and a box of laundry detergent. you're just...better than that.
Monday, October 11, 2010
week 14: tremendously offended on behalf of the world.
i feel like i have the worst PMS on the planet.
you're welcome and happy monday to you as well.
i must have had some kind of serious spike in estrogen, or else Baby is the most empathetic soul on the planet and is thus channeling said Christ-like feeling through me, but i just cry at the drop of a hat on behalf of puppies, kittens, band members, and (of course) myself.
it's rather ridiculous, until i feel MIGHTILY.JUSTIFIED. about it, and then it seems VERY very important. like everyone should feel as i do that THAT WASN'T RIGHT and thus the world should bow in honor of my astute wisdom and justice.
yeah, i'll let you guess how often that happens.
why i compare it to PMS is that it seems to turn on a dime. one hour i'm feeling fine, the next i am sadfaced clown. it's kind of annoying, it's kind of ridiculous, it's a little bit funny when it isn't SO.VERY.SERIOUS, and i hope it ends soon.
this weekend was my birthday, and i got spoiled and then the second half of my birthday day i spent by myself watching my team lose. it was a rather depressing end to the day, and when my dear sweet musicboy came home and told me that, after losing, the football team didn't come over the band (as is their home game tradition) for the fight song and for the alma mater, the slow burn began.
at first i was like "not cool, man. not cool." but it was also midnight and i think because i had eaten not good food all day and been fighting a migraine all afternoon, i couldn't really get a fight too ferocious on.
that is, until the next morning, when i began to think about it some more and began to feel tremendously offended on behalf of all people everywhere who sacrifice for something, show up and do their job, and get shafted. i made allusions to how life is about how you treat the people who serve you (comparing, somehow, the marching band to waiters?) and then i started to cry about it. musicboy agreed with me, in principle if not in passion, and said "well, we'll keep showing up and doing what we do." and that's why i love the man.
but i was very offended for a while. and then that sort of morphed into just a general state of sadness about life and the world, combined with the tremendous sense of overwhelmageness i get every sunday because ohmygosh the week begins tomorrow and i am far from ready.
so yesterday was sort of rough, though i snapped myself out of it enough to have a pleasant enough afternoon until i ate three birthday cupcakes and my body said "oh thank you, idiot, now comes the feeling like death from sugar overload" (why can i not remember that?) and then a night of not sleeping well from back pain.
so, i just feel all off-kilter today, which may actually be an emotional byproduct of the fact that everything in my body is changing tremendously fast (though i see very little of it) and so i should probably just cut myself some slack. one of my three goals this week is to be kind to myself and listen to my body.
today, i think i will choose me.
that's hard for me to do, but i feel like it's important. sometimes you have to baby yourself emotionally by just giving yourself a break. when the world is too much, sometimes you have to just go home and watch matlock.
and schedule some time for some prenatal yoga (hooray for amazon dvds over the weekend).
sometimes life is hard work, you know?
you're welcome and happy monday to you as well.
i must have had some kind of serious spike in estrogen, or else Baby is the most empathetic soul on the planet and is thus channeling said Christ-like feeling through me, but i just cry at the drop of a hat on behalf of puppies, kittens, band members, and (of course) myself.
it's rather ridiculous, until i feel MIGHTILY.JUSTIFIED. about it, and then it seems VERY very important. like everyone should feel as i do that THAT WASN'T RIGHT and thus the world should bow in honor of my astute wisdom and justice.
yeah, i'll let you guess how often that happens.
why i compare it to PMS is that it seems to turn on a dime. one hour i'm feeling fine, the next i am sadfaced clown. it's kind of annoying, it's kind of ridiculous, it's a little bit funny when it isn't SO.VERY.SERIOUS, and i hope it ends soon.
this weekend was my birthday, and i got spoiled and then the second half of my birthday day i spent by myself watching my team lose. it was a rather depressing end to the day, and when my dear sweet musicboy came home and told me that, after losing, the football team didn't come over the band (as is their home game tradition) for the fight song and for the alma mater, the slow burn began.
at first i was like "not cool, man. not cool." but it was also midnight and i think because i had eaten not good food all day and been fighting a migraine all afternoon, i couldn't really get a fight too ferocious on.
that is, until the next morning, when i began to think about it some more and began to feel tremendously offended on behalf of all people everywhere who sacrifice for something, show up and do their job, and get shafted. i made allusions to how life is about how you treat the people who serve you (comparing, somehow, the marching band to waiters?) and then i started to cry about it. musicboy agreed with me, in principle if not in passion, and said "well, we'll keep showing up and doing what we do." and that's why i love the man.
but i was very offended for a while. and then that sort of morphed into just a general state of sadness about life and the world, combined with the tremendous sense of overwhelmageness i get every sunday because ohmygosh the week begins tomorrow and i am far from ready.
so yesterday was sort of rough, though i snapped myself out of it enough to have a pleasant enough afternoon until i ate three birthday cupcakes and my body said "oh thank you, idiot, now comes the feeling like death from sugar overload" (why can i not remember that?) and then a night of not sleeping well from back pain.
so, i just feel all off-kilter today, which may actually be an emotional byproduct of the fact that everything in my body is changing tremendously fast (though i see very little of it) and so i should probably just cut myself some slack. one of my three goals this week is to be kind to myself and listen to my body.
today, i think i will choose me.
that's hard for me to do, but i feel like it's important. sometimes you have to baby yourself emotionally by just giving yourself a break. when the world is too much, sometimes you have to just go home and watch matlock.
and schedule some time for some prenatal yoga (hooray for amazon dvds over the weekend).
sometimes life is hard work, you know?
Thursday, October 7, 2010
fast and furious.
i'm not angry, lest you think so from my title. i'm just...BUSY. so overwhelmed. but managing, sincerely because of the grace of God, and days like yesterday make me SO.GLAD. the first trimester is over because, though i do fall asleep rather early these days, i am not in desperate need of a nap every three hours and i can multitask again.
huzzah!
because i think it needs to be noted for posterity, yesterday i dipped a peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat bread into salsa, and it was good. then i ate entirely too many cheezits dipped in salsa. they were also good. today i ate carrots and cheezits dipped in salsa. also good. strange, odd, but good. whatever.
also, i'm hungry all the time and my jeans don't really fit anymore. while i know this is all good and baby-ful, it's also somewhat difficult for me when i see the scale creeping up and i am not sure whether it's because i can't keep myself from occasionally diving face first into some cheezits or it's because somewhere in there there's a baby that weighs 1.5 ounces (yeah. doesn't explain it, although the girls probably each weigh an extra pound each. you're welcome for that information.). i'm trying to be zen, but i also am trying to be smart.
sigh. carrots over cheezits. sometimes i just do my best and hope someone will make up the difference.
i believe that i legitimately have one million things to do. the piles of paper in my living room are multiplying, as they are wont to do toward the end of the week when i'm just trying to make it until saturday. however, there's no real rest on saturday so all that stuff needs to get done on today and friday. nevertheless, i might take a nap instead, because i'm beginning to wonder if it's ACTUALLY the end of the world if not all of them get done this week. i'm beginning to think, in fact, the answer is no.
i want to go to the gym but some days, like yesterday, i can't imagine when i would have done that. there's just no time. however, prenatal yoga and pilates dvds are coming in the mail soon, since my gym is suckage with the pregnancy-related classes (other than some water thing which i may eventually investigate but probably not because it's like during the times when people work for a living). that should help.
this is boring. i'm sorry, but as chaotic as this post is, my brain is 53x more chaotic.
i can't wait until this semester is over. i really just can't wait. maybe i need a countdown? about 9 weeks left, maybe? and next week there's a 3 day weekend. i can live for that. parades and homecoming and free pancakes i didn't have to make myself.
sounds like a plan.
huzzah!
because i think it needs to be noted for posterity, yesterday i dipped a peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat bread into salsa, and it was good. then i ate entirely too many cheezits dipped in salsa. they were also good. today i ate carrots and cheezits dipped in salsa. also good. strange, odd, but good. whatever.
also, i'm hungry all the time and my jeans don't really fit anymore. while i know this is all good and baby-ful, it's also somewhat difficult for me when i see the scale creeping up and i am not sure whether it's because i can't keep myself from occasionally diving face first into some cheezits or it's because somewhere in there there's a baby that weighs 1.5 ounces (yeah. doesn't explain it, although the girls probably each weigh an extra pound each. you're welcome for that information.). i'm trying to be zen, but i also am trying to be smart.
sigh. carrots over cheezits. sometimes i just do my best and hope someone will make up the difference.
i believe that i legitimately have one million things to do. the piles of paper in my living room are multiplying, as they are wont to do toward the end of the week when i'm just trying to make it until saturday. however, there's no real rest on saturday so all that stuff needs to get done on today and friday. nevertheless, i might take a nap instead, because i'm beginning to wonder if it's ACTUALLY the end of the world if not all of them get done this week. i'm beginning to think, in fact, the answer is no.
i want to go to the gym but some days, like yesterday, i can't imagine when i would have done that. there's just no time. however, prenatal yoga and pilates dvds are coming in the mail soon, since my gym is suckage with the pregnancy-related classes (other than some water thing which i may eventually investigate but probably not because it's like during the times when people work for a living). that should help.
this is boring. i'm sorry, but as chaotic as this post is, my brain is 53x more chaotic.
i can't wait until this semester is over. i really just can't wait. maybe i need a countdown? about 9 weeks left, maybe? and next week there's a 3 day weekend. i can live for that. parades and homecoming and free pancakes i didn't have to make myself.
sounds like a plan.
Monday, October 4, 2010
come listen to a prophet's voice.
this weekend, i spent eight hours on the couch.
(actually, more, but the eight hours were the best hours.)
i listened to the voice of the prophets and felt the Spirit of the Lord enter my heart, comfort me, and answer questions i'm not sure that i had even articulated. stephanie, over at diapers and divinity, sponsored a blog meme about conference. i was so glad to have read the questions before conference because it helped me pay attention to a few really important things (like ties! i'm joking...they're only sort of important).
here are my reflections:
1. Who were your three favorite speakers?
Elder Holland, President Uchtdorf, and probably President Ballard. The talks given by Elder Holland and President Uchtdorf were like two tandem answers to the same prinicpal question I've had for ages.
2. Favorite talk?
Elder Holland, by far. He made me cry, pretty much from the beginning, because I felt like the Spirit was telling me that he was talking to me.
3. Favorite hymn sung during Conference?
The Tabernacle Choir singing "We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet." Seriously moving. "Lead Kindly Light" was a serious contender as well.
4. Who wore the best tie?
Mad props to Elder Gong for his slammin' maroon patterned tie. I think a close second goes to Elder Bednar's blue striped tie.
5. Do you think conference had a “theme”?
Unlike last year, I am not sure that I really saw one, though my husband and I saw some repetition: the power of agency and the need to use it wisely, the importance of being diligent in the simple things, and the eternal significance of heeding the prophets.
6. Share a few of your favorite quotes (paraphrasing is fine).
I loved President Uchtdorf's connection between ambitions and albatrosses. I loved most everything Elder Holland said. I especially loved Elder Scott's quote: "we become what we want to be by consistently being what we want to become each day." like, wow.
7. Something that made you smile during conference.
President Uchtdorf, upon losing his voice, riffing that "it's a fundamental thing that I need." Awesome. I love that man.
8. Any evidence that your children paid attention?
Well, I only have a fetus, but I was much less sleepy than normal--I don't think I drifted off once, though I wanted to. Good job, fetus! :)
9. If you had to give a talk in General Conference (don’t faint, this is hypothetical), what do you think you’d speak about?
Enduring well. That small things really do make up great things. That everybody can do small things. That we are better at what we do than we think.
10. What are some of your post-conference goals?
Oh my gosh. Two words, really: simplification and focus. I've been lost in a sea of crazy chaos for the past few months, and I'm just done with it. I'm ready to turn off the noise in my life, focus on the most important things, and diligently try to do my best in them. I won't be perfect, but I know I'll be blessed.
those of you who watched--what did you love? what did you notice?
(actually, more, but the eight hours were the best hours.)
i listened to the voice of the prophets and felt the Spirit of the Lord enter my heart, comfort me, and answer questions i'm not sure that i had even articulated. stephanie, over at diapers and divinity, sponsored a blog meme about conference. i was so glad to have read the questions before conference because it helped me pay attention to a few really important things (like ties! i'm joking...they're only sort of important).
here are my reflections:
1. Who were your three favorite speakers?
Elder Holland, President Uchtdorf, and probably President Ballard. The talks given by Elder Holland and President Uchtdorf were like two tandem answers to the same prinicpal question I've had for ages.
2. Favorite talk?
Elder Holland, by far. He made me cry, pretty much from the beginning, because I felt like the Spirit was telling me that he was talking to me.
3. Favorite hymn sung during Conference?
The Tabernacle Choir singing "We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet." Seriously moving. "Lead Kindly Light" was a serious contender as well.
4. Who wore the best tie?
Mad props to Elder Gong for his slammin' maroon patterned tie. I think a close second goes to Elder Bednar's blue striped tie.
5. Do you think conference had a “theme”?
Unlike last year, I am not sure that I really saw one, though my husband and I saw some repetition: the power of agency and the need to use it wisely, the importance of being diligent in the simple things, and the eternal significance of heeding the prophets.
6. Share a few of your favorite quotes (paraphrasing is fine).
I loved President Uchtdorf's connection between ambitions and albatrosses. I loved most everything Elder Holland said. I especially loved Elder Scott's quote: "we become what we want to be by consistently being what we want to become each day." like, wow.
7. Something that made you smile during conference.
President Uchtdorf, upon losing his voice, riffing that "it's a fundamental thing that I need." Awesome. I love that man.
8. Any evidence that your children paid attention?
Well, I only have a fetus, but I was much less sleepy than normal--I don't think I drifted off once, though I wanted to. Good job, fetus! :)
9. If you had to give a talk in General Conference (don’t faint, this is hypothetical), what do you think you’d speak about?
Enduring well. That small things really do make up great things. That everybody can do small things. That we are better at what we do than we think.
10. What are some of your post-conference goals?
Oh my gosh. Two words, really: simplification and focus. I've been lost in a sea of crazy chaos for the past few months, and I'm just done with it. I'm ready to turn off the noise in my life, focus on the most important things, and diligently try to do my best in them. I won't be perfect, but I know I'll be blessed.
those of you who watched--what did you love? what did you notice?
week 13: dream a little dream of me.
once upon a time, i read an old wives' tale about how if you dream about one gender, it means that you're having the opposite. upon trying to find said website, i can't find it and everything that i have found indicates that, actually, your dreams have no meaning whatsoever.
but last night's meant something to me, only because it was my first about our Baby.
he was a boy (which is the prevailing wisdom in our extended family, though i have no idea). he was beautiful and i was amazed at how advanced he was. i mean, the kid was super newborn but was walking and talking in full sentences. i remember saying to musicboy in my dreams "look at him! he's walking and talking!" and thinking how fast he was developing.
(hmm. perhaps a bit of a reflection of the pregnancy itself?)
but the kid wouldn't eat. i was breastfeeding in the dream, and the kid had the worst attention span EVER. it wasn't that he was having trouble eating or that he couldn't or that i couldn't--it was that he would eat for like two minutes and then be JUST! SO! EXCITED! about life that he would have to go run around and do other things.
it was kind of adorable, in a perplexing mother-anxious way. i just kept thinking "this kid really does need to eat" but also looking at him like he was the cutest thing in the whole world. it reminded me of musicboy, and i think i thought "wow. you're distractable like your daddy."
it was sort of awesome, rather comforting, and exciting if only because i was a mommy and there was a Baby and he was cute, healthy, and smart. i felt peace, even amid the non-eating, and that was nice.
i've heard lots of things about having nightmares about the baby. i think i've already had one or two. but this one? this was peace. this was lovely.
i hope it's a sign of things to come.
(although, girl or boy, i'll be happy. i know that annoys some people (hi, saf!), but it's really true. i always thought i'd have a preference. i'm trying not to even think about it, because whoever this Baby is, this Baby is ours. it doesn't matter at all. although, we are in more agreement about girl names than we are about boy. i haven't even really been able to think about boy names. which means, i think, that this Baby is a boy--that would be so typical. :) )
but last night's meant something to me, only because it was my first about our Baby.
he was a boy (which is the prevailing wisdom in our extended family, though i have no idea). he was beautiful and i was amazed at how advanced he was. i mean, the kid was super newborn but was walking and talking in full sentences. i remember saying to musicboy in my dreams "look at him! he's walking and talking!" and thinking how fast he was developing.
(hmm. perhaps a bit of a reflection of the pregnancy itself?)
but the kid wouldn't eat. i was breastfeeding in the dream, and the kid had the worst attention span EVER. it wasn't that he was having trouble eating or that he couldn't or that i couldn't--it was that he would eat for like two minutes and then be JUST! SO! EXCITED! about life that he would have to go run around and do other things.
it was kind of adorable, in a perplexing mother-anxious way. i just kept thinking "this kid really does need to eat" but also looking at him like he was the cutest thing in the whole world. it reminded me of musicboy, and i think i thought "wow. you're distractable like your daddy."
it was sort of awesome, rather comforting, and exciting if only because i was a mommy and there was a Baby and he was cute, healthy, and smart. i felt peace, even amid the non-eating, and that was nice.
i've heard lots of things about having nightmares about the baby. i think i've already had one or two. but this one? this was peace. this was lovely.
i hope it's a sign of things to come.
(although, girl or boy, i'll be happy. i know that annoys some people (hi, saf!), but it's really true. i always thought i'd have a preference. i'm trying not to even think about it, because whoever this Baby is, this Baby is ours. it doesn't matter at all. although, we are in more agreement about girl names than we are about boy. i haven't even really been able to think about boy names. which means, i think, that this Baby is a boy--that would be so typical. :) )
Saturday, October 2, 2010
plates and road rage.
i'm starting to really resent the mashed potatoes that are pushing against the peas that are all mixed up in the salad that's all over the meatloaf on my metaphorical life plate.
(how's that for a beginning?)
sometimes, the peas annoy me because i come to class every day, despite often feeling like crap, and people are annoying or don't try or don't read directions or read at all or always want to ask questions that i've already answered or never ask questions or quibble with me about little things or make me nuts with their attitudes. sometimes the peas fail an exam that i explained in great detail (including everything that would be on it) and i begin to rant about what's even the point when you don't even try?
sometimes the potatoes annoy me because they're always there, like a looming mound about to fall on my head. i always have something to do, which isn't bad because it keeps me out of trouble, but begins to annoy me because i never really have a break. i have these self-induced breaks where i fall asleep on the couch or choose to watch project runway instead of doing the work, but those are always followed by a short of small shake of the head recognizing that, in another time and place, i would have done better.
sometimes the meatloaf annoys me because, you know, dishes don't ever go away unless you do them and the laundry never really ever gets finished because unless you're naked when you do it, there's about to be something else in the hamper. the house doesn't get picked up by itself and, much as i wish i was someone who didn't care, i do and it makes me just a little shade of crazy. but i can't muster the energy or inclination to really do much about it except once a week.
you get the idea.
but you know what i really think? it annoys me that these things annoy me. i made my bed. i am the one who signed up for eight classes and, while i didn't know that i would also be pregnant, i could have done more to prepare. i could do more every day. but even if i didn't do more or prepare more, i could be grateful more.
these are the jobs that are keeping us afloat. they are a 100% windfall indication of how much we are cared for and loved. we are being watched over, not only because of the presence of these jobs, but also because i am always blessed with the capacity to get things done. when it seems most unlikely, that's when the miracles happen.
so it sort of annoys me that i am annoyed, because i should be more grateful.
but when i go to class on friday afternoon, i am really nothing but annoyed. it usually goes away, depending on how well class goes, but that walk from the car to the building? not fun.
i may just resign myself to that fact.
--
i think i am a slow pregnant person, because the mood swings have just now completely settled in. when i drive, i am sure to meet the 50 most idiotic people on the planet...every single time. and, you know, logically--that just doesn't make sense. because, really, what are the odds?
nope. it's me. if you are the dipstick who rides in front of me on your bike like you own the road, i'm going to comment. if you do anything in your car that i deem slightly annoying, i will comment. and i will likely comment often and quite loudly.
it seems to be, pretty much, confined to the car so far. i seem to be able to muzzle it everywhere else. don't worry: i'm still a safe driver. i don't do anything different--except yell a little.
also, i feel inclined to sit down and cry when i'm having a rough day. and rough day can be defined as any number of things that in normal situations i would take with a grain of salt and brush past as if they mattered not.
essentially, i am a 4 year old. which is good, because me and Baby will be able to hang out and bond since we'll be basically at the same developmental level.
sigh.
(how's that for a beginning?)
sometimes, the peas annoy me because i come to class every day, despite often feeling like crap, and people are annoying or don't try or don't read directions or read at all or always want to ask questions that i've already answered or never ask questions or quibble with me about little things or make me nuts with their attitudes. sometimes the peas fail an exam that i explained in great detail (including everything that would be on it) and i begin to rant about what's even the point when you don't even try?
sometimes the potatoes annoy me because they're always there, like a looming mound about to fall on my head. i always have something to do, which isn't bad because it keeps me out of trouble, but begins to annoy me because i never really have a break. i have these self-induced breaks where i fall asleep on the couch or choose to watch project runway instead of doing the work, but those are always followed by a short of small shake of the head recognizing that, in another time and place, i would have done better.
sometimes the meatloaf annoys me because, you know, dishes don't ever go away unless you do them and the laundry never really ever gets finished because unless you're naked when you do it, there's about to be something else in the hamper. the house doesn't get picked up by itself and, much as i wish i was someone who didn't care, i do and it makes me just a little shade of crazy. but i can't muster the energy or inclination to really do much about it except once a week.
you get the idea.
but you know what i really think? it annoys me that these things annoy me. i made my bed. i am the one who signed up for eight classes and, while i didn't know that i would also be pregnant, i could have done more to prepare. i could do more every day. but even if i didn't do more or prepare more, i could be grateful more.
these are the jobs that are keeping us afloat. they are a 100% windfall indication of how much we are cared for and loved. we are being watched over, not only because of the presence of these jobs, but also because i am always blessed with the capacity to get things done. when it seems most unlikely, that's when the miracles happen.
so it sort of annoys me that i am annoyed, because i should be more grateful.
but when i go to class on friday afternoon, i am really nothing but annoyed. it usually goes away, depending on how well class goes, but that walk from the car to the building? not fun.
i may just resign myself to that fact.
--
i think i am a slow pregnant person, because the mood swings have just now completely settled in. when i drive, i am sure to meet the 50 most idiotic people on the planet...every single time. and, you know, logically--that just doesn't make sense. because, really, what are the odds?
nope. it's me. if you are the dipstick who rides in front of me on your bike like you own the road, i'm going to comment. if you do anything in your car that i deem slightly annoying, i will comment. and i will likely comment often and quite loudly.
it seems to be, pretty much, confined to the car so far. i seem to be able to muzzle it everywhere else. don't worry: i'm still a safe driver. i don't do anything different--except yell a little.
also, i feel inclined to sit down and cry when i'm having a rough day. and rough day can be defined as any number of things that in normal situations i would take with a grain of salt and brush past as if they mattered not.
essentially, i am a 4 year old. which is good, because me and Baby will be able to hang out and bond since we'll be basically at the same developmental level.
sigh.
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