Do you ever laugh so hard you cry? I do....often. I might have to start wearing a Depends to lunch because my ever expanding uterus and growing fetus tend to push down on my bladder at the most inopportune moments. My high school friends,especially those of us who walked home from school, can vouch for the fact that I have been know to pee my pants from laughing too hard... I am not sure what the view is on 35 year old women having a shoebox filled with a change of clothes to change into in the event of an accident at work. I already have extra underwear, but I digress to a story from a few years back that I have the right to reserve for another time.
Last week, me and the girls were having our typical lunch convo: vibrators, shaving versus Brazilian, the undercarriage...yup...we are filthy animals... but girls will be girls.... From what I understand, someone a friend of ours takes classes with thought we were related somehow since we were so honest and close with each other...apparently not everyone talks about such things at work....and after work....and on Facebook....and during girls' weekends....
In any case, whatever we were saying sent us into fits of laughter. This particular day saw the Faculty room packed. As social as a Faculty room is, do not be mistaken; we are not all engaged in conversation together, nor are people sitting around smoking butts like they used to when my I was in elementary school (I thought it was so cool/intriguing when the teachers would walk out of the Faculty room followed by plumes of smoke...such an aura of mystery!). There are two long tables which are not exactly conducive to social conversation and in all honesty, not everyone likes each other. I am sure that not everyone appreciated the guffaws, belly laughs and the possible threat of public urination being expelled from our section of the room, let alone the discussion of hair (down there) that we were having. I mean, it was a meal time! BUT, as intriguing as those plumes of smoke were to me 25 years ago, our conversation did spark some curiosity in some of our colleagues.
While meeting with my team the next day, one of the women who was present for lunch the day prior asked, "Now what was so funny??? I was discussing difficult students and lesson plans, but you girls looked like you were having the best time!"
ME: "You really want to know?"
HER: "YES!!"
ME: "Vibrators and shaving our privates."
HER: "I am way too serious! I am sitting at your end of the table next time. But the only Brazilian I am getting is above my neck!"
New recruits are always welcome!!! I hope they are not offended if I have to change my diaper.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Is Irresponsible the New Responsible?
http://www.robertasrebornbabies.com/page0081.aspx
This website creeped me out. I was searching up “infant sized doll” and this was hit number one. Roberta clearly pays top dollar to be first. Josh and I are taking a baby care class in a few weeks so that he can have some exposure to changing a diaper, and the doll, in addition to 40 bucks and 2 hours of a Sunday, are required. I am sure that it will be a worthwhile class, but as I have been saying all along, women around the world squat, push, birth and go back to toiling in a field. Americans: we need classes and mega stores and baby nurses to do something that should theoretically be programmed in our genes to do. FYI: I am registered at Buy Buy Baby…
As I attempt to be responsible and locate a doll for the class we are not taking until February 13th, I cannot help but wonder if I will instill this sense of responsibility, perhaps a bit obsessive at times, in my daughter. I am probably diagnose-able in the DSMIV, yet aren’t we all? But, I have a list of errands for everyday of the week, plus calendar notes in my phone for things I know I will need down the road. Crazy or super organized? I go with the former…
Why am I thinking about this? The push this year in my circle of education is SEL…social emotional learning. In a nutshell, each month, we take a time out from state mandated academics to tap base (a touch would be too generous when discussing allotments of time spent) and discuss basic topics such as empathy and responsibility. All well and good, right? The flaw in this well intentioned plan is that we are discussing these ideals with tweens. These kids come to us with years of experience behind them as well as their parents’ strong influence impacting their thoughts, beliefs, and actions. Twelve to thirteen years is a long time to gather information, yet my students are not old enough to really think independently. For 35 minutes, they might be able to talk the talk, but it the minority of true gems who also walk the walk. You want proof? Come visit me at work for the 3 minutes between class changes to see how well these lessons are not internalized.
Here is a perfect example of how responsibility is just a thing of the past. One of my students consistently crosses the lines with adults, primarily female, with his constant disrespect and interferes with the learning of others, yet when called out on his behaviors, his responds with “It wasn’t me”, “You hate me”, “It was so and so…” We have probably logged hours of emails and phone calls home his parents who twist and turn every incident on the teachers, the school, the dean, the other students. In fact, one teacher called home reporting on disrespectful behavior worthy of detention (by detention we mean show up for 10 minutes) and the father said “It’s not my fault he acts this way!” Ummmm…I am not one to do in depth research, but buddy, I think you just proved otherwise. This frightens me as a teacher, a citizen of a country that I believe is going downhill fast, and as an almost mother. When will people take responsibility for themselves and their actions?
While discussing this with colleagues, my in utero child was bopping around like Baby in the dirty dancing room at Kellermans. Was she agreeing with us? Was she already rebelling? The only way to teach responsibility is to be responsible. Responsibility ranges in intensity for me. For example, my husband is responsible for putting down the toilet seat so that my cat doesn’t play with the water in the bowl and to prevent my ass from an unwanted bidet situation. My students are responsible for completing assignments on time. I am responsible for paying the bills. And so on. In my advancing age, I have become a staunch advocate of returning shopping carts to their respective locations. The other night at Trader Joes, I did just that. Well, imagine my shock when a woman parked facing me, but to the left, pointed at the cart left haphazardly between my car, her car, and the car directly in front of her but next to me, then pointed me and shook her head!!!! Was she fucking kidding me????? I am assuming that based on my youthful appearance, she assumed I was the irresponsible asshole who left the cart between our cars. But you know what? She was the asshole…all judgmental and clearly not that invested in her belief that the cart should be moved elsewhere because guess who got into her car and drove off??? Non pregnant me would possibly have gotten out of the car to scream at her (SEE: DSMIV: anger management issues/repressed anger issues), but for the sake of my unborn child’s stress level, I just laughed at how easily some people throw holier than thou stones.
Take responsibility people….it’s good for you.
This website creeped me out. I was searching up “infant sized doll” and this was hit number one. Roberta clearly pays top dollar to be first. Josh and I are taking a baby care class in a few weeks so that he can have some exposure to changing a diaper, and the doll, in addition to 40 bucks and 2 hours of a Sunday, are required. I am sure that it will be a worthwhile class, but as I have been saying all along, women around the world squat, push, birth and go back to toiling in a field. Americans: we need classes and mega stores and baby nurses to do something that should theoretically be programmed in our genes to do. FYI: I am registered at Buy Buy Baby…
As I attempt to be responsible and locate a doll for the class we are not taking until February 13th, I cannot help but wonder if I will instill this sense of responsibility, perhaps a bit obsessive at times, in my daughter. I am probably diagnose-able in the DSMIV, yet aren’t we all? But, I have a list of errands for everyday of the week, plus calendar notes in my phone for things I know I will need down the road. Crazy or super organized? I go with the former…
Why am I thinking about this? The push this year in my circle of education is SEL…social emotional learning. In a nutshell, each month, we take a time out from state mandated academics to tap base (a touch would be too generous when discussing allotments of time spent) and discuss basic topics such as empathy and responsibility. All well and good, right? The flaw in this well intentioned plan is that we are discussing these ideals with tweens. These kids come to us with years of experience behind them as well as their parents’ strong influence impacting their thoughts, beliefs, and actions. Twelve to thirteen years is a long time to gather information, yet my students are not old enough to really think independently. For 35 minutes, they might be able to talk the talk, but it the minority of true gems who also walk the walk. You want proof? Come visit me at work for the 3 minutes between class changes to see how well these lessons are not internalized.
Here is a perfect example of how responsibility is just a thing of the past. One of my students consistently crosses the lines with adults, primarily female, with his constant disrespect and interferes with the learning of others, yet when called out on his behaviors, his responds with “It wasn’t me”, “You hate me”, “It was so and so…” We have probably logged hours of emails and phone calls home his parents who twist and turn every incident on the teachers, the school, the dean, the other students. In fact, one teacher called home reporting on disrespectful behavior worthy of detention (by detention we mean show up for 10 minutes) and the father said “It’s not my fault he acts this way!” Ummmm…I am not one to do in depth research, but buddy, I think you just proved otherwise. This frightens me as a teacher, a citizen of a country that I believe is going downhill fast, and as an almost mother. When will people take responsibility for themselves and their actions?
While discussing this with colleagues, my in utero child was bopping around like Baby in the dirty dancing room at Kellermans. Was she agreeing with us? Was she already rebelling? The only way to teach responsibility is to be responsible. Responsibility ranges in intensity for me. For example, my husband is responsible for putting down the toilet seat so that my cat doesn’t play with the water in the bowl and to prevent my ass from an unwanted bidet situation. My students are responsible for completing assignments on time. I am responsible for paying the bills. And so on. In my advancing age, I have become a staunch advocate of returning shopping carts to their respective locations. The other night at Trader Joes, I did just that. Well, imagine my shock when a woman parked facing me, but to the left, pointed at the cart left haphazardly between my car, her car, and the car directly in front of her but next to me, then pointed me and shook her head!!!! Was she fucking kidding me????? I am assuming that based on my youthful appearance, she assumed I was the irresponsible asshole who left the cart between our cars. But you know what? She was the asshole…all judgmental and clearly not that invested in her belief that the cart should be moved elsewhere because guess who got into her car and drove off??? Non pregnant me would possibly have gotten out of the car to scream at her (SEE: DSMIV: anger management issues/repressed anger issues), but for the sake of my unborn child’s stress level, I just laughed at how easily some people throw holier than thou stones.
Take responsibility people….it’s good for you.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Mother??
In 12 weeks, I will be a mother. Some say you become a mother as soon as you are pregnant, and perhaps that is true, but as of now, it is just me that I have to get dressed in the morning, shower and feed. Obviously, Josh is there too, but I don't dress him, bathe him nor feed him in that very literal sense. That would be creepy. And weird. While I am very excited to meet my daughter (unless they tell me otherwise at my next doctor's appointment), I am also petrified. Here is a list of what keeps me up at night:
1. Bringing the baby home. I know others far less responsible than me, and their kids are still alive and kicking. I just think that for the last 35 years, it has just been me walking in that door. When Josh, baby and I walk in together, it will be the start of something very new.
2. What if my cats bug out and piss everywhere? All of you cat haters are saying "then you will just get rid of them", but I will never forgive myself if I see their little faces on one of those ASPCA commercials montaged to the tune of "In the Arms of the Angels" by Sarah McGloglin or however the hell you spell her name.
3. My husband. I love Josh. He has many great qualities, but he does tend to forget things. What if he forgets the baby in the car, or leaves her home while I am out? We have enrolled in a child care class primarily so he can get a crash course in diapers, feedings, etc. The basics. I needed Josh to put the Swiffer pad on the Swiffer since my nails were still drying. Sheba sat there staring at him. I swear that if she could speak, she would have said "If I had thumbs, that shit would have been done ten times over." Hence, I felt that the child care class will be worthwhile time and money spent.
4. What if I look like Walter Hudson? I have gained weight. You are supposed to. I am not a complete animal, but I definitely have embraced carbs after a long hiatus away from them. One friend commented about the point of my going to the gym if I have already gained x amount of pounds (UMMMM......it's part of my day, I enjoy it, it's good for your physical and mental health, I can kick your ass...), while others have said I look great, the weight is just in my belly and maintaining my workouts will only make things easier during labor and after when I can go back to really working out (READ: HEARTRATE ABOVE 140 BPMS, sweaty everything). To those people, both friends and gym class instructors, I love you and thank you!!! BUT, what if my 35 year old body decides to give me the finger and I still look pregnant 3 months later??? UGGGG!!! But, if Jennifer Hudson can do it on Weight Watchers, so can I. WARNING: I will be miserable without the carbs, but I am a bitch anyway, so deal.
5. What if my daughter is a bitch like me? Then I suppose my parents "wish" came true. Flashback: During any particularly awful teenage argument, my parents yelling back "Someday we hope you have a kid just like you!!!!"
6. A giant, stretched out vaj and the ability to be a stand-in for National Geographic photo shoots. I will just leave it at that....
I think that with anything new, there is a level of fear/anxiety/diarrhea. I will make it through this with the help of Effexor and wine, supportive family and friends, and the occasional good cry. And you will all get to travel the road with me, provided I manage to get my ass on the blog circuit every now and again.
1. Bringing the baby home. I know others far less responsible than me, and their kids are still alive and kicking. I just think that for the last 35 years, it has just been me walking in that door. When Josh, baby and I walk in together, it will be the start of something very new.
2. What if my cats bug out and piss everywhere? All of you cat haters are saying "then you will just get rid of them", but I will never forgive myself if I see their little faces on one of those ASPCA commercials montaged to the tune of "In the Arms of the Angels" by Sarah McGloglin or however the hell you spell her name.
3. My husband. I love Josh. He has many great qualities, but he does tend to forget things. What if he forgets the baby in the car, or leaves her home while I am out? We have enrolled in a child care class primarily so he can get a crash course in diapers, feedings, etc. The basics. I needed Josh to put the Swiffer pad on the Swiffer since my nails were still drying. Sheba sat there staring at him. I swear that if she could speak, she would have said "If I had thumbs, that shit would have been done ten times over." Hence, I felt that the child care class will be worthwhile time and money spent.
4. What if I look like Walter Hudson? I have gained weight. You are supposed to. I am not a complete animal, but I definitely have embraced carbs after a long hiatus away from them. One friend commented about the point of my going to the gym if I have already gained x amount of pounds (UMMMM......it's part of my day, I enjoy it, it's good for your physical and mental health, I can kick your ass...), while others have said I look great, the weight is just in my belly and maintaining my workouts will only make things easier during labor and after when I can go back to really working out (READ: HEARTRATE ABOVE 140 BPMS, sweaty everything). To those people, both friends and gym class instructors, I love you and thank you!!! BUT, what if my 35 year old body decides to give me the finger and I still look pregnant 3 months later??? UGGGG!!! But, if Jennifer Hudson can do it on Weight Watchers, so can I. WARNING: I will be miserable without the carbs, but I am a bitch anyway, so deal.
5. What if my daughter is a bitch like me? Then I suppose my parents "wish" came true. Flashback: During any particularly awful teenage argument, my parents yelling back "Someday we hope you have a kid just like you!!!!"
6. A giant, stretched out vaj and the ability to be a stand-in for National Geographic photo shoots. I will just leave it at that....
I think that with anything new, there is a level of fear/anxiety/diarrhea. I will make it through this with the help of Effexor and wine, supportive family and friends, and the occasional good cry. And you will all get to travel the road with me, provided I manage to get my ass on the blog circuit every now and again.
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