I feel like, so far, the key to being pregnant is basically this:
-stay away from toxic things and stuff
-sleep when you need to (because you can get away with it)
-don't eat raw stuff
-drink too much water
-and use every chance you get to make your man (or woman) go get you things.
Before this marvelous realization, I was the girl downloading the 'What To Expect..' App and hovering over my phone screen soaking up every bit of info I could get my squinty, watery, hungry eyes on. Now, with how enormous I feel, I could care less as long as I still feel this baby moving and I'm not dying.
And to tell you the truth, I feel no shame. No shame at all.
I had 4 Italian ice popsicles last night within 30 minutes. No. Shame.
So, the pregnancy panic attack was a big fat waste of energy, seeing as how I needed a refill on that like...two months ago.
*burp*
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Monday, April 20, 2015
pink or blue
Sure it's fun to find out but I'm suddenly seeing the root of the problem with gender stereotyping/gender equality battle in this whole 'gender announcement' fad that's been going on for a few decades. I mean. Back in the early 1990's, there wasn't such a thing as a gender announcement party, it was basically just... "we're having a boy" ...."That's great, guys! But, seriously, what's for dinner?". These days, everything is IMMEDIATELY showered with either PINK or BLUE cupcakes/balloons/nurseries and that's the deciding factor in who that child will eventually think he or she should be; a model in the image of whichever side their genitals are on. Pink ... or blue. There is NO in-between! What a sinister thing to imply on a person when they haven't even formed the ability to speak for themselves yet. "She'll love this PINK mobile! AND this PINK GLITTER UNICORN." Jesus... no wonder oppression exists! I grew up with lego trucks, Barbie dolls, AND WORMS (because that's what ANY kid plays with when given the option) and I feel like BECAUSE of that I have a deeper understanding of why people feel anxious, scared, alone and trapped. I'm able to help people like that BECAUSE (thankfully) a predestined identity was NOT laid out in front of me like 'THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO ....BECAUSE GIRLS'. The bigger side to that statement is that my mother did not enforce that logic at HOME, even though in today's society it's nearly impossible to avoid trends, being alive and in school of any kind, and media.
Unless you are the lucky souls who built your own tree-cottage and never have to shave a day in your life ever again. Sigh.
PLEASE DO NOT MISTAKE ME. I am NOT removing myself from the grips of self-imposed social angst. There are those of us humans who have decided to live outside these standards on their own or from infancy, and I ADMIRE these people with fierce curiosity. BUT, as I stated I had a mother who let me roam the wonders of life without gender pressures of any kind, I also state that I am NOT immune to the pressures of society's fabricated gender expectations. The past few years have been a constant I don't feel feminine in this shirt, man, she's attractive because she looks delicate, like a flower, Pinterest Search: how to look like a flower, or the inevitable will this guy run away screaming when he sees me in these doc martins and plaid shirt?... we've all been there at some point, and I'm saying I do it without even realizing myself and where I came from. It's a TOUGH battle to fight! I was that kid who was comfortable being 'cool', unusual me until boobs and baseball bats appeared, and in what seemed like the snap of my fingers the world around me became eat - or be eaten. Suddenly pink or blue were my only options and it took me forever to understand why I felt like I wasn't really 'cool'.
And then it was time for Highschool, where it was either pink, blue, or just plain odd. And now I realize a big part of why that hierarchy exists.
I mean this may sound like I'm the last one to show up to the gender equality discussion but... BABIES ARE PEOPLE. They are the vessels who will walk through the halls of Whatever High School getting pencils and milk cartons thrown at them. HOW does helplessness, dependency or ....infancy in general give people tickets to puke their societal expectations ALL OVER these children and not feel a single twinge of guilt for it when their 12 year old boy is cutting himself because boys at school call him gay for being in dance classes and liking the color purple? He's feeling like if only he were into 'guy things' he'd be fine. Later these parents will say, "be whoever you want to be" OR (in my part of the country) they'll most likely say, "get them queer eyes off me and outta my house." But if the earliest stages of their lives were cram-packed with pink princess gowns or trucks, ducks, and guns... how will they be able to TRULY follow their own path if they feel like theirs is WRONG? In the back of their minds they'll always think, no... this is what men should do/this is what women should look like. From the beginnings of our consciousness all we know is that girls play with Barbies and boys drive trucks.....unless you are blessed with parents who, for whatever reason, do not enforce this red-or-blue-pill mentality inside your home-life atmosphere. The killer is that a lot of parents have no idea that it's happeningHow. Scary.
What I'm saying is that the very second a child notices that they are unusual or singular in their nature they start to feel like they live inside a bubble that never breaks, or a never-ending storybook in which they are the outcast and everyone knows it... even their own family. Young people who feel this on a day-to-day, 24 hour basis are 9 out of 10 times not going to open up to ANYONE about emotional and mental anxieties or issues, leading to a much higher risk of turning to addictions, crime, and worst of all, suicide. It has been referred to countless times as 'a prison without bars'. However, if there is a strong sense of release, acceptance, and encouragement of originality in some aspect of a child's life there lies a place in their minds that they know they can count on, that they trust, and it will ultimately save their lives in a sense. It's so hard to be certain of things in an ever-changing, constantly evolving habitat and the goal is to create that one solid refuge for any walk of life, so that there is a greater chance for growth, peace with the surroundings, and an irrefutable grace and confidence that makes being different... just.. beautiful. I cannot stress the word victim enough when describing what it feels like to be analyzed, picked apart, and judged by a child who's age you share who 'seems' to have no problems with fitting in or growing up in a strange world that sits on top of you that you know nothing about. There is truly nothing like it, and there shouldn't have to be so many people who carry those memories with them.
It should be, in my not-so-humble opinion... any color of the dadgum rainbow you bloody well want. Funny though, pink isn't even a secondary or tertiary color. It's what's considered 'theoretical'. You might even say that it's .....an outsider.... :)
Unless you are the lucky souls who built your own tree-cottage and never have to shave a day in your life ever again. Sigh.
PLEASE DO NOT MISTAKE ME. I am NOT removing myself from the grips of self-imposed social angst. There are those of us humans who have decided to live outside these standards on their own or from infancy, and I ADMIRE these people with fierce curiosity. BUT, as I stated I had a mother who let me roam the wonders of life without gender pressures of any kind, I also state that I am NOT immune to the pressures of society's fabricated gender expectations. The past few years have been a constant I don't feel feminine in this shirt, man, she's attractive because she looks delicate, like a flower, Pinterest Search: how to look like a flower, or the inevitable will this guy run away screaming when he sees me in these doc martins and plaid shirt?... we've all been there at some point, and I'm saying I do it without even realizing myself and where I came from. It's a TOUGH battle to fight! I was that kid who was comfortable being 'cool', unusual me until boobs and baseball bats appeared, and in what seemed like the snap of my fingers the world around me became eat - or be eaten. Suddenly pink or blue were my only options and it took me forever to understand why I felt like I wasn't really 'cool'.
And then it was time for Highschool, where it was either pink, blue, or just plain odd. And now I realize a big part of why that hierarchy exists.
I mean this may sound like I'm the last one to show up to the gender equality discussion but... BABIES ARE PEOPLE. They are the vessels who will walk through the halls of Whatever High School getting pencils and milk cartons thrown at them. HOW does helplessness, dependency or ....infancy in general give people tickets to puke their societal expectations ALL OVER these children and not feel a single twinge of guilt for it when their 12 year old boy is cutting himself because boys at school call him gay for being in dance classes and liking the color purple? He's feeling like if only he were into 'guy things' he'd be fine. Later these parents will say, "be whoever you want to be" OR (in my part of the country) they'll most likely say, "get them queer eyes off me and outta my house." But if the earliest stages of their lives were cram-packed with pink princess gowns or trucks, ducks, and guns... how will they be able to TRULY follow their own path if they feel like theirs is WRONG? In the back of their minds they'll always think, no... this is what men should do/this is what women should look like. From the beginnings of our consciousness all we know is that girls play with Barbies and boys drive trucks.....unless you are blessed with parents who, for whatever reason, do not enforce this red-or-blue-pill mentality inside your home-life atmosphere. The killer is that a lot of parents have no idea that it's happeningHow. Scary.
What I'm saying is that the very second a child notices that they are unusual or singular in their nature they start to feel like they live inside a bubble that never breaks, or a never-ending storybook in which they are the outcast and everyone knows it... even their own family. Young people who feel this on a day-to-day, 24 hour basis are 9 out of 10 times not going to open up to ANYONE about emotional and mental anxieties or issues, leading to a much higher risk of turning to addictions, crime, and worst of all, suicide. It has been referred to countless times as 'a prison without bars'. However, if there is a strong sense of release, acceptance, and encouragement of originality in some aspect of a child's life there lies a place in their minds that they know they can count on, that they trust, and it will ultimately save their lives in a sense. It's so hard to be certain of things in an ever-changing, constantly evolving habitat and the goal is to create that one solid refuge for any walk of life, so that there is a greater chance for growth, peace with the surroundings, and an irrefutable grace and confidence that makes being different... just.. beautiful. I cannot stress the word victim enough when describing what it feels like to be analyzed, picked apart, and judged by a child who's age you share who 'seems' to have no problems with fitting in or growing up in a strange world that sits on top of you that you know nothing about. There is truly nothing like it, and there shouldn't have to be so many people who carry those memories with them.
It should be, in my not-so-humble opinion... any color of the dadgum rainbow you bloody well want. Funny though, pink isn't even a secondary or tertiary color. It's what's considered 'theoretical'. You might even say that it's .....an outsider.... :)
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
we don't do that anymore
Why are government offices such bitches? I've had my fill of one office telling me one thing, and the other office saying they don't do that anymore, then the other office referring me to someone who also doesn't do that anymore...OOOOOOMAMA.
Either way, this being preggers thing is for the birds when it comes to fatigue. BUT it keeps me organized, makes me disciplined, and magically persuades my lovely man to clean house for me. (:
That's just icing on the cake. Now I need to start working on my "will you rub my aching feet" routine. Ackackacka
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
don't make me adult
Medicaid?
I honestly never thought I'd need to lean on Medicaid for help, but here we are. AND it turns out these people don't communicate well with the other case workers in their OWN OFFICES. SUCH a FUCKING headache.
I digress. Getting to a doctor has proven an obstacle with a difficulty level of: sitting through Citizen Kane. For all I know, There could be twins in there. Or a goat.... I don't know. I mean, I feel healthy.... THIS ISN'T WHAT BLOGS ARE FOR...
To be honest with myself and the one person who's possibly reading this, I don't actually know how to blog at all. It feels like a diary right now because no one is listening. I have zero advice skills, no hobbies that I'm dedicated to (at least not any that haven't been beaten to death on Pinterest), and especially not enough life experience to sneeze at. So what do you blog if you've not a blog to blog?
eh?
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
plans
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
to those who wait
Feeling suffocated and unheard. Definitely trapped. What does it take to be taken seriously? I'm not taking the 'cry wolf less often' excuse for an answer. I call bullshit on anyone who says they hold true to that. I want answers and the longer it takes for me to receive them, the more frustrated I become at myself for not having figured this out and taken preventative measures.
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