So, the Easter Break has officially started as of today. You may be able to tell from the title line of this entry, I'm not entirely thrilled.
I don't mind a day off from work, generally. It is as enjoyable to me as the next gal, but I'm at something of a loss for what to do with a whole week off from work. I'm dreading it, some what, because I have a feeling it will foreshadow the summer for me.
One thing I can say, at least in the summer we won't be getting the weather we are going to next week. "Ugh" is the best description for this up coming week's weather: cold, snowy, and windy. You know the weather that New York state gets at the end of January and the beginning of February? Well, guess what's deciding to make a guest apperance during the month of April... yep, that crap. I'm not happy.
At least I didn't pack up all of my cold weather gear. I do have a slight problem, however, with my cold weather clothes. They're starting to get a bit tight on me with my growing belly. The pregnancy is progressing along fine and the baby is showing plenty of attitude. The ultrasound technicians and I were laughing this morning as the baby kept playing peek-a-boo with them. The baby would line up right for a picture and then move so that the picture wouldn't come out right. This didn't happen just once or twice, but for the whole time. So, the ultrasound that would usually take 15 or 20 minutes took closer to 30 - 40 minutes.
Work has been ... well... work. I can understand why people call it a 4 letter word. I can understand that concept very well, and I actually like my job. Days where I have to deal with 17 year olds throwing temper-tantrums, moronic 16 year olds going on 35 with over inflated egos, and having the general entitlement complex of today's teenagers shoved down my throat, I count them as bad days. I know, you're probably thinking that's everyday in a highschool. It may be that way at most schools, but at the one where I work, the kids aren't usually quite this bad.
Sure, they wear their complexes on their sleeves and are a functional minefield of hormone induced insanity, but you don't have to deal with teenage boys attempting to sexually harass you because your pregnant most days. You don't have to deal with the developmentaly disabled children going into a screaming and crying fit of hysterics because they didn't get to go home from school early (including the intentional soiling of themselves). And you don't generally have to deal with angry teenagers insisting that there's something wrong with the fact that they can't ask any adult in the building for X amount of money and recieve it upon demand. Not only are they insisting that there's something wrong with this fact, but that the social failure is on the part of all adults for their poor performance in academics and the general lack of personal responsibility in themselves as well.
Somedays, I really have a hard time restraining the urge to smack these kids in the backs of their heads and demanding that they grow up. Last I checked, 16 - 18 required a higher level of responsiblity and critical thought then the ages of 3 - 5. Where the hell do these kids get off insisting that they're faultless because they were spoiled by their parents, thus they have no reason to be held accountable for their actions? Now, I can understand the developmentally disabled kids having difficulty. Some of the kids I work with funciton at the level of a 3 - 5 year old child, so I can't hold them to the standards that I hold some one in their late teen years. But this whole attitude of "It's not *my* fault, I'm spoiled." is insane.
I have the perfect response for these kids when they give me this attitude:
That's fine. If you can't handle the responsiblity of your age, then I presume your parents are deciding when you get to move out on your own and learn to drive. Will that be happening when you're 35 or 40?
The thing that's really horrible about this entire sentiment is this:
I have an uncle and an aunt both in their late 40s to early 50s, they have the "It's not *my* fault, I'm spoiled." attitude. They've moved into the home of my late 70s - early 80s grandparents (their parents) with the expectation that they will be taken care of by their parents.
Rather disgusting, isn't it? ....
I really can't think of anything plesant to end this with. I'm half tempted to continue ranting about the social decay of the country and directing a bit of fury towards my manipulative and self-centered relatives.
....
I'm also considering going up stairs to tear the guy in the apartment above a new one for playing his music so loud that it's making the porceline butterflies in the display case by my computer rattle and stomping like he's trying to come through the floor. Perhaps I should just go make myself a cup of tea and do something .. mindless and plesant for a while.
roses
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Ranting about Mathematics
Ok, I'm not usually one to rant about things for no apparent reason. My bit of a rant about mathematics isn't with out much reason either, though it may seem a bit random in the light of my usual commentary on life. Sometimes I sit on a rant for a while because I feel that I really shouldn't blurt about it. I find that I feel that it is a bit trivial and foolish to rant about some things, so I don't post them here for the whole world to view.
This matter, however, is not one of those things. I have held my tounge on this matter because I couldn't fully formulate my thoughts on it until recently. My ranting about mathematics is not on the subject at large. It is actually focused on one particular point.
The school district I work at is filled with several wonderful souls who bravely endevor to help young minds learn how to do the basic skills they will need to be successful in life. Among these skills is multiplication. As a person who has a mild learning disiblity with mathematics, I found learning multiplication to be hellish. It was easier to learn fractions and algerbra then to learn basic multiplication for me. Even now, I can barely perform simple multiplication in my head for any value greater then three times five. (Which is 15, by the way.)
When I learned that there was a "new" method for teaching multiplication that was being applied in the school district, I was excited. Perhaps this method would finally help me learn how to multiply from 1 times 1 to 12 times 12 with out having to resort to 'cheating' with a calculator. Then I found myself introduced to the most assinine concept I have ever encountered in teaching mathematics. I understood why children were having a nightmarish time learning these concepts, children who have no learning disabilities at all.
First, you have memorization. For most people, memorizing things isn't too much of a problem. It helps greatly to have some kind of a pattern when you are memorizing a vast amount of material. The old method of memorizing multiplication facts by the 1x1=1, 1x2=2, etc. method has proven success because it organizes the facts into a fairly intuitive and simple pattern. Unless you're some one like myself, who has problems with memorization as part of the learning disability, you can pick it up fairly quickly. Unfortunately, there is a requirement now by the state of NY to have this method put aside. What has replaced it is this bizzare color coding of a 12x12 multiplication chart at random with bingo markers. You memorize the color groups of multiplication facts that are unrelated except for the arbitrary color they have been given.
This doesn't help you memorize. It actually makes it harder. Still, if you're one smart cookie, or incredibly lucky, the memorization thing won't be a problem for you.
Instead, you have a different problem to worry about. That is the method of multiplication that is being taught. Now, when I was taught multiplication in elementary school, I was taught that a multiplication problem is the "fast" version of addition. One factor in the multiplication problem represented the number you were adding. The other factor represented how many times you were adding that initial number to itself. This fairly simple explination gave students a visual way to see how the numbers related to each other and a simple way to check our work.
Now, the lattice method is the preferred mode of teaching multiplication. If you look at the explination of the lattice method given here, you find that it is not simple at all. It's actually very confusing and difficult to follow if you don't have the basic understanding of how the factors in a multiplication problem relate to each other. Throw in even the slightest trace of a learning disiblity and you're functionally left with hardly any hope of ever understanding how to multiply. Even students who don't have the problems understanding numbers have a very tormented time learning this method.
The form of division being taught is a bizzare cousin to the lattice method. It makes the problesm hellish to work on. As I was working with students after school one day, I had some of them ask me to help them understand their work. Considering that I was helping a student a few grades higher learn how to do algerbra, I didn't think it would be too much of a problem. Then i got to see this lattice method for multiplication and it's bastard cousin for division.
I struggled to help these kids understand it. When I couldn't even make sense of it I took a different approach. I presented the multiplication as I had been taught. The kids lit up with joy as they realized that multiplication wasn't half as scary or complicated as it seemed with the lattice method. I presented division as I had been taught and these kids mastered it in minutes. Then I had a math teacher look over and see how I was presenting the material to the kids.
Then, I got in trouble.
Apparently, NY doesn't want math taught in a fashion that actually allows the student to master it. It made me so angry I could spit nails. As I looked into it and I learned more about how mathematics is taught in the schools right now, the angrier I became. Up until recently, geometry was removed from the curriculum. Algerbra was something that was taught in a cursory fashion before throwing the kids into trigonometry a few weeks later. There are math teachers who are celebrating the fact that algerbra and geometry are coming back into fashion. There are also science, shop and other teachers of subjects that have some relation to these topics who are happy with this restoration of common sense by the higher ups of the state education department.
These are not some skill that you will never apply in your daily life. You use algerbra to figure out how much of a product you need to buy at the store when you have a fixed amount of money. You use geometry to spatially relate how the items you are putting away from the grocery store is going to fit on your shelves. You use all of these things and basic mathematics skills everyday. But, apparently, NY feels that it's not necessary to focus on these skills for mastery.
You may know enough to spit it out on a test, but that's it.
Life is not about the damn test! As educators, we're responsible for giving the students who are under our direction the tools that will enable them to proceed successfully through life. We're responsible for teaching them how to think critically, make logical decisions, and to function with the basic skill set required for success - reading, writing, and arithmatic.
Teach to mastery. If a student can't do something well enough to pass a test with the state mandated grade, if a student can do something that well, it doesn't matter. Can the student use the concepts taught to them in a manner that will get the correct result? Can the student explain why the concepts work in some basic fashion? Can they present that knowledge to another in a fashion that they can understand it?
If the student can accomplish those three things, they have mastered the subject. They may not get the state mandated grade for success, but as a student (and you as a teacher) have succeeded.
That is what matters.
This matter, however, is not one of those things. I have held my tounge on this matter because I couldn't fully formulate my thoughts on it until recently. My ranting about mathematics is not on the subject at large. It is actually focused on one particular point.
The school district I work at is filled with several wonderful souls who bravely endevor to help young minds learn how to do the basic skills they will need to be successful in life. Among these skills is multiplication. As a person who has a mild learning disiblity with mathematics, I found learning multiplication to be hellish. It was easier to learn fractions and algerbra then to learn basic multiplication for me. Even now, I can barely perform simple multiplication in my head for any value greater then three times five. (Which is 15, by the way.)
When I learned that there was a "new" method for teaching multiplication that was being applied in the school district, I was excited. Perhaps this method would finally help me learn how to multiply from 1 times 1 to 12 times 12 with out having to resort to 'cheating' with a calculator. Then I found myself introduced to the most assinine concept I have ever encountered in teaching mathematics. I understood why children were having a nightmarish time learning these concepts, children who have no learning disabilities at all.
First, you have memorization. For most people, memorizing things isn't too much of a problem. It helps greatly to have some kind of a pattern when you are memorizing a vast amount of material. The old method of memorizing multiplication facts by the 1x1=1, 1x2=2, etc. method has proven success because it organizes the facts into a fairly intuitive and simple pattern. Unless you're some one like myself, who has problems with memorization as part of the learning disability, you can pick it up fairly quickly. Unfortunately, there is a requirement now by the state of NY to have this method put aside. What has replaced it is this bizzare color coding of a 12x12 multiplication chart at random with bingo markers. You memorize the color groups of multiplication facts that are unrelated except for the arbitrary color they have been given.
This doesn't help you memorize. It actually makes it harder. Still, if you're one smart cookie, or incredibly lucky, the memorization thing won't be a problem for you.
Instead, you have a different problem to worry about. That is the method of multiplication that is being taught. Now, when I was taught multiplication in elementary school, I was taught that a multiplication problem is the "fast" version of addition. One factor in the multiplication problem represented the number you were adding. The other factor represented how many times you were adding that initial number to itself. This fairly simple explination gave students a visual way to see how the numbers related to each other and a simple way to check our work.
Now, the lattice method is the preferred mode of teaching multiplication. If you look at the explination of the lattice method given here, you find that it is not simple at all. It's actually very confusing and difficult to follow if you don't have the basic understanding of how the factors in a multiplication problem relate to each other. Throw in even the slightest trace of a learning disiblity and you're functionally left with hardly any hope of ever understanding how to multiply. Even students who don't have the problems understanding numbers have a very tormented time learning this method.
The form of division being taught is a bizzare cousin to the lattice method. It makes the problesm hellish to work on. As I was working with students after school one day, I had some of them ask me to help them understand their work. Considering that I was helping a student a few grades higher learn how to do algerbra, I didn't think it would be too much of a problem. Then i got to see this lattice method for multiplication and it's bastard cousin for division.
I struggled to help these kids understand it. When I couldn't even make sense of it I took a different approach. I presented the multiplication as I had been taught. The kids lit up with joy as they realized that multiplication wasn't half as scary or complicated as it seemed with the lattice method. I presented division as I had been taught and these kids mastered it in minutes. Then I had a math teacher look over and see how I was presenting the material to the kids.
Then, I got in trouble.
Apparently, NY doesn't want math taught in a fashion that actually allows the student to master it. It made me so angry I could spit nails. As I looked into it and I learned more about how mathematics is taught in the schools right now, the angrier I became. Up until recently, geometry was removed from the curriculum. Algerbra was something that was taught in a cursory fashion before throwing the kids into trigonometry a few weeks later. There are math teachers who are celebrating the fact that algerbra and geometry are coming back into fashion. There are also science, shop and other teachers of subjects that have some relation to these topics who are happy with this restoration of common sense by the higher ups of the state education department.
These are not some skill that you will never apply in your daily life. You use algerbra to figure out how much of a product you need to buy at the store when you have a fixed amount of money. You use geometry to spatially relate how the items you are putting away from the grocery store is going to fit on your shelves. You use all of these things and basic mathematics skills everyday. But, apparently, NY feels that it's not necessary to focus on these skills for mastery.
You may know enough to spit it out on a test, but that's it.
Life is not about the damn test! As educators, we're responsible for giving the students who are under our direction the tools that will enable them to proceed successfully through life. We're responsible for teaching them how to think critically, make logical decisions, and to function with the basic skill set required for success - reading, writing, and arithmatic.
Teach to mastery. If a student can't do something well enough to pass a test with the state mandated grade, if a student can do something that well, it doesn't matter. Can the student use the concepts taught to them in a manner that will get the correct result? Can the student explain why the concepts work in some basic fashion? Can they present that knowledge to another in a fashion that they can understand it?
If the student can accomplish those three things, they have mastered the subject. They may not get the state mandated grade for success, but as a student (and you as a teacher) have succeeded.
That is what matters.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Duit
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
I figured I'd just note that for those of you whom are celebrating today. For those of us here in the backwoods, it's just another quiet day. I've actually made some progress on getting the laundry put away and cleaning up from the approximate month I've been spending recooperating from the surgery for appendicitus.
Aside from doing housework, I've been looking up lullabies. I realize that my voice is out of practice, but I don't think the baby (or my husband) will mind if I am singing them now. I've a few that I've a bit of a soft spot in my heart for. It's kind of amusing, because they weren't sung to me as a child. Here's one that I am quite fond of:
Loreena McKennitt's Moon Cradle
I figured I'd just note that for those of you whom are celebrating today. For those of us here in the backwoods, it's just another quiet day. I've actually made some progress on getting the laundry put away and cleaning up from the approximate month I've been spending recooperating from the surgery for appendicitus.
Aside from doing housework, I've been looking up lullabies. I realize that my voice is out of practice, but I don't think the baby (or my husband) will mind if I am singing them now. I've a few that I've a bit of a soft spot in my heart for. It's kind of amusing, because they weren't sung to me as a child. Here's one that I am quite fond of:
Loreena McKennitt's Moon Cradle
When the moon-cradle's rocking and rocking
Where a cloud and a cloud go by
Silently rocking and rocking
The moon-cradle out in the sky.
Then comes the lad with the hazel
And the folding star's in the rack
'Night's a good herd' to the cattle,
He sings, 'She brings all things back.'
But the bond woman down by the boorie
Sings with a heart grown wild
How a hundred rivers are flowing
Between herself and her child.
'The geese, even they trudge homeward
That have their wings and the waste,
Let your thoughts be on Night the Herder,
And be quiet for a space.'
The moon-cradle's rocking and rocking,
Where a cloud and a cloud go by,
Silent rocking and rocking
The moon-cradle out in the sky.
The snipe they are crying and crying
Liadine, liadine, liadine
Where no track's on the bog they are flying:
A lonely dream will be mine!
Friday, March 16, 2007
More Quotes of some value
Optimisim is a self-fulfilling prophecy. -Janette Walls
The problem with doing nothing is not knowing when you're finished. - Ben Franklin
Work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance of success. - V. Havel
When tearful parents come up to me to talk about their child's 'learning disorder,' I ask them, 'Oh, you mean his learning opportunity?' - Paul Orfalea
We're made from star dust. - my Mother
Nothing in life that's worth doing is easy. - my Husband
The problem with doing nothing is not knowing when you're finished. - Ben Franklin
Work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance of success. - V. Havel
When tearful parents come up to me to talk about their child's 'learning disorder,' I ask them, 'Oh, you mean his learning opportunity?' - Paul Orfalea
We're made from star dust. - my Mother
Nothing in life that's worth doing is easy. - my Husband
Quotes of some value
I've collected the following quotes over the years. I think they are truly gems of wisdom that everyone would find helpful at some point in time.
Ignis arum probat, miseria fortes viros.
Fire tests gold, misfortune brave men. - Anon.
Tum denique homines nostre intelligimus bona, quom quae sotestate hasuimus, ea a misimus.
We mortals realize the value of blessings only when we have lost them. - Plautus
Semper fluris feci ego potioremque habui libertatem quam pecuniam.
I have always valued my freedom more then money, and preferred it. - attributed to Cicero
Oderant di homines iniuros.
The gods hate unjust men. - Anon.
Ea liberias est que pectus purum et eirmum, estitati aliae res obnoxiosue nacte in obscura latent.
Freedom is bearing a pure and dauntless heart; all else is slavery and lies hidden in darkness.
- attributed to Marcus Aurelius
Summum inis, summa imuria.
More laws, less justice. - Anon.
One is not a buddha mearly because one speaks much. The one secure, with out enmity, with out fear is called buddha. - Attributed to Siddartha Gotema, the Buddha.
May you be poor in misfortunes and rich in blessings. - Irish proverb
Ignis arum probat, miseria fortes viros.
Fire tests gold, misfortune brave men. - Anon.
Tum denique homines nostre intelligimus bona, quom quae sotestate hasuimus, ea a misimus.
We mortals realize the value of blessings only when we have lost them. - Plautus
Semper fluris feci ego potioremque habui libertatem quam pecuniam.
I have always valued my freedom more then money, and preferred it. - attributed to Cicero
Oderant di homines iniuros.
The gods hate unjust men. - Anon.
Ea liberias est que pectus purum et eirmum, estitati aliae res obnoxiosue nacte in obscura latent.
Freedom is bearing a pure and dauntless heart; all else is slavery and lies hidden in darkness.
- attributed to Marcus Aurelius
Summum inis, summa imuria.
More laws, less justice. - Anon.
One is not a buddha mearly because one speaks much. The one secure, with out enmity, with out fear is called buddha. - Attributed to Siddartha Gotema, the Buddha.
May you be poor in misfortunes and rich in blessings. - Irish proverb
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Changes to Blogger.
Yeah, I know, I'm a member of this blogging community. It may look bad for me to criticize it, but oh well. I'm rather opinionated. If they haven't noticed it before now... that's their problem.
I don't like the fact that I've been forced to use the new modle of Blogger. Yes, you read that right- forced to use it. Over the last several months, it has become progressively more difficult for me to use Blogger in the old mode. If I did not make the change, I would have been unable to access my account at all.
I understand that they had to make some changes. I'm certian that there are reasons that are specifically due to the requirements of supporting so many blogs. Some of this may be due to the fact that they desire to keep the service free and some of this may be fore other practical reasons, such as software support and server space.
I just don't like it when they present this illusory option of changing to the new format or continuing to use the old one. It's not an option. You need to do so or you have major difficulty accessing your account and run the risk of not being able to do so after a certian point in time when the majority of the users have completed the transition.
Next time a major change like this is done, Blogger staff, please, just say that you're making a major upgrade and there will be a transition period for users to get familiar with the changes. Don't say we have a choice to use the upgrade or not, when we really don't. Ok? I like your service, I enjoy using Blogger to post my thoughts upon the web. I've had no complaints until now. I hope that I will have no future complaints.
I don't like the fact that I've been forced to use the new modle of Blogger. Yes, you read that right- forced to use it. Over the last several months, it has become progressively more difficult for me to use Blogger in the old mode. If I did not make the change, I would have been unable to access my account at all.
I understand that they had to make some changes. I'm certian that there are reasons that are specifically due to the requirements of supporting so many blogs. Some of this may be due to the fact that they desire to keep the service free and some of this may be fore other practical reasons, such as software support and server space.
I just don't like it when they present this illusory option of changing to the new format or continuing to use the old one. It's not an option. You need to do so or you have major difficulty accessing your account and run the risk of not being able to do so after a certian point in time when the majority of the users have completed the transition.
Next time a major change like this is done, Blogger staff, please, just say that you're making a major upgrade and there will be a transition period for users to get familiar with the changes. Don't say we have a choice to use the upgrade or not, when we really don't. Ok? I like your service, I enjoy using Blogger to post my thoughts upon the web. I've had no complaints until now. I hope that I will have no future complaints.
A response to global warming fevor.
This whole extended flap over global warming is rather... unimpressive and not very well founded. I'm not saying that we're not harming the environment with our production of 'greenhouse gases' but I have to ask, has anyone done a comparison study as to the amount of 'greenhouse gas' emissions from the human populations vehicles and technology versus the natural sources of these gases?
Cow flatulance aside (very old joke btwn hubby and I), there's many sources of 'greenhouse gases' that have been in production for a very long time. It ranges from the vast amounts of carbon dioxide produced by all life on this planet that has a respitory system simmilar to ours (a very high percentage on that one) to the break down of volitile chemicles found in various different naturally occuring substances due to geophysical forces (released pockets of methane due to landslides, anyone?) to the dramatic explusion of very toxic gases from volcanic activity. it's rather foolish to say that these items don't factor into it all. Especially considering the fact that ice ages and periods of global warming happened before humanity even discovered fire.
Several studies of ice core samples and the geologic record (rocks from different epoches of history) indicate that the process of global warming and cooling events is part of a very long cycle. As there has been continued study into these things, there are some theories that are not well known (compared to the demon of global warming) which postulate that this cycle is an entirely normal phenomenon for the planet.
Some studies propose a connection with the change of the polarity of the earth's magnetic field, arguing that major and minor shifts of global climate are intimately tied to these 'flips' of the magnetic poles. There's been some circumstantial evidence indicating that the 'little ice age' that happened in Europe during the feudal period was timed with one such 'flip' of the poles. Other studies postulate that there is a connection with the solar cycle, suggesting that there is a much larger cycle then the commonly known 11 yr cycle of solar activity from maximum to minimum.
I'm not saying that ecological responsiblity isn't a good thing. conserving resources and working to develop techologies that result in the least amount of scorched earth is a smart thing. It makes us less likely to poision ourselves. But we should not be running around like chicken little over things like there is an el nino this year and insisting that it's because we're driving cars and burning fossil fules. We don't know why it is happening and people need to get their collective heads out of the sand. You won't understand it if you're going to seize on the first idea and develop a massive guilt complex.
This lemming-like mentality that seizes people makes me sick. Some days i really do hate humanity. After all, if we're told enough times that it's our fault that the hurricane happens, we'll believe it and meekly allow ourselves to be punished for something we had no control over, right? And we *must* deserve it, after all, because we're those filthy and disgusting homosapiens. Damn us and our opposible thumbs, damn our upright walking and our capacity for abstract thought. We should have remained apes and never even accomplished the wonders we have, because they are inhierently bad and evil due to the fact they are accomplished by humans. We didn't give the marmoset the chance to build the great gothic cathedrals... damn us all.
[Reposted from a message board I'm apart of.]
Cow flatulance aside (very old joke btwn hubby and I), there's many sources of 'greenhouse gases' that have been in production for a very long time. It ranges from the vast amounts of carbon dioxide produced by all life on this planet that has a respitory system simmilar to ours (a very high percentage on that one) to the break down of volitile chemicles found in various different naturally occuring substances due to geophysical forces (released pockets of methane due to landslides, anyone?) to the dramatic explusion of very toxic gases from volcanic activity. it's rather foolish to say that these items don't factor into it all. Especially considering the fact that ice ages and periods of global warming happened before humanity even discovered fire.
Several studies of ice core samples and the geologic record (rocks from different epoches of history) indicate that the process of global warming and cooling events is part of a very long cycle. As there has been continued study into these things, there are some theories that are not well known (compared to the demon of global warming) which postulate that this cycle is an entirely normal phenomenon for the planet.
Some studies propose a connection with the change of the polarity of the earth's magnetic field, arguing that major and minor shifts of global climate are intimately tied to these 'flips' of the magnetic poles. There's been some circumstantial evidence indicating that the 'little ice age' that happened in Europe during the feudal period was timed with one such 'flip' of the poles. Other studies postulate that there is a connection with the solar cycle, suggesting that there is a much larger cycle then the commonly known 11 yr cycle of solar activity from maximum to minimum.
I'm not saying that ecological responsiblity isn't a good thing. conserving resources and working to develop techologies that result in the least amount of scorched earth is a smart thing. It makes us less likely to poision ourselves. But we should not be running around like chicken little over things like there is an el nino this year and insisting that it's because we're driving cars and burning fossil fules. We don't know why it is happening and people need to get their collective heads out of the sand. You won't understand it if you're going to seize on the first idea and develop a massive guilt complex.
This lemming-like mentality that seizes people makes me sick. Some days i really do hate humanity. After all, if we're told enough times that it's our fault that the hurricane happens, we'll believe it and meekly allow ourselves to be punished for something we had no control over, right? And we *must* deserve it, after all, because we're those filthy and disgusting homosapiens. Damn us and our opposible thumbs, damn our upright walking and our capacity for abstract thought. We should have remained apes and never even accomplished the wonders we have, because they are inhierently bad and evil due to the fact they are accomplished by humans. We didn't give the marmoset the chance to build the great gothic cathedrals... damn us all.
[Reposted from a message board I'm apart of.]
Thursday, February 22, 2007
So, this is what it's like to be pregnant...
I kinda expected the cravings. I didn't figure it'd be for fruits, vegtables, and chicken though. I didn't expect the food aversions, but it's not as bad as it could be. I suppose it would have been alot worse if it was to pasta - one of my absolute most favorite foods!
It's been a bit complicated because of that whole appendicitus thing back in January. Now, I'm not sure if the muscle discomfort I feel in my abdomen is because I'm still healing up from that mess or my body adjusting to my growing uterus. I think, however, that I have started to feel the baby move inside me. I am not sure if the quick moments of queasiness that are gone in a few seconds are because of that or the suspected lactose intolerance. I thought it was going to be a little while before my hips started to bug me when I was walking around. I guess I was wrong.
Oddly enough, while many women panic about if they're too fat or looking fat when they're pregnant, I haven't had that concern at all. I think I can honestly say that I haven't ever felt better about my apperance then I do now. I'm not sure what's changed about it all, but suddenly I don't feel horrible looking in the mirror. I'm going to keep that whole thing fixed in my mind for when the pregancy thing is done. It is my hope that I will keep this healthy and happy/accepting outlook after I have the baby and the belly goes away.
The only thing that is a concern for me right now is finding a decent doctor. The doctor that I have been seeing... well, she's ok. Or at least, ok until I got pregnant. Last I checked, women who are pregnant are supposed to ask questions and find out about what they can do to take care of their health, if anything for the sake of the baby's well being. So what do I have to deal with, OB/GYN practitioners (as I've seen the others in this office) that get snippy with me for asking questions. I'm not going so far as questioning what their GPA at med. school was or anything else like that. I'm asking about what foods I can and can't have; what over the counter medicines are and are not safe; what kind of exercizing I can do; and many other related things.
You know, the usual concerns of pregnant women. The response I have gotten is one woman walking out of the office after I asked 3 questions and another complaining "I feel like I'm being interviewed." right to my face. Maeby I'm an unusual patient, because I want to take an active part in my care and do everything I can to ensure my and my baby's well being. I highly doubt it. Last I checked, alot of women feel the same way I do and haven't gotten attitude from their OB/GYNs for expecting them to work with them. I also don't think there's anything wrong with being indignant. I'm paying these people good money, earned by the sweat and blood of myself and my husband, for them to help me maintain my health, not look down their noses at me and treat me like just another ignorant hick.
I may be a country kid, but that doesn't make me dumb. I really hate it when people treat me like that. And this OB/GYN practice has been seeing me since when I lived out on the farm, so they know I'm from the country. They should also remember that I have an ivy league degree... but I guess they think I got that out of a Cracker Jack box. ... Ok, I'm not going to make more derisive and bitter comments.
To say the least, I got a recommendation from my general practitioner (a real nice guy who happens to be quite reasonable and smart) for another OB/GYN. Here's hoping that I can get into there and not have to deal with the rest of this horse crap.
It's been a bit complicated because of that whole appendicitus thing back in January. Now, I'm not sure if the muscle discomfort I feel in my abdomen is because I'm still healing up from that mess or my body adjusting to my growing uterus. I think, however, that I have started to feel the baby move inside me. I am not sure if the quick moments of queasiness that are gone in a few seconds are because of that or the suspected lactose intolerance. I thought it was going to be a little while before my hips started to bug me when I was walking around. I guess I was wrong.
Oddly enough, while many women panic about if they're too fat or looking fat when they're pregnant, I haven't had that concern at all. I think I can honestly say that I haven't ever felt better about my apperance then I do now. I'm not sure what's changed about it all, but suddenly I don't feel horrible looking in the mirror. I'm going to keep that whole thing fixed in my mind for when the pregancy thing is done. It is my hope that I will keep this healthy and happy/accepting outlook after I have the baby and the belly goes away.
The only thing that is a concern for me right now is finding a decent doctor. The doctor that I have been seeing... well, she's ok. Or at least, ok until I got pregnant. Last I checked, women who are pregnant are supposed to ask questions and find out about what they can do to take care of their health, if anything for the sake of the baby's well being. So what do I have to deal with, OB/GYN practitioners (as I've seen the others in this office) that get snippy with me for asking questions. I'm not going so far as questioning what their GPA at med. school was or anything else like that. I'm asking about what foods I can and can't have; what over the counter medicines are and are not safe; what kind of exercizing I can do; and many other related things.
You know, the usual concerns of pregnant women. The response I have gotten is one woman walking out of the office after I asked 3 questions and another complaining "I feel like I'm being interviewed." right to my face. Maeby I'm an unusual patient, because I want to take an active part in my care and do everything I can to ensure my and my baby's well being. I highly doubt it. Last I checked, alot of women feel the same way I do and haven't gotten attitude from their OB/GYNs for expecting them to work with them. I also don't think there's anything wrong with being indignant. I'm paying these people good money, earned by the sweat and blood of myself and my husband, for them to help me maintain my health, not look down their noses at me and treat me like just another ignorant hick.
I may be a country kid, but that doesn't make me dumb. I really hate it when people treat me like that. And this OB/GYN practice has been seeing me since when I lived out on the farm, so they know I'm from the country. They should also remember that I have an ivy league degree... but I guess they think I got that out of a Cracker Jack box. ... Ok, I'm not going to make more derisive and bitter comments.
To say the least, I got a recommendation from my general practitioner (a real nice guy who happens to be quite reasonable and smart) for another OB/GYN. Here's hoping that I can get into there and not have to deal with the rest of this horse crap.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
A few thoughts for today...
Last night, I learned something that only sank in this morning. It has me deeply disturbed and I honestly don't know what to do about it. So, I decided to do the only thing that made sense to me, write down my thoughts in the hapless (and hopeless) attempt to process what has me so troubled.
My youngest brother, the one who was in the US Marine Corps until last year, is going back into war. He joined the Army Reserve with the goal of getting money to go to college and to remain stateside long enough to get a degree before being rotated to Europe or somewhere else relatively safe. I remember my mother and his wife begging him not to join the Army Reserve. My brother felt that it was the only thing he could do since he finished his tour with the Marines. He felt that civillian life was ... not beneath him, but not suited for him.
Now, I learn that I still need to worry about my 'little' brother coming home in a body bag. God help his wife. She's got two daughters (ages 3 and 4) who are just now coming to know their father. Their baby boy is going to be born this summer. And now, she'll have to raise their children alone again, quite possibly alone for the rest of her life.
It makes me want to cry. I want to sit here and weep bitterly. I thanked every god that possibly could have had some kind of hand in bringing my brother home safely when he finished his time in the Marines. He had a hell of a time in there. Because my brother is basically a decent man (despite his bravado and his efforts to be a complete ass to everyone around him) he was passed up for advancement in rank, harassed by his superior officers, and generally didn't recieve recognition for his efforts. I realize, to many people, this sounds like the whining of some one who is ticked off that they didn't get that promotion they were hoping for that quite possibly happened for legitimate reasons.
If you assume that, then you assume that my brother is a liar. And, quite frankly, my brother may be a complete jerk at times, but one thing he most definately is not is a liar. When confronted with his drinking problem, he owned it. When confronted about other problems he had in the past and in the present, he owns them. Sometimes, he doesn't see the problems as problems and is quite proud of them. Other times, he will bluster with bravado that he's fine and the confess in some intimate setting to one of the few souls he trusts the fear and consternation he feels over the issue in question. Either way, my brother does not lie.
If you think such things of a man before you even know him, you should look into your own heart. You should look into your own heart and ask a very direct question: why do I assume that this person is a liar? I'll also add one other thing, quite frankly, people who assume all others are liars are often liars themselves. I'll leave that point aside, as I don't want to digress into what could turn into a tirade of potential personal attacks upon you, my Reader.
...
I ... I am at a loss for words right now. Grief that is far too deep to measure sits in my heart right now. Horror that can not be contained in words vies with such rage that I still can not voice it. Some may wonder why I feel rage at what was, after all, my brother's decision to return to the military. My rage is not directed at my brother. My rage is directed at the blindness of our leadership in this nation. My rage is directed at the leadership of our nation's military. My rage is directed at the complacent attitudes of my fellow citizens.
This war is a meat grinder. We are sending 18 year old boys into it and expecting them to lay their lives down for the propigation of a lie. What is this lie? The lie is that they are defending the United States and it's Constitution in this military action. If they are defending our homeland, show me the enemy who is waiting at the gates? Prove to me the validity of this war and why I should be willing to sacrifice my brother, my friends, my neighbors, and my students to it's cause. Prove to me why, if there is a draft, I should be willing to sacrifice my husband, the father of my child and provider of my household? Why should I be willing to sacrifice these people?
Because the President says so? Because "reliable intelligence" indicates that some nebulous enemy halfway around the world is collaborating with a nation that we have tense relations with to do bad things to our country, though we don't know what those bad things are? Because it's the beginning of an Election cycle and we need to show our strength and unity to the world in this war effort?
Please, give me a real reason. I can come up with several miles worth of reaons that are like the ones I listed above. Al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden have been inflated to the point of being great boogeymen used by the propaganda machine to terrorize us when when begin to rouse from the stupor induced by the media. Name the last time you had to worry about some one blowing up the bus your children rode to school. Name the last time you had to question if the municipal water supply was safe enough to drink or if your groceries had been coated with some biochemical weapon prior to arrival at the store or distributor. Describe to me your fear that these great monsters is going to come and ruin your life or those of your neighbors.
September 11, 2001 and the events that unfolded that day was not another Pearl Harbor. The sooner this nation wakes up and realizes it, the better. So many people are doing their damndest to turn it into one. And we wonder why that fell flat. People recognize we weren't attacked by another nation. So, we can't rally behind the tragic events of that day and up hold them as the reason why we are at war. Instead, this war relies on the apathy and miniscule attention span of a great nation that has been reducecd to an ignorant, self-centered and apathetic population controlled by war-mongering imperialistic facists. Yet the pundits, talking heads of the media, town fathers, and common man all wonder what the hell is wrong with this nation?
We're being controlled by fear. The same fear that makes you turn off the evening news because you don't want to see the slight glimpse of bodies and wonder if it's your brother/son/uncle/father/lover/friend/neighbor lying in the street, that same damn fear is exploited everyday. And *you* think that there's nothing wrong with it! Subtle suggestions that al-Qaeda is waiting to jump upon our nation, ravage her, and leave her for dead is hinted at all around us. Everything from the terror alert system to the increased "security measures" in our airports spreads that subtle suggestion that we need the government to protect us from the boogeyman.
We surrender our rights to this government as a result of this subtle, pervasive fear. And if you think that is a good thing, you have succumbed to the brainwashing that has been operating in this nation for the past twenty to thirty years. How many of your rights can you even name? Do you even know why things like the right to own and bear arms is written into the foundational documents of our nation? Do you know what the Declaration of Independence is and why it is one of the most dangerous documents in history? I can tell you that the vast majority of the children graduating from highschool can't confidently answer those questions. I can state with a very high degree of confidence that a very large percentage of our population can't answer these questions either.
Why? Because we have been taught that these things are a part of the past, and it's not that important. Today and the things that we are dealing with today is important. The fear that I mentioned earlier, it's not just affecting adults. I've had 15 year old boys telling me that al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden are the biggest threat to the United States today and that they are afraid of what they can do to us. I have had children who weren't even alive when the events of Sept. 11th 2001 unfolded express to me their fear that al-Qaeda was going to come kill their parents and themselves. Television shows like Jericho and 24 are fiction, but people fear that these events will happen. People see these things and become afraid.
As a result of their fear, they flail around for some way to assuage it and reduce it to manageable proportions. Some go into denial (actually very many do this) and steep their consciousness in the sensationalized detrius of reality television, shows like Desperate Housewives, or something equal part banality and offensiveness. Some surrender everything they can for the greater good, hoping that their efforts and sacrifice will be rewarded with protection and safety. This surrender is not a bad thing, if done in moderation. But, when you are ignorant about why you have your rights and just what the hell they mean, you can be taken advantage of.
The government, friends, is always seeking more power. It is a self-perpetuating monster. It feeds upon gaining power and keeping it. The closer we move to a totalitarian state (and we are, don't be fooled!) the more power the federal government has and the longer it can perpetuate itself. It does not serve the interests of the citizen. It serves it's own interest of self perpetuation. This may sound like the words of a jaded cynic, some one that could be declared as 'hating America'. They're not. They are the words of a student of history and a person who has a keen understanding of just what the hell government's proper function is supposed to be.
Now, you may be wondering what all of this ranting about the government, al-Qaeda, and how the nation's populace at large has lost their collective spine and independent thought processes is related to my brother's going back into war. It's simple. It is so simple that it is painful.
This war is founded upon a lie. That lie is that al-Qaeda is a threat to the United States and the Consitution, as are all nations theoretically aligned with it. Al-Qaeda is a pack of morons who want to blow up the United States, yes. But they are a fairly small pack of morons who have the power of a schoolyard bully. We have no evidence of nations aligned with al-Qaeda with the exception of Afghanistan (an assertation which I have questioned from the beginning). We are sending young men and women into be brutalized by the horrors of a war comprible to the battle of Iwo Jima on a national scale.
When these warriors return home, their sacrifices are ignored. Their long standing pain and horror from being in combat and having their clothes soaked in the blood and brains of their dearest friends is ignored. So, they feel that they have no place in civilian life and return to the meat grinder of an unjust and illegal war. If they dare to oppose this war, they recieve punishment, not support. They are scorned. It is right and just for each and every member of the United States armed forces to stand up and oppose this war. Each person from the newest recruit to the top brass has a duty to do so. But the machine of the government that is present today works actively through intimidation, lies, and simmilar forms of bastardry to force the military into a state of subjugation. And it is working on doing the exact same thing to the rest of the nation.
So, I sit here, questioning if I should be drafting up what I will say at my brother's funeral. Grieving for a man who is not yet dead because he has been given a death sentance of a game of Russian Roulette on the largest scale. And I know, in my deepest of hearts, that I will be named a traitor by so many people for saying that this is wrong. I, the descendant of Revolutionary war heros, will be named an ideological traitor and an apologist for "the Enemy" for standing up against the rising tyranny in my homeland.
The immigrants in my family came here from Germany shortly before World War II to escape this. My Great-great grandfather came here to build a new life in liberty. His descendants were to live in freedom.
Where is that freedom now?
My youngest brother, the one who was in the US Marine Corps until last year, is going back into war. He joined the Army Reserve with the goal of getting money to go to college and to remain stateside long enough to get a degree before being rotated to Europe or somewhere else relatively safe. I remember my mother and his wife begging him not to join the Army Reserve. My brother felt that it was the only thing he could do since he finished his tour with the Marines. He felt that civillian life was ... not beneath him, but not suited for him.
Now, I learn that I still need to worry about my 'little' brother coming home in a body bag. God help his wife. She's got two daughters (ages 3 and 4) who are just now coming to know their father. Their baby boy is going to be born this summer. And now, she'll have to raise their children alone again, quite possibly alone for the rest of her life.
It makes me want to cry. I want to sit here and weep bitterly. I thanked every god that possibly could have had some kind of hand in bringing my brother home safely when he finished his time in the Marines. He had a hell of a time in there. Because my brother is basically a decent man (despite his bravado and his efforts to be a complete ass to everyone around him) he was passed up for advancement in rank, harassed by his superior officers, and generally didn't recieve recognition for his efforts. I realize, to many people, this sounds like the whining of some one who is ticked off that they didn't get that promotion they were hoping for that quite possibly happened for legitimate reasons.
If you assume that, then you assume that my brother is a liar. And, quite frankly, my brother may be a complete jerk at times, but one thing he most definately is not is a liar. When confronted with his drinking problem, he owned it. When confronted about other problems he had in the past and in the present, he owns them. Sometimes, he doesn't see the problems as problems and is quite proud of them. Other times, he will bluster with bravado that he's fine and the confess in some intimate setting to one of the few souls he trusts the fear and consternation he feels over the issue in question. Either way, my brother does not lie.
If you think such things of a man before you even know him, you should look into your own heart. You should look into your own heart and ask a very direct question: why do I assume that this person is a liar? I'll also add one other thing, quite frankly, people who assume all others are liars are often liars themselves. I'll leave that point aside, as I don't want to digress into what could turn into a tirade of potential personal attacks upon you, my Reader.
...
I ... I am at a loss for words right now. Grief that is far too deep to measure sits in my heart right now. Horror that can not be contained in words vies with such rage that I still can not voice it. Some may wonder why I feel rage at what was, after all, my brother's decision to return to the military. My rage is not directed at my brother. My rage is directed at the blindness of our leadership in this nation. My rage is directed at the leadership of our nation's military. My rage is directed at the complacent attitudes of my fellow citizens.
This war is a meat grinder. We are sending 18 year old boys into it and expecting them to lay their lives down for the propigation of a lie. What is this lie? The lie is that they are defending the United States and it's Constitution in this military action. If they are defending our homeland, show me the enemy who is waiting at the gates? Prove to me the validity of this war and why I should be willing to sacrifice my brother, my friends, my neighbors, and my students to it's cause. Prove to me why, if there is a draft, I should be willing to sacrifice my husband, the father of my child and provider of my household? Why should I be willing to sacrifice these people?
Because the President says so? Because "reliable intelligence" indicates that some nebulous enemy halfway around the world is collaborating with a nation that we have tense relations with to do bad things to our country, though we don't know what those bad things are? Because it's the beginning of an Election cycle and we need to show our strength and unity to the world in this war effort?
Please, give me a real reason. I can come up with several miles worth of reaons that are like the ones I listed above. Al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden have been inflated to the point of being great boogeymen used by the propaganda machine to terrorize us when when begin to rouse from the stupor induced by the media. Name the last time you had to worry about some one blowing up the bus your children rode to school. Name the last time you had to question if the municipal water supply was safe enough to drink or if your groceries had been coated with some biochemical weapon prior to arrival at the store or distributor. Describe to me your fear that these great monsters is going to come and ruin your life or those of your neighbors.
September 11, 2001 and the events that unfolded that day was not another Pearl Harbor. The sooner this nation wakes up and realizes it, the better. So many people are doing their damndest to turn it into one. And we wonder why that fell flat. People recognize we weren't attacked by another nation. So, we can't rally behind the tragic events of that day and up hold them as the reason why we are at war. Instead, this war relies on the apathy and miniscule attention span of a great nation that has been reducecd to an ignorant, self-centered and apathetic population controlled by war-mongering imperialistic facists. Yet the pundits, talking heads of the media, town fathers, and common man all wonder what the hell is wrong with this nation?
We're being controlled by fear. The same fear that makes you turn off the evening news because you don't want to see the slight glimpse of bodies and wonder if it's your brother/son/uncle/father/lover/friend/neighbor lying in the street, that same damn fear is exploited everyday. And *you* think that there's nothing wrong with it! Subtle suggestions that al-Qaeda is waiting to jump upon our nation, ravage her, and leave her for dead is hinted at all around us. Everything from the terror alert system to the increased "security measures" in our airports spreads that subtle suggestion that we need the government to protect us from the boogeyman.
We surrender our rights to this government as a result of this subtle, pervasive fear. And if you think that is a good thing, you have succumbed to the brainwashing that has been operating in this nation for the past twenty to thirty years. How many of your rights can you even name? Do you even know why things like the right to own and bear arms is written into the foundational documents of our nation? Do you know what the Declaration of Independence is and why it is one of the most dangerous documents in history? I can tell you that the vast majority of the children graduating from highschool can't confidently answer those questions. I can state with a very high degree of confidence that a very large percentage of our population can't answer these questions either.
Why? Because we have been taught that these things are a part of the past, and it's not that important. Today and the things that we are dealing with today is important. The fear that I mentioned earlier, it's not just affecting adults. I've had 15 year old boys telling me that al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden are the biggest threat to the United States today and that they are afraid of what they can do to us. I have had children who weren't even alive when the events of Sept. 11th 2001 unfolded express to me their fear that al-Qaeda was going to come kill their parents and themselves. Television shows like Jericho and 24 are fiction, but people fear that these events will happen. People see these things and become afraid.
As a result of their fear, they flail around for some way to assuage it and reduce it to manageable proportions. Some go into denial (actually very many do this) and steep their consciousness in the sensationalized detrius of reality television, shows like Desperate Housewives, or something equal part banality and offensiveness. Some surrender everything they can for the greater good, hoping that their efforts and sacrifice will be rewarded with protection and safety. This surrender is not a bad thing, if done in moderation. But, when you are ignorant about why you have your rights and just what the hell they mean, you can be taken advantage of.
The government, friends, is always seeking more power. It is a self-perpetuating monster. It feeds upon gaining power and keeping it. The closer we move to a totalitarian state (and we are, don't be fooled!) the more power the federal government has and the longer it can perpetuate itself. It does not serve the interests of the citizen. It serves it's own interest of self perpetuation. This may sound like the words of a jaded cynic, some one that could be declared as 'hating America'. They're not. They are the words of a student of history and a person who has a keen understanding of just what the hell government's proper function is supposed to be.
Now, you may be wondering what all of this ranting about the government, al-Qaeda, and how the nation's populace at large has lost their collective spine and independent thought processes is related to my brother's going back into war. It's simple. It is so simple that it is painful.
This war is founded upon a lie. That lie is that al-Qaeda is a threat to the United States and the Consitution, as are all nations theoretically aligned with it. Al-Qaeda is a pack of morons who want to blow up the United States, yes. But they are a fairly small pack of morons who have the power of a schoolyard bully. We have no evidence of nations aligned with al-Qaeda with the exception of Afghanistan (an assertation which I have questioned from the beginning). We are sending young men and women into be brutalized by the horrors of a war comprible to the battle of Iwo Jima on a national scale.
When these warriors return home, their sacrifices are ignored. Their long standing pain and horror from being in combat and having their clothes soaked in the blood and brains of their dearest friends is ignored. So, they feel that they have no place in civilian life and return to the meat grinder of an unjust and illegal war. If they dare to oppose this war, they recieve punishment, not support. They are scorned. It is right and just for each and every member of the United States armed forces to stand up and oppose this war. Each person from the newest recruit to the top brass has a duty to do so. But the machine of the government that is present today works actively through intimidation, lies, and simmilar forms of bastardry to force the military into a state of subjugation. And it is working on doing the exact same thing to the rest of the nation.
So, I sit here, questioning if I should be drafting up what I will say at my brother's funeral. Grieving for a man who is not yet dead because he has been given a death sentance of a game of Russian Roulette on the largest scale. And I know, in my deepest of hearts, that I will be named a traitor by so many people for saying that this is wrong. I, the descendant of Revolutionary war heros, will be named an ideological traitor and an apologist for "the Enemy" for standing up against the rising tyranny in my homeland.
The immigrants in my family came here from Germany shortly before World War II to escape this. My Great-great grandfather came here to build a new life in liberty. His descendants were to live in freedom.
Where is that freedom now?
Saturday, February 03, 2007
killing braincells on the internet with drugs...
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One of the reasons why I haven't been posting ...
Part of the problem is that I find I am quite tired at the end of the day. Several times over the last several weeks, I have been getting home from work at 3 pm and taking a nap until it's time to go get my darling husband from work. Then (if I'm not too tired) I'll make dinner and go to bed. While my sisters-in-law have told me that the first trimester of pregnancy is exhausting, I wasn't really feeling it until recently. Sure, I took some naps during last month, but not as many as I have been this month.
My sense of time is rather thrown off. Apart of me says that it is still January, while the calendar says that it is February. This confusion is not a result of the recent exhaustion. I wish it was. Last Tuesday, I think that was the 29th but it may have been the 28th of January, awoke at 2:30 am with a feeling like gas pains. This is a fairly familiar feeling to me by now because instead of having the fun of morning sickness, it has been gas. I tried to use all of the tricks I knew to make this worsening gas pain go away. Now, some folks may think that gas pains aren't that bad. I assure you, when I get gas pain, I fully empathise with the flatulent infants who wail at the tops of their lungs. I've had them so bad that I nearly vomited because of pain.
So, when I say that my gas pains are getting bad they're starting to approach the nauseating level of pain. Then the feeling of pain moved some. I assumed, as I experienced yet another burst of pressure release for the gas, that it was possibly constipation. By this time, it was almost 4 am. I was exhausted and in pain, to say the least the thing I wanted the most was to go to bed. That was to be wishful thinking as the pain got worse. At about 6:30, I acknowledged defeat to sleeplessness and called out of work. I also called my parents for some helpful home remedies for my stomach discomfort.
I never realized just how horribly disgusting baking soda was until I drank a teaspoon of it in a glass of water. While I know this works quite well for gas and helped to settle my upset stomach, it tasted revolting. It didn't help with the pain either. At 7:30 am, my husband woke up for work and found me doubled over on a chair in the kitchen. I didn't get the option of arguing with him when he decided that I needed to go to the doctor. I had digressed from grunting with discomfort at 2:30 am to almost constant mewling and sobbing with pain at the time we were at the doctor's office. I think we were there for 15 minutes before the doctor sent us up to the hospital emergency room.
The doctor said that there were three possible reasons why I was in such pain. My gall bladder, my appendix, or an ecoptic pregnancy. I went from not only being in white hot blinding pain but to terrified white hot blinding pain. To say the least, I was not an easy person to deal with. I refused, however, to be crying and screaming with pain in public. I reserved such emotional breakdowns for when I was alone with my husband. I'm amazed that I managed such a stoic demeanor, to be honest. I guess I truly am more stubborn then an old mule. As I was in the ER, the nurses got a little nervous because of my lack of crying out. It was obvious that I was incredible pain. I was gripping my husband's hand white knuckled, very taicturn in my responses to questions, and I had tears streaming down at times while I ground my teeth.
Some where in the midst of having 4 doctors and I think just as many interns interview and poke me, one of the presiding doctors proved the soul of mercy. I was given a dose of morphine and the pain which was making me see stars eased. I slept for a little while, though I don't remember how long. A brief time (or perhaps a moderately long time) I was transported to the Radiology department for an ultrasound. This produced one of the few good parts of this entire experience. The baby was shown to be in the correct position. My husband was with me, having a difficult time distinguishing what part of the fuzzy picture was our baby and being facinated with the computer. I was delighted to see the baby. Perhaps I had an easier time seeing the baby because I am more familiar with the pictures that I have seen of my womb and ovaries when I'm not pregnant. Being a woman who has a problem with poly-cystic ovaries, I'm quite familiar with the process of an ultrasound. I've come to find them more enjoyible then the general gynecologial exam. You don't get poked so much.
Anyways, his attention was caught when the image on the monitor moved. We were both delighted to watch as the baby moved. As they took more still pictures, hubby's interest was drawn back to the shiny object infront of him. It's cute how much of a gadget man he is. Then, they stunned him. They played the sound of the baby's heart beat. I don't know if words can describe the joy and wonder that was on his face once he understood what the sound was. I may have been heavily medicated, but I was still thrilled and the parts I remember, I remember clearly. I know somewhere around here, we have pictures. Perhaps I'll learn how to scan them and I'll post one up here for everyone to see.
Once the fact that the pregnancy was in the correct position and the baby was ok had been confirmed, I was sent off to more testing. I don't clearly remember that part. I know that I was stuck with needles and had blood tests. I've got some marks on my arms from that. I can't recall what else. Morphine does that to you. It was a blessing to actually sleep after being up so long and to feel less pain. Even though I was getting poked and prodded, I didn't mind quite so much. So, after an army of tests, I was pronounced as having appendicitis. Briefly, the possiblity was tossed around that I may have a kidney stone, but it was rejected quickly when the doctors learned that I have no history of kidney disease, kidney stones, or other urinary tract problems aside from the occasional bladder infection.
...
It's sad, but I'm now confused as to where I am in my 'saga' of suffering. They've got me on some intense pain medication right now. It makes it easy for me to get confused and a bit drowsy. I don't like being on pain medicines (or most other kind of medicines) but the other option is not acceptible right now. I'll post more in a few minutes. Right now, I need to stop and do something different so I can refocus. :P Obviously, I'm not going to be at work for a few days or driving the car. It's not the best thing for me to do when my attention span is shortened and I'm easily confused. :p
My sense of time is rather thrown off. Apart of me says that it is still January, while the calendar says that it is February. This confusion is not a result of the recent exhaustion. I wish it was. Last Tuesday, I think that was the 29th but it may have been the 28th of January, awoke at 2:30 am with a feeling like gas pains. This is a fairly familiar feeling to me by now because instead of having the fun of morning sickness, it has been gas. I tried to use all of the tricks I knew to make this worsening gas pain go away. Now, some folks may think that gas pains aren't that bad. I assure you, when I get gas pain, I fully empathise with the flatulent infants who wail at the tops of their lungs. I've had them so bad that I nearly vomited because of pain.
So, when I say that my gas pains are getting bad they're starting to approach the nauseating level of pain. Then the feeling of pain moved some. I assumed, as I experienced yet another burst of pressure release for the gas, that it was possibly constipation. By this time, it was almost 4 am. I was exhausted and in pain, to say the least the thing I wanted the most was to go to bed. That was to be wishful thinking as the pain got worse. At about 6:30, I acknowledged defeat to sleeplessness and called out of work. I also called my parents for some helpful home remedies for my stomach discomfort.
I never realized just how horribly disgusting baking soda was until I drank a teaspoon of it in a glass of water. While I know this works quite well for gas and helped to settle my upset stomach, it tasted revolting. It didn't help with the pain either. At 7:30 am, my husband woke up for work and found me doubled over on a chair in the kitchen. I didn't get the option of arguing with him when he decided that I needed to go to the doctor. I had digressed from grunting with discomfort at 2:30 am to almost constant mewling and sobbing with pain at the time we were at the doctor's office. I think we were there for 15 minutes before the doctor sent us up to the hospital emergency room.
The doctor said that there were three possible reasons why I was in such pain. My gall bladder, my appendix, or an ecoptic pregnancy. I went from not only being in white hot blinding pain but to terrified white hot blinding pain. To say the least, I was not an easy person to deal with. I refused, however, to be crying and screaming with pain in public. I reserved such emotional breakdowns for when I was alone with my husband. I'm amazed that I managed such a stoic demeanor, to be honest. I guess I truly am more stubborn then an old mule. As I was in the ER, the nurses got a little nervous because of my lack of crying out. It was obvious that I was incredible pain. I was gripping my husband's hand white knuckled, very taicturn in my responses to questions, and I had tears streaming down at times while I ground my teeth.
Some where in the midst of having 4 doctors and I think just as many interns interview and poke me, one of the presiding doctors proved the soul of mercy. I was given a dose of morphine and the pain which was making me see stars eased. I slept for a little while, though I don't remember how long. A brief time (or perhaps a moderately long time) I was transported to the Radiology department for an ultrasound. This produced one of the few good parts of this entire experience. The baby was shown to be in the correct position. My husband was with me, having a difficult time distinguishing what part of the fuzzy picture was our baby and being facinated with the computer. I was delighted to see the baby. Perhaps I had an easier time seeing the baby because I am more familiar with the pictures that I have seen of my womb and ovaries when I'm not pregnant. Being a woman who has a problem with poly-cystic ovaries, I'm quite familiar with the process of an ultrasound. I've come to find them more enjoyible then the general gynecologial exam. You don't get poked so much.
Anyways, his attention was caught when the image on the monitor moved. We were both delighted to watch as the baby moved. As they took more still pictures, hubby's interest was drawn back to the shiny object infront of him. It's cute how much of a gadget man he is. Then, they stunned him. They played the sound of the baby's heart beat. I don't know if words can describe the joy and wonder that was on his face once he understood what the sound was. I may have been heavily medicated, but I was still thrilled and the parts I remember, I remember clearly. I know somewhere around here, we have pictures. Perhaps I'll learn how to scan them and I'll post one up here for everyone to see.
Once the fact that the pregnancy was in the correct position and the baby was ok had been confirmed, I was sent off to more testing. I don't clearly remember that part. I know that I was stuck with needles and had blood tests. I've got some marks on my arms from that. I can't recall what else. Morphine does that to you. It was a blessing to actually sleep after being up so long and to feel less pain. Even though I was getting poked and prodded, I didn't mind quite so much. So, after an army of tests, I was pronounced as having appendicitis. Briefly, the possiblity was tossed around that I may have a kidney stone, but it was rejected quickly when the doctors learned that I have no history of kidney disease, kidney stones, or other urinary tract problems aside from the occasional bladder infection.
...
It's sad, but I'm now confused as to where I am in my 'saga' of suffering. They've got me on some intense pain medication right now. It makes it easy for me to get confused and a bit drowsy. I don't like being on pain medicines (or most other kind of medicines) but the other option is not acceptible right now. I'll post more in a few minutes. Right now, I need to stop and do something different so I can refocus. :P Obviously, I'm not going to be at work for a few days or driving the car. It's not the best thing for me to do when my attention span is shortened and I'm easily confused. :p
Friday, January 12, 2007
Nothing big or interesting to post yet...
Been sick with a savage head-cold that turned into a sinus infection. :p Sick in bed for roughly a week now, to be precise.
I'll update with something worth reading in the near future. Until then, have fun getting ready for the incoming storm this weekend.
I'll update with something worth reading in the near future. Until then, have fun getting ready for the incoming storm this weekend.
Monday, January 01, 2007
I blame Lionessa for this stupid quiz!
Though I think it could qualify as strangely accurate, except for the fact that I'm not usually the Top. :) Thanks, Lionessa!
* Emphasis given is my own, not the website's.*
"My Lustsign is Awaken. I am the question, waiting to be answered. I am the leader, i am the alpha, and i don't tolerate anyone to come closer. I hunt, i kill, and i do all that just to feed my apetite. I am the warrior, and bed is my battleground. I don't care what you think, i don't care how you feel. You are my prey, and that means i will taste your flesh. Having sex with you is my birthright."
* Emphasis given is my own, not the website's.*
"My Lustsign is Awaken. I am the question, waiting to be answered. I am the leader, i am the alpha, and i don't tolerate anyone to come closer. I hunt, i kill, and i do all that just to feed my apetite. I am the warrior, and bed is my battleground. I don't care what you think, i don't care how you feel. You are my prey, and that means i will taste your flesh. Having sex with you is my birthright."
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Yule/Christmas/that winter celebration...
I suppose aside from "Baby stuff" I should probably post something about why I haven't been online for the last few weeks. I was incredibly busy with stuff for Christmas. My darling husband and I have been making gifts to save money this year, just like we did last year. It was an absolute success, with a lot of help from him.
The Gifts
I managed to get my eldest neice's quilt done just barely in time. I figure that it'll be something she will treasure for years to come. Or at least I hope that's how she will feel about it. She's said that she does want the purple bunting on the edges of it, so I'll be sewing that on when I stop over to teach her how to do the needlepoint projects that I gave her along with it. The girl's father and uncle have been doing their damndest to basically turn her into a little boy. I figure she should have some girly things and that's probably one of the most girly things I remember from my childhood. So, perhaps it will prove something she cherishes as well as the quilt.
We got the cookies done in a marathon streatch of baking from the 19th thru the 24th. On the 24th, my dear husband was in the kitchen following orders like a real trooper. The total on the cookies and sweets were as follows:
That includes the funds spent upon a book for my Grandfather, my Mother's chicken knick-knack, my Father's new puzzle, and the tool kit for my brother.
The Parties
Our celebrations were at the usual locations. On the 25th, we went to my Paternal Grandparent's house. It was good to see everyone again. My brother and his wife were there with the little girls. It was a sight that gave me hope that they will work through the current difficulties and repair their wounded marriage. Just about everyone was delighted to hear our good news about the pregnancy, even if my brothers both laughed at us and called us "suckers."
I'd have to say that the most useful gift we recieved came from the uncle who is infamous for the useless gifts. It was odd. I'm convinced that he was coached as to what to give us by my mother. The new knife/utensil set with revolving carousel is an absolute delight and replaces the 15+ yr old knife set that my mother gave me when I moved into my first apartment a few years ago. I'd also say that the most thoughtful and unexpected gift after that was the wonderful clock that we were given by my brothers. It's a beautiful and very stately wall clock that one would have up in their foyer. It's making me look forward to having a house to put it up in. Generally, the gifts from us were well recieved. My father got a laugh out of the huge pretzel jar full of cookies from the two of us.
The thing that stands out from the party at my Paternal Grandparent's house the most is the screaming monkey toys that my father gave the kids. They turned into toys for the grown men, much to the aggrivation of the women-folk and the delight of the children. The other thing that stands out was the toddler's tantrum during dinner and Mom's suggesting that we announce our good news when her tantrum was over. My darling husband and I both didn't think that was the best time, so we waited until just before presents to let everyone know.
Our next party was over at my brother-in-law's house. I didn't realize just how large their house was until I went upstairs to use their bathroom. That house is *huge* and beautiful. I'm really impressed with it. That party was the evening of Christmas and much more sedate. Ofcourse I don't think we had even half the number we did at the party earlier in the day. We had a small supper of ham and potatoes with greenbeans. I was delighted, because I'd been on a green bean kick for a few days at that time. When it was time for gifts, I was thrilled to recieve a book on needlepoint from my mother-in-law. I think it's kind of obvious to her and maeby the rest of the family by now that I'm a needlepoint/handcraft addict. She has agreed to teach me how to knit, so this is going to just get worse as time goes on! :)
We told his parents in a rather classy way that my mother suggested. He gave his mother a little bag labled "To Baby, from Daddy" with a teddy bear and some baby clothes in it. She lit up in one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen on her face. I think it rivaled the one she had when we announced our engagement or the one she had on our wedding day. We had a spectacular time visiting with his brother-in-law, wife and children after everyone had left. We all speculated as to why my husband's sister gave us the two exceedinly useless gifts. We still have no idea why she bought them. My dear husband is suggesting that we sell them on E-bay. :p
The day after Christmas we attended the celebration that is held anually at his Grandmother's house. It was a *huge* party and a bit of a momentous one in it's own right, actually. This year is apparently the 50th year that the party had been held in that house. There was probably more people present then years the party had been held there. Everyone was in high spirits and thrilled to see everyone else. We recieved a beautiful wooden bowl from his Grandmother. I immediately put it up on display when we got home. I'm still stunned by just how pretty it is and I don't think I'll use it unless I have no other possible choice.
When he announced the good news to his entire father's side of the family, there was a roar of approval. Again, I was reminded of the announcement of the engagement and our wedding day. It was a wonderful party, though rather exhausting for me. At the end of the evening, I accidentally dozed off on my husband's shoulder. His Grandmother was most amused by it and found it to be rather charming. The point that my dear husband finds the most amusing, and I'll admit I agree, is the fact that the family gossip was the last to find out that we are expecting to have a baby.
That, my dear Reader, is the saga of Christmas this year and the reason why I was incommunicato for the last few weeks. I'll try to post more regularly, now that my time is not going to be taken up with sewing or cooking. With making baby stuff, I've got 9 months to work on it. I'm not going to panic.
I hope everyone has a wonderful New Year and that the holidays have treated you as well as they treated us.
The Gifts
I managed to get my eldest neice's quilt done just barely in time. I figure that it'll be something she will treasure for years to come. Or at least I hope that's how she will feel about it. She's said that she does want the purple bunting on the edges of it, so I'll be sewing that on when I stop over to teach her how to do the needlepoint projects that I gave her along with it. The girl's father and uncle have been doing their damndest to basically turn her into a little boy. I figure she should have some girly things and that's probably one of the most girly things I remember from my childhood. So, perhaps it will prove something she cherishes as well as the quilt.
We got the cookies done in a marathon streatch of baking from the 19th thru the 24th. On the 24th, my dear husband was in the kitchen following orders like a real trooper. The total on the cookies and sweets were as follows:
- Sugar Cookies: 5 dozen (1 dozen w/ candy/frosting wreaths; 3 dozen w/ sprinkles; 1 doz. pre-made, frosted and covered w/ candy)
- Chocolate Chip Cookies: 5 dozen
- Rum Ball Cookies: 4 dozen (1 dozen coated w/ powered sugar; 6 coated w/ sprinkles; 6 coated w/ sprinkles & filled w/ candied ginger; 6 coated w/ coconut; 6 coated w/ cocoa; 6 coated w/ cocoa & filled w/ chopped walnut; 6 coated w/ coconut & filled w/ candied ginger)
- Brandy Ball Cookies: 1 dozen (coated w/ powered sugar; used brandy extract)
- Liquorice Ball Cookies: 5 dozen (coated w/ cocoa)
- Home-made fudge: 2 1/2 pounds (mint chocolate with marshmallows and nuts)
- Home-made chocolate lollipops: 1 dozen
- Home-made chocolates: 4 pounds (included: ginger filled continental chocolates; rocky road cups; orange tipped chocolate snowflake candies; painted chocolate snowmen; mint chocolates; chocolate peanut butter cups; chocolate coconut cups; cinnamon filled continental chocolates; cashew filled continental chocolates)
- Kitty Pillows (1 pink, 1 yellow)
- Candy shop spa bath kit (homemade liquorice scented bubble bath; homemade orange-citrus scented bath salts; homemade chocolate cake bath salts; homemade vanilla bath beads; chocolates; candle)
- Chocolate-Orange spa bath kit (homemade orange scented bubble bath; homemade orange scented bath salts; home made vanilla bath beads; homemade lemon scented sugar scrub; chocolates; candle)
- Bakers spa bath kit (homemade lavender bubble bath; homemade orange-citrus bath salts; homemade vanilla bath beads; homemade chocolate cake bath salts; chocolates; candle)
- Sweets spa bath kit (homemade apple pie bubble bath; homemade orange scented salt scrub; homemade vanilla scented bath beads; homemade orange scented bath salts; chocolates; candle)
- Kitchen devils kit (homemade dried chili & cinnamon bundles; homemade tarragon-juniper infused vinegar; homemade pequin chili infused oil; chocolates; can opener)
- Holiday Home kit (homemade tarragon vinegar; bottle of dry Italian Red wine; homemade tarragon infused oil; homemade dried chili & cinnamon bundles; dried pomegranate; chocolates)
- Holiday Kitchen kit (homemade dried chili & cinnamon bundles; homemade tarragon-juniper infused vinegar; homemade tarragon juniper infused oil; bottle of dry Italian Red wine; dried pomegranate; chocolates)
That includes the funds spent upon a book for my Grandfather, my Mother's chicken knick-knack, my Father's new puzzle, and the tool kit for my brother.
The Parties
Our celebrations were at the usual locations. On the 25th, we went to my Paternal Grandparent's house. It was good to see everyone again. My brother and his wife were there with the little girls. It was a sight that gave me hope that they will work through the current difficulties and repair their wounded marriage. Just about everyone was delighted to hear our good news about the pregnancy, even if my brothers both laughed at us and called us "suckers."
I'd have to say that the most useful gift we recieved came from the uncle who is infamous for the useless gifts. It was odd. I'm convinced that he was coached as to what to give us by my mother. The new knife/utensil set with revolving carousel is an absolute delight and replaces the 15+ yr old knife set that my mother gave me when I moved into my first apartment a few years ago. I'd also say that the most thoughtful and unexpected gift after that was the wonderful clock that we were given by my brothers. It's a beautiful and very stately wall clock that one would have up in their foyer. It's making me look forward to having a house to put it up in. Generally, the gifts from us were well recieved. My father got a laugh out of the huge pretzel jar full of cookies from the two of us.
The thing that stands out from the party at my Paternal Grandparent's house the most is the screaming monkey toys that my father gave the kids. They turned into toys for the grown men, much to the aggrivation of the women-folk and the delight of the children. The other thing that stands out was the toddler's tantrum during dinner and Mom's suggesting that we announce our good news when her tantrum was over. My darling husband and I both didn't think that was the best time, so we waited until just before presents to let everyone know.
Our next party was over at my brother-in-law's house. I didn't realize just how large their house was until I went upstairs to use their bathroom. That house is *huge* and beautiful. I'm really impressed with it. That party was the evening of Christmas and much more sedate. Ofcourse I don't think we had even half the number we did at the party earlier in the day. We had a small supper of ham and potatoes with greenbeans. I was delighted, because I'd been on a green bean kick for a few days at that time. When it was time for gifts, I was thrilled to recieve a book on needlepoint from my mother-in-law. I think it's kind of obvious to her and maeby the rest of the family by now that I'm a needlepoint/handcraft addict. She has agreed to teach me how to knit, so this is going to just get worse as time goes on! :)
We told his parents in a rather classy way that my mother suggested. He gave his mother a little bag labled "To Baby, from Daddy" with a teddy bear and some baby clothes in it. She lit up in one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen on her face. I think it rivaled the one she had when we announced our engagement or the one she had on our wedding day. We had a spectacular time visiting with his brother-in-law, wife and children after everyone had left. We all speculated as to why my husband's sister gave us the two exceedinly useless gifts. We still have no idea why she bought them. My dear husband is suggesting that we sell them on E-bay. :p
The day after Christmas we attended the celebration that is held anually at his Grandmother's house. It was a *huge* party and a bit of a momentous one in it's own right, actually. This year is apparently the 50th year that the party had been held in that house. There was probably more people present then years the party had been held there. Everyone was in high spirits and thrilled to see everyone else. We recieved a beautiful wooden bowl from his Grandmother. I immediately put it up on display when we got home. I'm still stunned by just how pretty it is and I don't think I'll use it unless I have no other possible choice.
When he announced the good news to his entire father's side of the family, there was a roar of approval. Again, I was reminded of the announcement of the engagement and our wedding day. It was a wonderful party, though rather exhausting for me. At the end of the evening, I accidentally dozed off on my husband's shoulder. His Grandmother was most amused by it and found it to be rather charming. The point that my dear husband finds the most amusing, and I'll admit I agree, is the fact that the family gossip was the last to find out that we are expecting to have a baby.
That, my dear Reader, is the saga of Christmas this year and the reason why I was incommunicato for the last few weeks. I'll try to post more regularly, now that my time is not going to be taken up with sewing or cooking. With making baby stuff, I've got 9 months to work on it. I'm not going to panic.
I hope everyone has a wonderful New Year and that the holidays have treated you as well as they treated us.
Time for Celebrations!
On the evening of the 19th, we learned that I am pregnant. My darling husband and I are both quite excited, absolutely delighted, and more then a little apprehensive about the practical things (like money and health insurance). We know that things are going to be ok, it's just the journey from here to there is always weird and challenging. We seem to have a magnet for that kind of thing, for some reason.
I'm not entirely sure what else to post here. I ran out and bought copies of What to Expect when You're Expecting, the What to Expect when you're Pregnant companion journal, and the Expectant Father. I've been talking to my parents and his parents, writing down notes about all of the conditions that run in the family. I think I've spoken to my Mother more in the last week then I have over the last two months. Our family and friends are all ecstaticly happy for us. I've girlfriends from college just about ready to hop on the next flight to come up and give the two of us (well, technically the three of us) hugs.
At the same time, I'll admit some nervousness here. I'm concerned that I won't be the best mother that I can be for this little baby (or possibly babies, I'm in line for twins!), while at the same time I know that I'll do my best. I'm struggling against some of my own expectations for what I should be like as a mother and a wife. I realize that I've set some of those expectations far too high and it's not good for me. I'm just struggling to break the habit of expecting perfection from myself 90% of the time. I realize that placing that kind of stress upon myself is not going to be good for me or the baby(ies).
So... how on earth do you manage to make yourself chill out when at the same time you want to make sure that the kid(s) have all the possible benefits and advantages that you didn't have as a kid and be the most loving and supportive parent you can possibly be? This is going to be interesting.
I know it's going to be alright. It's just getting from here to there is going to be weird. I'm filled with so much joy and gratitude that I really don't have words for it. I've got the words for the anxiety and the pragmaticism, even for a generic description of what we're doing. I just don't have the words for the joy. I wonder if this is how most mothers feel when they learn that they are expecting a bundle of joy?
I'm not entirely sure what else to post here. I ran out and bought copies of What to Expect when You're Expecting, the What to Expect when you're Pregnant companion journal, and the Expectant Father. I've been talking to my parents and his parents, writing down notes about all of the conditions that run in the family. I think I've spoken to my Mother more in the last week then I have over the last two months. Our family and friends are all ecstaticly happy for us. I've girlfriends from college just about ready to hop on the next flight to come up and give the two of us (well, technically the three of us) hugs.
At the same time, I'll admit some nervousness here. I'm concerned that I won't be the best mother that I can be for this little baby (or possibly babies, I'm in line for twins!), while at the same time I know that I'll do my best. I'm struggling against some of my own expectations for what I should be like as a mother and a wife. I realize that I've set some of those expectations far too high and it's not good for me. I'm just struggling to break the habit of expecting perfection from myself 90% of the time. I realize that placing that kind of stress upon myself is not going to be good for me or the baby(ies).
So... how on earth do you manage to make yourself chill out when at the same time you want to make sure that the kid(s) have all the possible benefits and advantages that you didn't have as a kid and be the most loving and supportive parent you can possibly be? This is going to be interesting.
I know it's going to be alright. It's just getting from here to there is going to be weird. I'm filled with so much joy and gratitude that I really don't have words for it. I've got the words for the anxiety and the pragmaticism, even for a generic description of what we're doing. I just don't have the words for the joy. I wonder if this is how most mothers feel when they learn that they are expecting a bundle of joy?
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Happy holidays... yeah, right.
Ok, I'll admit it straight off. I absolutely hate the "holidays" for a laundry list of reasons. I'll tick that list off for you in a minute. First, I just have to get something off my chest:
I don't care if you love the "holidays" and I don't care if you think I should too. I'm not going to put on the "holiday cheer" for you or any body else, so shove off.
Sorry, I just had to get that out. I know that some where, some one is going to take offense to what I'm writing. I might as well get the offending part done already this way they don't bother with the rest of this post to rant about later in their comments. And a quick aside, on the matter of comments, while I do moderate comments, I will publish non-spam comments. If you're blatantly offensive but fail to be amusing or interesting, I won't publish your comments. If you choose to go after me via personal attacks, and fail to be even moderately interesting, I won't publish your comments.
Aside from that, go ahead and comment on what I say. I'm curious as to how the rest of the world views my ramblings and rantings.
Ok... that done, back to the main theme: how much I hate the holidays and why.
Point one: I hate the holidays to the point that I will go out of my way to avoid the disgustingly cheerful holiday music that has been played for at least as long as my grandparents are alive. (Bing Crosby was a young man the same time my Grandfather was a young man, sorry people.)
I utterly despise the forced atmosphere of false cheerfulness and plesantries. If you're going to despise me or not think me worth the time of day, don't change it just because it's cold and getting on towards the month and a half after Thanksgiving, alright. Just stick with your misanthropy and stop lying to yourself and the world about how you feel about me.
For that matter, I hate the whole damn idea that you have the decorate your home and I will do my best to avoid putting up decorations untill shortly before Yule. The decorations I do put up are fairly sparse and usually do not go along the lines of the yards of garland, faux furred stockings, and enough red and green felt to choke a horse, never mind all of the glitter, beads, and bells tacked on to it. I generally dread family gatherings this time of year because of the two faced game played by damn near everyone. So, I hate this time of year.
Point two: Some reasons I hate this time of year. (This goes beyond what I mentioned earlier, folks.)
Look, I loved them when I was a kid. Then, my family stopped celebrating being a family. It turned into the mess I described above and an obligation to attend. I hope that I can get past this misanthropy and general malice that I feel towards the "holidays" by the time I have little ones. Some of my most cherished memories are of sitting by a roaring fire opening gifts at my Great-grandmother's knee and singing Christmas carols, or laughing at some silly family story as my Dad cracked nuts for my brothers and I to eat. I'll treasure those memories for all my life and I hope that when I'm an old woman Alzheimers won't rob me of them. I also hope that I can maeby provide something more lasting for my children, maeby make it where they don't hate the holidays when they're my age.
I don't care if you love the "holidays" and I don't care if you think I should too. I'm not going to put on the "holiday cheer" for you or any body else, so shove off.
Sorry, I just had to get that out. I know that some where, some one is going to take offense to what I'm writing. I might as well get the offending part done already this way they don't bother with the rest of this post to rant about later in their comments. And a quick aside, on the matter of comments, while I do moderate comments, I will publish non-spam comments. If you're blatantly offensive but fail to be amusing or interesting, I won't publish your comments. If you choose to go after me via personal attacks, and fail to be even moderately interesting, I won't publish your comments.
Aside from that, go ahead and comment on what I say. I'm curious as to how the rest of the world views my ramblings and rantings.
Ok... that done, back to the main theme: how much I hate the holidays and why.
Point one: I hate the holidays to the point that I will go out of my way to avoid the disgustingly cheerful holiday music that has been played for at least as long as my grandparents are alive. (Bing Crosby was a young man the same time my Grandfather was a young man, sorry people.)
I utterly despise the forced atmosphere of false cheerfulness and plesantries. If you're going to despise me or not think me worth the time of day, don't change it just because it's cold and getting on towards the month and a half after Thanksgiving, alright. Just stick with your misanthropy and stop lying to yourself and the world about how you feel about me.
For that matter, I hate the whole damn idea that you have the decorate your home and I will do my best to avoid putting up decorations untill shortly before Yule. The decorations I do put up are fairly sparse and usually do not go along the lines of the yards of garland, faux furred stockings, and enough red and green felt to choke a horse, never mind all of the glitter, beads, and bells tacked on to it. I generally dread family gatherings this time of year because of the two faced game played by damn near everyone. So, I hate this time of year.
Point two: Some reasons I hate this time of year. (This goes beyond what I mentioned earlier, folks.)
- The gross consumerisim foisted upon us with the attendant guilt complex for not having the shiniest and most expensive gift for each person on your list.
- The repulsive "keeping up with the Jones's" game that is played by all of the people around the neighborhood for the most obnoxious and bright light pollution.... I mean light display.
- All of the children (and most of the adults in their own silent way) demanding, crying, screaming and throwing tantrums for what ever object du jour that will feed their greedy lust for more random crap to say they own, contributing to the entitlement/instant gratification generation.
- The desecration of the holy days of the season of many religions through the above actions.
- The failure to observe the special gift of family and the joys attendant upon having your loved ones still with you this year by the heart felt demonstrative displays of affection.
- The continuation of old bullshit arguments from last year/last holiday/last month/last week that serve only to hurt the people who you love and could easily lose within the next five minutes due to some unknown and unforseen calamity.
- The insane expectations for people to bottle up their pain and play nice with people who hurt them for the sake of making everything look like it's ok.
- The pain of attempting to brave the mall or any other shopping expidition for holiday or non-holiday purposes (with out any gurantee of safety of life, limb, or property, or success in your venture).
- The headache of making sure that you have the right gift for the person who claims they want nothing, when they feel too self conscious to admit that they want you to do something special for them.
- The heartache of having all of those subtle hints you dropped to some one ignored and getting yet another ugly tie/sweater/mixing bowl/blender/etc.
- The migraine inducing insanity of having some one give your children the exact thing you said not to give them (ie: toys with out batteries; finger paints for toddlers; etc.)
- Going to office parties, work related holiday functions, or simmilar "social obligations" when you really don't want to be around these half drunk bumbling blowhards any more then you have to, and you've no choice because failure will make you look bad and thus cost you that raise you need to put your kid through college.
Look, I loved them when I was a kid. Then, my family stopped celebrating being a family. It turned into the mess I described above and an obligation to attend. I hope that I can get past this misanthropy and general malice that I feel towards the "holidays" by the time I have little ones. Some of my most cherished memories are of sitting by a roaring fire opening gifts at my Great-grandmother's knee and singing Christmas carols, or laughing at some silly family story as my Dad cracked nuts for my brothers and I to eat. I'll treasure those memories for all my life and I hope that when I'm an old woman Alzheimers won't rob me of them. I also hope that I can maeby provide something more lasting for my children, maeby make it where they don't hate the holidays when they're my age.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Why I hate Popular Culture... (attitude rant)
Now, I'll presume that you've read my television rant. One may wonder what I do with my time, as I have a whole third of my life free to do anything I wish with it (when I finish the dishes). I listen to an incredible amount of music. I write. I do needlepoint, sewing, and other things that are traditionally known as the womanly arts. I read many books.
I'm generally socially isolated because I don't follow the cult of the idiot box. I can't have the conversation about the O.C. or who's trying to get into the pants of Dr. McDreamy. I don't particularly enjoy being socially isolated, but it's hard to have a conversation with some one about a subject that may require thought. Most people are frightened of discussing the pros and cons of the philosophies espoused by the educational system or the different implications of new translations of the Old Testament which seem to imply that the early Hebrews were actually polytheists. For some reason, big words scare these people. And I work with individuals with college degrees, most of them have Master's degrees in their respective fields!
The general attitude that I encounter in the popular culture around me is the following:
Soo... are we screwed? I hate to say it, but I think so. Sorry guys, but popular culture is destroying our species. There's not enough of us who are not of the prey animal mindset to reverse this effect. Perhaps we should hit the big red button and nuke the whole world back to the stone age. Maybe that'll cure it.
I'm generally socially isolated because I don't follow the cult of the idiot box. I can't have the conversation about the O.C. or who's trying to get into the pants of Dr. McDreamy. I don't particularly enjoy being socially isolated, but it's hard to have a conversation with some one about a subject that may require thought. Most people are frightened of discussing the pros and cons of the philosophies espoused by the educational system or the different implications of new translations of the Old Testament which seem to imply that the early Hebrews were actually polytheists. For some reason, big words scare these people. And I work with individuals with college degrees, most of them have Master's degrees in their respective fields!
The general attitude that I encounter in the popular culture around me is the following:
- All females must be size two with blond hair and at minimum a C-cup bra.
- If you violate the above rule, you must strive to meet it and wear the fashion industry proscribed clothing appropriate to your body form (provided that your size is 14 and under).
- All females must feel that their boobs are not big enough, their skin is not perfect enough, and that they must compulsively wear suggestive clothing and vast hordes of make up to correct this 'flaw'.
- Males must treat females as objects of both praise and revulsion; most explicitly adhering to this standard in the environments of mixed genders.
- Males must remind females of their place in the social construct.
- Children are allowed to be 'cute' until they reach age 5. After this age, they must initiate the development process into a sexualized object. Failure to do so will be viewed as a violation of the mandated growth process.
- ...
Soo... are we screwed? I hate to say it, but I think so. Sorry guys, but popular culture is destroying our species. There's not enough of us who are not of the prey animal mindset to reverse this effect. Perhaps we should hit the big red button and nuke the whole world back to the stone age. Maybe that'll cure it.
Why I hate Popular Culture... (television rant)
I suppose the title of this does sound a little bit too much like the essay question for a high school English class. That said, the title does fit very well and I'll only change it upon an overwhelming influx of individuals who are arguing that it is a terrible title and proposes new ones. Until that time, however, the cheezy title is going to stand. Digression about the title aside, let's get to the meat and potatoes of this post, shall we?
I do hate popular culture. I don't watch television because it gives me headaches. My headaches are not spawned by the cycle of the flicker of the screen or some other related item explained by neurological deduction. It's not like my migraines that are triggered by florescent lights. No, my headaches that come from watching television are directly related to my aggravation over the amount of banality and trite horse-shit that is shoveled into our homes through what my family affectionately calls the 'idiot box'.
Over the last year, I have watched approximately 24 hours of television. That is roughly 2 hours each month. If you wish to include the occasional times that my husband and I watch television at our friends' and families' houses, then I suppose that number would edge close to 30 hours in a year. The national average is 2555 hours per year. I got that number from a little bit of simple math and the data on this website. Just to put that into perspective, that is roughly 106 days of watching television for a full 24 hours. That comprises nearly a third of the year. Sleep takes up approximately 144 days of the year, just to let you know. Work time, based on a standard40 hour work week, is roughly121 days in the year. That leaves you with no other time for anything else, and that you're probably overlapping some of your work time with one of the other two.
One may wonder why I have chosen to be watching less television by a couple of factors of ten. Part of it is so that I have time to get things done and not live in a hovel. I'm sorry, but I'm not one of these people where I can watch television and wash dishes at the same time. I'll wind up ignoring something, and I really don't feel like getting food poisioning because my dishes or food preparation equipment wasn't clean enough. I don't like wasting electricity by ignoring the television as I'm doing other things. So I don't even bother turning it on.
I'll watch the news from time to time. It's gotten almost painful to watch even that. Look, I don't have a problem with the fact that you're reporting the latest scandal in DC or how Brittney Spears must be reported to the fashion police. But I would really prefer to hear something of more substance. I'd be thrilled if you just did your jobs, actually. Just report on the issue, don't pander to the ratings by adding your opinions on it or how you feel about the images that are shown to go with your bit piece. Please, for the love of John Campbell, just do your job! Let me make up my own mind on the topics presented. All of the miserable business of having the reporter in the sportcoat telling me how they feel or view the topic (there by attempting to influence my feelings on it) is insulting to my intelligence. I have enough gray matter upstairs in proper working order to decide if I should be scandalized, amused, or bored with Britteny's presence or lack of undergarments in public. I really don't need some mouthpeice to bet telling me how I should feel or trying to influence it.
I don't bother with soap operas, reality television or sitcoms. They're pretty much all the same. People are stabbing each other in the backs, attempting to generate a succession of high drama moments, and pandering to the prevailing trends of fashion and the contemporary sterotypes. Maeby it's just me, but I find the paper thin plots and over blown 'drama' of it all to be disgusting. If I wanted to witness that much angst, I'd be continually subscribed to all the blogs of teenagers and their related webcams. The whole business is a glorified angst-fest that puts the hallowed halls of the high school hell to shame. There's so many prima donnas in one room that I think it violates some law of physics, thus some of them must be virtual images or filmed separately and parsed together to prevent the entire group from hitting the Chandrasekhar limit and collapsing into a black hole of irony. After all gravitational mass requires substance and these are generally vapid characters we're discussing on celluloid. Maybe it's all the mass of the photons, but I doubt it.
On occasion, I will watch educational television. A large amount of the selection on the History Channel and the Discovery Channel can prove interesting, if it was written just a little bit more towards a higher educational level. This, however, is not something I expect, because I think the national average for reading level is about 5th grade. Reading level has a direct relationship to word comprehension, which is vital for one to understand terms stated to them in a discussion. In short, they dumb down their shows so that the audience can keep up with them. I'm glad that these options exist, but they're rather buried under the 5 million other channels of fluff that's out there. I know, ESPN and the other sports specific channels aren't 'fluff' per se, but they get rather repetitive rather quickly. Especially if you're not interested in sports.
Now, popular culture, as I have been subjected to it, seems to insist that the fluff channel discussion how to paint your nails properly or the latest gossip from Hollywood (which I hope that someday those poor viewers will realize is manufactured gossip) is the thing to watch. The bread and circuses of our era can be found in how pop culture upholds fast food and television where you get to see people:
Here's the really good part, I still get to hear about all of the tripe that's thrown up on the television for us all to debate if we can choke back the vomit rising in our throats or force it down by shoving a twinkie in to absorb the acid and physically force the regurgitation process to reverse. I have the wonderful joy of being told all about it by the people around me. I get to hear about Britteny's latest stunt, the current moron who's grandstanding for glory on this week's 'hottest' reality show, and be told how frumpy I look because I'm not dressed in the latest fashions. I can't escape it, no matter how hard I try, unless I completely isolate myself from all other people. Even then, I will still be subjected to the supporting materials in the form of advertisements and other miscellany that litters the world around me.
I hate having this stuff shoved down my throat. I don't want any damn part of it and it's getting forced on me.
I do hate popular culture. I don't watch television because it gives me headaches. My headaches are not spawned by the cycle of the flicker of the screen or some other related item explained by neurological deduction. It's not like my migraines that are triggered by florescent lights. No, my headaches that come from watching television are directly related to my aggravation over the amount of banality and trite horse-shit that is shoveled into our homes through what my family affectionately calls the 'idiot box'.
Over the last year, I have watched approximately 24 hours of television. That is roughly 2 hours each month. If you wish to include the occasional times that my husband and I watch television at our friends' and families' houses, then I suppose that number would edge close to 30 hours in a year. The national average is 2555 hours per year. I got that number from a little bit of simple math and the data on this website. Just to put that into perspective, that is roughly 106 days of watching television for a full 24 hours. That comprises nearly a third of the year. Sleep takes up approximately 144 days of the year, just to let you know. Work time, based on a standard40 hour work week, is roughly121 days in the year. That leaves you with no other time for anything else, and that you're probably overlapping some of your work time with one of the other two.
One may wonder why I have chosen to be watching less television by a couple of factors of ten. Part of it is so that I have time to get things done and not live in a hovel. I'm sorry, but I'm not one of these people where I can watch television and wash dishes at the same time. I'll wind up ignoring something, and I really don't feel like getting food poisioning because my dishes or food preparation equipment wasn't clean enough. I don't like wasting electricity by ignoring the television as I'm doing other things. So I don't even bother turning it on.
I'll watch the news from time to time. It's gotten almost painful to watch even that. Look, I don't have a problem with the fact that you're reporting the latest scandal in DC or how Brittney Spears must be reported to the fashion police. But I would really prefer to hear something of more substance. I'd be thrilled if you just did your jobs, actually. Just report on the issue, don't pander to the ratings by adding your opinions on it or how you feel about the images that are shown to go with your bit piece. Please, for the love of John Campbell, just do your job! Let me make up my own mind on the topics presented. All of the miserable business of having the reporter in the sportcoat telling me how they feel or view the topic (there by attempting to influence my feelings on it) is insulting to my intelligence. I have enough gray matter upstairs in proper working order to decide if I should be scandalized, amused, or bored with Britteny's presence or lack of undergarments in public. I really don't need some mouthpeice to bet telling me how I should feel or trying to influence it.
I don't bother with soap operas, reality television or sitcoms. They're pretty much all the same. People are stabbing each other in the backs, attempting to generate a succession of high drama moments, and pandering to the prevailing trends of fashion and the contemporary sterotypes. Maeby it's just me, but I find the paper thin plots and over blown 'drama' of it all to be disgusting. If I wanted to witness that much angst, I'd be continually subscribed to all the blogs of teenagers and their related webcams. The whole business is a glorified angst-fest that puts the hallowed halls of the high school hell to shame. There's so many prima donnas in one room that I think it violates some law of physics, thus some of them must be virtual images or filmed separately and parsed together to prevent the entire group from hitting the Chandrasekhar limit and collapsing into a black hole of irony. After all gravitational mass requires substance and these are generally vapid characters we're discussing on celluloid. Maybe it's all the mass of the photons, but I doubt it.
On occasion, I will watch educational television. A large amount of the selection on the History Channel and the Discovery Channel can prove interesting, if it was written just a little bit more towards a higher educational level. This, however, is not something I expect, because I think the national average for reading level is about 5th grade. Reading level has a direct relationship to word comprehension, which is vital for one to understand terms stated to them in a discussion. In short, they dumb down their shows so that the audience can keep up with them. I'm glad that these options exist, but they're rather buried under the 5 million other channels of fluff that's out there. I know, ESPN and the other sports specific channels aren't 'fluff' per se, but they get rather repetitive rather quickly. Especially if you're not interested in sports.
Now, popular culture, as I have been subjected to it, seems to insist that the fluff channel discussion how to paint your nails properly or the latest gossip from Hollywood (which I hope that someday those poor viewers will realize is manufactured gossip) is the thing to watch. The bread and circuses of our era can be found in how pop culture upholds fast food and television where you get to see people:
- act as greedy, self serving bastards
- prove themselves to be wonders of the world, for they have enough intelligence to breathe and walk upright, even as they have not enough to understand that placing a bottle-rocket up your rectum is not a good idea
- as objects of mental (and physical if you so choose) masturbation via sadistic voyeuristic fantasies lived out in reality television; specifically if you have a fetish for humiliation of others
- express a distinct lack of regard for the consequences of their actions upon others, thus engaging in behavior that proves denigrating to the society as a whole
Here's the really good part, I still get to hear about all of the tripe that's thrown up on the television for us all to debate if we can choke back the vomit rising in our throats or force it down by shoving a twinkie in to absorb the acid and physically force the regurgitation process to reverse. I have the wonderful joy of being told all about it by the people around me. I get to hear about Britteny's latest stunt, the current moron who's grandstanding for glory on this week's 'hottest' reality show, and be told how frumpy I look because I'm not dressed in the latest fashions. I can't escape it, no matter how hard I try, unless I completely isolate myself from all other people. Even then, I will still be subjected to the supporting materials in the form of advertisements and other miscellany that litters the world around me.
I hate having this stuff shoved down my throat. I don't want any damn part of it and it's getting forced on me.
What the hell.....?
Before you read this post, please read this news story from the BBC.
I'll wait a few seconds...
Ok, I'll assume that you have read this particular article. Now, on one hand, you could say, "Wow, that's horrible! Who would do something like have their kid arrested for filching their Christmas gifts early?" and on the other hand, "What the hell is so wrong with a child that they need the 'lesson' of being arrested for filching their Christmas present early?"
I think the important part of this story is not the Christmas present, like it is designed to read. The important part is:
The boy, who has been diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, is already facing an expulsion hearing at his school for attempting to hit a police officer assigned to the school last month. The boy's case will be presented to York County's Department of Juvenile Justice, which will decide what action to take. Ms Ervin told the Associated Press she hoped the authorities could scare her son into behaving himself. "It's not even about the Christmas present," she said. "I'd rather call (the police) myself than someone else call for him doing something worse."
Now, maybe it's just me, but doesn't it strike you as somewhat desperate to have to take these measures? Please, don't read that as a slight against the mother. But, the act of reporting your child for petit larceny after they have gotten into the Christmas gift is rather extreme compared to something such as grounding or taking away said gift. Perhaps this is a sign of a larger problem, one that perhaps extends beyond the child's ADHD and into how it is handled by the people around him. Is it perhaps a sign that our society's efforts to avoid teaching discipline via the application of discipline when children misbehave is not working?
Oh, I know, I sound like a curmudgeon. It doesn't change the distinct possiblity that I might be right, here. It may seem a little crazy, but perhaps the reason why this child gets into so much trouble is because his behavior is tolerated. One could argue that a policy of continual capitulation to "problem children" on the part of the schools is a dramatic part of the problem of excessive permissiveness. Oh, I know, I know, one of the wits reading this is going to say that I am taking to hard of a stance and that there's nothing that can be done to resolve this problem.
I challenge that assumption. You would have no concept of self-discipline if you were not educated by having been subjected to some form of discipline when you were younger. Children learn by things such as what happens in their environment. If a child is raised in a place where there are high standards for behavior and appropriate consequences for failing to meet those standards, eventually it will become habitual to operate close to the standards to avoid the punishment. One habit has set in, it becomes very hard to break. In the case of self-discipline, it is a continuation of the habit of avoiding the problems associated with poor behavior.
I'm not saying that I have all the answers, but perhaps we need to rethink our strategy on disciplining children. Being their "friend" rather then their parent or the authority figure in a relationship is clearly not working. This whole concept of having a parent concerned if their children "likes" them or thinks they're "cool" parents... the more and more it stinks of an avoidance behavior and an effort not to take responsiblity for being a parent.
I understand that raising children is hard work. It's probably the hardest job on the planet next to that Alaskan deep sea fishing job.. (Is that still listed as the official 'hardest job in the world'?) It may sound ignorant as hell for a woman who has no children to be saying these things too. I'm planning on having kids, though, so I need to think about them. From the models of child rearing that I have seen thus far, I am inclined to argue that very few of the 'popular' ones are working and the country is just going to get progressively worse the more people attempt to avoid doing the hard and painful work of disciplining their children.
I've worked with toddlers. It does tug at your heart strings when they are crying over the fact that they don't get that dessert after dinner because they decided to beat the snot out of another child. It makes you feel bad to see a child crying over anything. That doesn't mean that you try to make it all better by giving them a cookie "just this one time" or a new toy. You can't bribe children to behave. It does not work. They will view it as a reward to their efforts and thus you have reinforced the behavior you don't want to see.
The disgusting thing is, people at large forget that this practice holds true at no matter what age a person is. The toddler given a cookie after being told no dessert for beating up other children and crying until you feel your ears are going to bleed is no different from the teenager out after curfew. You can't say to yourself "Oh, well, if I ground him, he's going to hate me. Some one may say I'm a bad parent if he complains." and then not punish them with the stated consequence (grounding for staying out after curfew). It tells them that your rules are optional.
It undermines your authority and takes away your ability to maintain it as well. It may be less work to say "Ok, you're only 15 min late getting in. I'll let it slide this time." for a full week of the child getting in late, but it will lead to the child pushing the envelope and that time stretching out to something like 30min, an hour, or the whole night over time. You need to hold the line on your rules and commit to following thru on them.
Here's the other half of this... you need to also be good on your word for the good things too. If you tell Junior that you're going to go to the baseball game with him, then make time and do it in the near future. Schedule the time into your day planner and write it on the calendar at home where Junior can see it too. Failing to be the person who is also going to be supporting and encouraging via positive reinforcement and keeping their word will erode your crediblity as a parent just as fast as being a lax diciplinarian.
But.. what do I know? I don't have any kids and I am out of touch with popular culture.
I'll wait a few seconds...
Ok, I'll assume that you have read this particular article. Now, on one hand, you could say, "Wow, that's horrible! Who would do something like have their kid arrested for filching their Christmas gifts early?" and on the other hand, "What the hell is so wrong with a child that they need the 'lesson' of being arrested for filching their Christmas present early?"
I think the important part of this story is not the Christmas present, like it is designed to read. The important part is:
The boy, who has been diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, is already facing an expulsion hearing at his school for attempting to hit a police officer assigned to the school last month. The boy's case will be presented to York County's Department of Juvenile Justice, which will decide what action to take. Ms Ervin told the Associated Press she hoped the authorities could scare her son into behaving himself. "It's not even about the Christmas present," she said. "I'd rather call (the police) myself than someone else call for him doing something worse."
Now, maybe it's just me, but doesn't it strike you as somewhat desperate to have to take these measures? Please, don't read that as a slight against the mother. But, the act of reporting your child for petit larceny after they have gotten into the Christmas gift is rather extreme compared to something such as grounding or taking away said gift. Perhaps this is a sign of a larger problem, one that perhaps extends beyond the child's ADHD and into how it is handled by the people around him. Is it perhaps a sign that our society's efforts to avoid teaching discipline via the application of discipline when children misbehave is not working?
Oh, I know, I sound like a curmudgeon. It doesn't change the distinct possiblity that I might be right, here. It may seem a little crazy, but perhaps the reason why this child gets into so much trouble is because his behavior is tolerated. One could argue that a policy of continual capitulation to "problem children" on the part of the schools is a dramatic part of the problem of excessive permissiveness. Oh, I know, I know, one of the wits reading this is going to say that I am taking to hard of a stance and that there's nothing that can be done to resolve this problem.
I challenge that assumption. You would have no concept of self-discipline if you were not educated by having been subjected to some form of discipline when you were younger. Children learn by things such as what happens in their environment. If a child is raised in a place where there are high standards for behavior and appropriate consequences for failing to meet those standards, eventually it will become habitual to operate close to the standards to avoid the punishment. One habit has set in, it becomes very hard to break. In the case of self-discipline, it is a continuation of the habit of avoiding the problems associated with poor behavior.
I'm not saying that I have all the answers, but perhaps we need to rethink our strategy on disciplining children. Being their "friend" rather then their parent or the authority figure in a relationship is clearly not working. This whole concept of having a parent concerned if their children "likes" them or thinks they're "cool" parents... the more and more it stinks of an avoidance behavior and an effort not to take responsiblity for being a parent.
I understand that raising children is hard work. It's probably the hardest job on the planet next to that Alaskan deep sea fishing job.. (Is that still listed as the official 'hardest job in the world'?) It may sound ignorant as hell for a woman who has no children to be saying these things too. I'm planning on having kids, though, so I need to think about them. From the models of child rearing that I have seen thus far, I am inclined to argue that very few of the 'popular' ones are working and the country is just going to get progressively worse the more people attempt to avoid doing the hard and painful work of disciplining their children.
I've worked with toddlers. It does tug at your heart strings when they are crying over the fact that they don't get that dessert after dinner because they decided to beat the snot out of another child. It makes you feel bad to see a child crying over anything. That doesn't mean that you try to make it all better by giving them a cookie "just this one time" or a new toy. You can't bribe children to behave. It does not work. They will view it as a reward to their efforts and thus you have reinforced the behavior you don't want to see.
The disgusting thing is, people at large forget that this practice holds true at no matter what age a person is. The toddler given a cookie after being told no dessert for beating up other children and crying until you feel your ears are going to bleed is no different from the teenager out after curfew. You can't say to yourself "Oh, well, if I ground him, he's going to hate me. Some one may say I'm a bad parent if he complains." and then not punish them with the stated consequence (grounding for staying out after curfew). It tells them that your rules are optional.
It undermines your authority and takes away your ability to maintain it as well. It may be less work to say "Ok, you're only 15 min late getting in. I'll let it slide this time." for a full week of the child getting in late, but it will lead to the child pushing the envelope and that time stretching out to something like 30min, an hour, or the whole night over time. You need to hold the line on your rules and commit to following thru on them.
Here's the other half of this... you need to also be good on your word for the good things too. If you tell Junior that you're going to go to the baseball game with him, then make time and do it in the near future. Schedule the time into your day planner and write it on the calendar at home where Junior can see it too. Failing to be the person who is also going to be supporting and encouraging via positive reinforcement and keeping their word will erode your crediblity as a parent just as fast as being a lax diciplinarian.
But.. what do I know? I don't have any kids and I am out of touch with popular culture.
stupid quizzes
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test
And now for the personality disorder quiz from the same website...
Disorder | Rating
Paranoid: High
Schizoid: Moderate
Schizotypal: Very High
Antisocial: Moderate
Borderline: Very High
Histrionic: Very High
Narcissistic: High
Avoidant: Very High
Dependent: High
Obsessive-Compulsive: High
amusing... been a while since I took it. i guess my borderline numbers came down and the antisocial numbers went up
LOL
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | Very High |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | Very High |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Very High |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Very High |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Moderate |
| Level 7 (Violent) | Extreme |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Very High |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | Very High |
Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test
And now for the personality disorder quiz from the same website...
Disorder | Rating
Paranoid: High
Schizoid: Moderate
Schizotypal: Very High
Antisocial: Moderate
Borderline: Very High
Histrionic: Very High
Narcissistic: High
Avoidant: Very High
Dependent: High
Obsessive-Compulsive: High
amusing... been a while since I took it. i guess my borderline numbers came down and the antisocial numbers went up
LOL
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