Birthday approaches

So, we're down to 20 days until the baby's due date. I'm excited -- truly -- and looking forward to meeting him.

I'm also scared shitless in a way I wasn't before Z was born. Before she was born, labor and delivery was something that, although it looked painful, was normal and ended, generally, with perfectly healthy results. My mom's story of birthing me, which is the story I know better than any other, is a story of having me so fast the hospital wasn't really ready for me.

But as you may know, the story of birthing Zadie was somewhat different. It took several twists and turns, involved a pretty serious mistake, and although it ended up with a healthy girl, there were moments of a blue and non-breathing one. Which is the SCARIEST SHIT EVER. And because of the interventions we had, labor was much, much more painful than I expected.

And as I look forward to the birth, I'm also looking backward at what happened then. Because although when we tell the story, we tell it that a sleepy midwife's mistake caused the whole scary ball to get rolling, there were two other problems that contributed, and both were mine alone.

First, to recap what happened briefly, my water broke on a Saturday night. We went to the hospital early Sunday morning, where a midwife assured us that if my water had actually broken, it was fine, and there was still plenty of fluid. She sent us home. The implication was that I was mistaken, and that perhaps I had peed myself. She was wrong, and it did ultimately cause a lot of the problems we faced. But I was wrong, too -- I should have advocated more strongly for myself, perhaps asked for a second opinion. I knew for sure I hadn't peed myself, and I am still not certain why I allowed myself to be turned away. I am not a shrinking violet, but in the face of a medical professional, I just went "Oh, okay, I guess" and went home.

The good news is, I wouldn't repeat that mistake.

But the other mistake was my body's. See, usually when a woman's water breaks, she's in labor already, having contractions. Or if not, they follow pretty quickly. Mine didn't react that way. I had a backache, my water broke, and then I walked around for two days with no other symptoms of labor. Which meant that by the time I was told to go to the hospital by my doctor, I was about 42 hours past when I should have originally gone in, and at that point, it was an emergency. I needed Pitocin to start contractions, I needed extra fluids to replace what I'd lost, etc. I was IVed and cathetered and stuck to the bed. And a lot of that was sleepy CNM's fault -- but some of it was my body's.

Which is why, going into this next labor and delivery scenario, I'm a little nervous. I need to be able to rely on my body to do what it's supposed to, and it let me down last time.

Since I can't control that, I'm working hardest on controlling this fear, which I know can't be good for me and won't help anything. I'm listening to a hypnosis MP3, and I imagine that will help somewhat, although since I am the queen of half-assedness*, I've never actually sat in a quiet place and listened to the whole thing. I multi-task, listening to it while gardening or baking, and when the soft voice instructs, "close your eyes," I think, "yeah, yeah, I can do that," and then I deadhead a couple more roses.

Que sera, sera, I guess.

*I'd love to see the Mary Engelbreit illustration of that.

Santa Cruz, part two (delayed!)

On Wednesday morning, we went to Kelly's French Bakery for breakfast. Sweetie loves to get a seeded baguette and a latte, I had a fruit and yogurt dish (though I stole some of the bread), and Z had a pastry. In the same little complex is a grocery store, where we picked up a bag full of snacks, and then we went to Seymour Marine Center.

I've talked this place up before, so I'll spare you some of the details (Z still will not touch the shark), but it had been a while since we took the free tour, so I signed myself and Z up for it. They start you at the statues of the elephant seals and talk a bit about them, then you walk to a gray whale skeleton and talk about whales and baleen for a while (they pass around two kinds of baleen to touch). Then you go through a gate, where you have to be quiet and promise not to take pictures. It's a research facility, and we got to see two dolphins and a monk seal that they keep there. One thing I heard this time that I thought was funny (and didn't remember) is that both dolphins had been used by the Navy in training experiments (I knew that part), and that both would were very compliant, and would do literally anything they were asked to. Except that one of them would not leave the bay, and, as our docent explained, "you can't drag a dolphin," so he ended up not being particularly useful. The other one would also do anything... except come back home at night, and "you can't drag a dolphin..."

Anyway, we had a nice time, then we drove just down the road to Natural Bridges again. It was another lovely day, with the exception of a little wind that had kicked up so that sand blew in our faces. I went tide pooling with Z and saw (although I didn't know it until later) an egg ribbon from a Monterey sea lemon.

When we were done with the beach, we went back to the hotel to rest and clean up, and then we walked downtown for a final dinner. There's a sushi place that we've passed dozens of times in a kind of strip mall a block from the main drag. Given that we've tried a few sushi places in town and never been blown away, we really didn't give this place a second thought. But I had recently caught up with a friend I've known since fourth grade (!) who used to live in Santa Cruz, and he recommended it. Oh man! I think we finally have another dinner joint locked in. Not only did they have a ton of veggie rolls, they had two combination platters of veggie rolls so that you could sample three at a time, but only get half a roll of each. I had the #2 combo this time, but next time, I'll try the other. They had some odd things in them, like macadamia nuts, but they also had very traditional sushi, and my favorite was the shiso, ume, and yamaimo roll (shiso is an herb, ume is pickled plums, and yamaimo is like a yam). My esteemed dining companions' dinners looked good, too, especially the kid's plate, which was both generous and inexpensive.

We all saved a little room for ice cream, and we went to Mission Hill Creamery, whose list of flavors had caught our eye earlier. They had really interesting flavors, like plum-zinfandel sorbet. We all got something delicious.

In the morning, we headed once more to Cafe Brazil. Sweetie is developing a whole theorem on how to get the most out of multiple visits to that place. I need to find salsa Lizano around here somewhere, is what needs to happen. I could make scrambled eggs and tortillas and rice, and I could probably even fry up some plantains, but it's the sauce that makes it.

Then we hit the road! We drove to San Francisco to go to the Academy of Sciences. They have a new skulls exhibit, which we checked out first. Z was not as fascinated by it as we were (and in fact, she was a little grossed out that Sweetie touched a skull, and she wouldn't hold his hand all day).

We next went through the rainforest exhibit, an enclosed, humid, three-story structure that you walk up via a spiral ramp. At each level is something new to look at -- butterflies, birds, pitcher plants, snakes, poison dart frogs -- and finally you have to check yourself for butterfly hitchhikers before you leave. You exit through the aquarium, where we spent a great deal of time. Then we walked kind of willy-nilly through the other exhibits, Africa and earthquakes and hissing cockroaches, oh my! We had never done the planetarium show with Z -- probably, she was too little last time -- so we did it this time. It was cool! The effects were kind of amazing, to the point that once or twice I felt like I was moving. It was narrated by Neil Degrasse Tyson, who is one of Z's heroes, and it was all about dark matter and dark energy. It likely went over her head, but it actually explained it in a way that I could understand it (which I admit, I never really did before). I think the most interesting part was about two-thirds through, when they turned off the audio track and a live guy narrated for a while. Not because he was especially great, but because (as Sweetie and I agreed later) they were probably updating it to the most current information.

We stayed basically until it closed, then settled in for the LONG drive home. It's not that far from San Francisco to Sacramento, but leaving SF at 5pm on a weekday is... well, we could have planned that better.

Pictures follow!

This was the early rangers walk. Z is considering a career in rangering, so she had to ask how often he has run across bears. 

After finishing a scavenger hunt, she got a pacific sand dab trading card and a hand stamp. 

Beach beauty. 

Tidepooling. 

My egg ribbon. I had to ask my friends via Facebook what it was, and there were about 20 dick jokes before a marine biology guy jumped in. My people. 

When these two aren't getting on each other's last nerve, they are best friends. That's my favorite.

Santa Cruz

I'd better start writing before I forget everything!

We skipped town on Sunday in the late morning and drove straight through to Santa Cruz, making good time until we hit traffic outside of San Jose. We stopped for gas (and a potty break), but still managed to make it in about 2 1/2 hours. The hotel wasn't quite ready for us to check in, so Sweetie waited on the hotel pool deck and Z and I went to a nearby playground. After settling in a bit, we walked downtown, then to Saturn Cafe for dinner. On the way back, we stopped at a candy shop called It'Sugar and Z spent a little of her pocket money on Everlasting Gobstoppers. We swam a bit before bed.

In the morning, we went to Cafe Brasil (one of the things we look forward to most), where Sweetie and I both had Gallo Pinto (a rice and bean dish served with eggs, tortillas, fried plantains, and a delicious vinegary sauce called Salsa Lizano. We came back to the hotel to grab sunscreen and beach toys, then went to Natural Bridges State Beach. At 10:30, there was an "Early Rangers" program on wetlands, frogs, and toads. It was mosty much younger kids, and Z was a little obnoxious about knowing all the answers. She even told us today that she showed the ranger the path to the pond, although she admitted he might have already known about it. Still, it was a nice little walk, and she was actually really good around the little guys -- one kept grabbing her binoculars and alternately trying to shove them into Z's eyes or rip them off Z's head. But she would say "No, thank you" and try to gently protect herself. I was proud.

After the walk, we went down to the beach and stayed for about three hours. It was really nice out. Z and Sweetie mostly hung out and let me lay on the beach and read. They explored, made sand castles, looked for shells, and dodged the waves (but not very well -- she got soaked!).

We then came home, showered and changed, and went down to Pacific Avenue. Z and I needed a snack, so Sweetie went to look at comics without us. We met him over there, then we did some book shopping. We looked around a touch more, then settled for dinner at Pono Hawaiian. It was pretty good! Sweetie had a spicy poke bowl and kahlua pork, and I had an edamame and mac nut hummus wrap. Z had a burger and fries -- not too exciting. After dinner, we grabbed a scoop of ice cream, then came back and swam for a while before bed.

Today we went to a coffee shop we like and had pastries and coffee and cocoa, then we did a bunch more shopping. Mostly we just got little things, but I also got Z's back-to-school sneakers. We got a few more books at the used book store as well. We wandered back to the hotel and split up -- Z and I to the Boardwalk, and Sweetie staying behind. I was excited to take the trolley that shuttles people between downtown and the Boardwalk. I was hoping to check out the new Marine Sanctuary, but it was closed today. The Boardwalk was a bit of a bust -- Z didn't care for her lunch, then didn't want to ride on any of the rides without me, and of course I can't ride. Finally, she went on the Swinger and we went together on the Ferris Wheel. We came back to the hotel and swam some more, then had a nice dinner at the hotel restaurant. Z seems really tired tonight, so we're retiring. So far, so good. I have lots of pictures, but it's not easy to add them with the technology I brought.

Take care,
CM

On "rape culture"

Last week, I read an article about a 16-year-old named Jada who had gone to a party, been given a drink by the young male host, and then blacked out. Later, she discovered pictures of herself being sexually assaulted at the party. Worse, her classmates and others were taking pictures of themselves, mocking the way she lay, arms and legs akimbo while unconscious, with the hashtag #Jadapose. It even got turned into a song.

On Saturday, I read a column by Ben Boychuk arguing against a Senate Bill requiring college students to obtain "affirmative consent" for sex, because (in his opinion) schools don't investigate sexual assault because there probably hasn't been any! Further, there are plenty of ways to address sexual assault already, and probably some of those women are lying anyway. Plus, rape is already a crime.

Then yesterday, I read the story of Anna, a college freshman who went to a frat party, had some drinks, then texted a friend several "get me out of here" messages. The friend came looking for her and found her being violated in a public place. He helped get her home, and when she realized what had happened (she also blacked out), she had a medical evaluation. The sexual assault nurse found evidence of "blunt-force trauma" and semen in and around her vagina and rectum. She was encouraged to report the assault to school authorities, who convened a panel and cleared the football players involved in just 12 days, without ever considering the medical evidence (two thirds of the panel never even were made aware there was medical evidence).

Perhaps you can see why the Boychuk article rubbed me the wrong way.

Early in his column, he complains about the dangers of needing to get

“ongoing” “affirmative consent” throughout “a sexual activity.”Just imagine the complications. Did she say “yes”? Be certain now. Did you get it in writing? Maybe you should have. Were you drinking? Was she? Oh no, that won’t do at all. An intoxicated person can’t consent to anything.

Mr. Boychuk, I don't want to be rude, but ongoing affirmative consent (why the scare quotes, anyway?) just means you've got her saying "yes, baby, yes!" If that's an issue for you, maybe you're the problem.

And let's talk about being drunk. Do people have a glass of wine or a beer, get busy, and still have their faculties? Sure. But in both those cases cited above the girls were so drunk they blacked out. In one case, the girl was unconscious on the floor. Guess what? Those girls could not (and did not) give consent. 

It's possible, as Boychuk asserts, that all colleges have a rape crisis center. But as you can see in the case of Anna, not all colleges take rape very seriously. One thing I left out of the summary of her case above is that the college sent letters to dozens of students naming the victim (not the accused, though -- they're still anonymous). 

Just this week, Sen. Claire McCaskill, D-Mo., released a survey alleging widespread failure among U.S. colleges and universities to arrest this widely reported epidemic of sexual assaults. Among her report’s harrowing details: More than 40 percent of 300 schools surveyed had not investigated a sexual violence claim on campus in the past five years. “Which means,” the senator said, “they’re saying that there have been zero incidents of sexual assault on their campuses in the last five years. That is hard to believe.”
Not as hard to believe as the study’s claim that universities and colleges are failing “to encourage students to report sexual violence.”

Boychuk finds it easy to believe that something like 120 campuses had zero sexual assault? Like... for reals? Ben, let me Google that for you.   Wait, here's another thing you should probably know. I'm not sure how the math works out here, but if 1 in 5 women are sexually assaulted, and NONE of them are at those 120 schools (out of the 300 studied), does that mean the rate is something like doubled at the other schools? Perhaps we should warn people! Let's tell women to go attend the rape-free schools!

In reality, women don't report rape for many reasons. One is that their names are dragged through the mud, and they're mocked, stalked, and trolled, like the two women mentioned above. Another is that to do so often involves reliving an ugly experience by being tested with an invasive rape kit in the hospital. Even if they do get the rape kit test, there's a backlog of 400,000 of them that are as yet untested (so it may not do much good anyway). Many rape victims feel re-victimized by the legal system. Many are embarrassed. Many know the justice system will fail them anyway.

You know, home burglaries don't go underreported. At least, not by much, I'd imagine. Here's why: first, when your home is burglarized, there's a chance that if you report it you can get your stuff back. This is not an option with sexual assault, so a lot of women probably think, "Why bother?" But further, when you have your home burglarized, nobody asks you whether your door looked particularly inviting. No one asks whether you often have people over. No one suggests that it's not really that bad a crime, since sometimes you invite people in, and other times you voluntarily give your electronics to e-waste recycling drives. No one talks about the time you invited the Bissel guy in to demonstrate and says, "Oh, he'll open the door to ANYONE." And when the burglars are football stars, you don't just listen to them go, "The house came on to me!" and let them go. 

Boychuk says that there is a "mostly unquestioned claim" that one in five college students are sexually assaulted. I assume that's his shitty way of questioning it. He follows this up by saying that it's, basically, a pretty big number! Uh... yeah. That doesn't mean it's wrong. 

He then starts playing with language, arguing that sexual assault is a meaningless term because it's vague enough to mean "everything and nothing." That's the argument you want to make, Ben? That maybe attempted rape shouldn't count in statistics? Here's one definition of sexual assault -- it's true there are many, but this one from Wikipedia is pretty good: 

Sexual assault takes many forms including attacks such as rape or attempted rape, as well as any unwanted sexual contact or threats. Usually a sexual assault occurs when someone touches any part of another person's body in a sexual way, even through clothes, without that person's consent.

So non-consensual sexual touching... not a big deal to Mr. Boychuk? Just checking. 

As for the fact that it's already illegal, well... yeah. That doesn't mean that sometimes we don't clarify the wording of a law, or help people understand how to avoid breaking the law. And ultimately, I'm not sure why you would write nearly 800 words arguing against the stance that people probably ought to make sure their sexual partners are willing partners. 

And finally, I know headlines are not always written by the author of an article, but we really need to lay off the scare quotes around rape culture. If you don't understand it, go learn. But don't dismiss it the way we might dismiss "sock gnomes" or something else we don't believe in. 

Read more here: http://www.sacbee.com/2014/07/12/6550454/ben-boychuk-dont-take-away-rights.html#storylink=cpy

Read more here: http://www.sacbee.com/2014/07/12/6550454/ben-boychuk-dont-take-away-rights.html#storylink=cpy

The pictures!

I didn't get quite as many pictures as I might like, partly due to being ill on Monday and partly because I didn't want to kill my battery (the app I was using for maps and wait times was helpful, so I was consulting it a lot), but we did get some nice ones.

This was in Cars Land, and for some reason she really wanted a photo here. 

The morning with Grandma.

Jungle Cruise. She was nervous at several points, but as soon as the "danger" passed, she was cool again. 

The iconic photo, right? 

He really enjoys making the teacup go. 

She loved the princesses, hugged every one, and told them how beautiful they were. 

Not a great shot, but she loved this Tarzan treehouse, and went on it three times. 

With breakfast, because it was her birthday trip, they gave her a chocolate cupcake. 

Exiting Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. I did not remember that it took you through Hell!

Chip and Dale. One of them has a red nose. That one is either Chip or Dale. That's how you tell them apart. 

Slushy!

Getting splashed at Grizzly River Rapids.

A view of the hotel lobby.

The gorgeous front doors of the hotel.

The giant Lego store had several big Lego figures.  

Perhaps my favorite: Sweetie and Boompah on the Tower of Terror (back row left and center).

SCOTUS and the Hobby Lobby decision

Here is a quick run-down of the news today: Hobby Lobby (and two other companies) sued because the ACA requires that birth control be covered, and they say they're religious, so they shouldn't have to cover it for employees, because it restricts their religious freedom. The Supreme Court agreed.

Here are the things I think are dumb about that.

First, Hobby Lobby is not a person, it is a corporation. Therefore, it can't *have* a religion.

Second, what employees do with their compensation package is none of an employer's business. You pay me my paycheck, and I can spend it on whatever I want. You pay part of my health care package, and I get to use it as I and my doctor see fit.

Third, it doesn't force the employer to go against their religious belief at all. Does it make them use birth control? Nope. End of story.

Fourth, the SCOTUS opinion said that it was because of the company owners' "firmly held belief." Apparently, that firmly held belief does not stretch to extend not investing in contraceptive companies, not covering employee birth control before the ACA, and/or not importing goods from China, where governmental policies lead to 13 million abortions per year, some of them forced on unwilling women. In other words, "firmly held belief" my fat ass.

Fifth, the owners' objection to the kinds of birth control in the suit is that they are abortifacients -- that they prevent implantation of a fertilized embryo. Now, this is NOT accurate according to science and the studies that have been done on them. The IUD and the morning-after pill both prevent fertilization. Which is different. So even though what they believe is demonstrably not accurate, they still get to have their way because... belief!*

Lots of people are wandering blindly around the internet going, "Oh, too bad the sluts are going to have to pay for their whore pills now, boo-hoo. What is it, $10 at Planned Parenthood?" Well, actually no. The IUD (which has a higher effectiveness rate and fewer side effects than many other forms of BC) costs about $1000 to get put in. And emergency contraception is only about $45, but can be very difficult to get -- some pharmacists refuse to fill the prescription, and some pharmacies don't carry it. Further, Tea Party/Republican/Christian Coalition folks have worked very hard to limit access to Planned Parenthood, such that there are states like Texas where it has been defunded entirely.

I'm very pro-choice, but I'm of the opinion that abortion should be safe, legal, and rare. If you're against abortion, limiting women's access to contraception seems counter-intuitive. I mean... right?

And finally, the thing that probably pisses me off the most needs a bit of explanation. One of the arguments against this whole thing was that if we permit corporations to hold religious beliefs and grant them exemptions to laws (like the ACA) based on those beliefs, that logically, we could (would have to!) grant exemptions to Muslim and Hindu business owners from covering any kind of medication in a gel-cap (because of the use of pork and cow gelatin), to Christian Scientists from covering blood transfusions, to Scientologists from covering mental health medications and psychiatric treatment, etc. Now look -- I'm the first to point out when someone is using a slippery slope fallacy. That one goes like this: If we do this, then we'll HAVE to do this. Even though there's no "have to" about it. Like with gay marriage. People were saying "If you let two guys marry, next you'll have to let a guy marry his dog!" Well... no. You can certainly limit marriage to humans.

But in this case, a deeply held religious belief has been found to be reason enough to exempt the holder of said belief (er, the holder's for-profit corporation) from providing that medical coverage. So... is there any reason on earth that this wouldn't be true for other religions?? Justice Alito thinks so!** And there are really only two possibilities as to why, and BOTH of them piss me right the fuck off.

Here's the first scenario: It holds true in this case, but not in others, because Christianity is the default religion, and other religions are wackadoo, and we needn't give them the same equal protection.

Here's the second: This case only affects women, whereas the decisions about gel-caps or blood transfusions could affect all people, so this one's not as important.

With all that said, there are a lot of people on MY side of the debate wandering blindly around the internet going, "But birth control is often used for stuff other than preventing babies!" Yeah, true, and we should remember that when they come after hormonal birth control like the pill, which this decision does NOT affect. But even though the pill is great for endometriosis, acne, dysmenorrhea, etc., it's also great for preventing babies when you don't want to get pregnant for whatever reason. I kind of hate hearing the argument, "We're not all big sluts! I take it for endo!" Because wanting to have sex and not have a baby is... FINE. And if your particular belief says otherwise, then goody for you. But Hobby Lobby employs 13,000 people, and they shouldn't get to make that decision for their employees, who have, presumably, their OWN faiths and moral values.


*In my opinion, this probably should have been the end of it. Like so...
Hobby Lobby: We don't want to cover IUDs because we believe they cause abortions.
SCOTUS: Oh. Well, they don't. Case dismissed!

**His decision concerns only the contraceptive mandate and should not be understood to hold that all insurance-coverage mandates, e.g., for vaccinations or blood transfusions, must necessarily fall if they conflict with an employer’s religious beliefs. 

Disneyland! (Part 2)

We left our intrepid explorers in the late afternoon of their second day at the Disneyland park. Z and I were poolside, and Mom joined us for a while.

Next, we split up: Mom and Boompah went to dinner at a swanky hotel restaurant called the Napa Rose (more on that later), and Sweetie, Z and I headed back into the park for MORE FUN!! First, we went to Pirates of the Caribbean. I remembered it vaguely from childhood, but it still surprised me -- I had forgotten there is a rather rapid drop in pitch darkness. Also, I got a little disoriented. When we went in the building, it was almost dusk, and we were in there for a few minutes, but by the time we went by the restaurant inside the ride, it seemed pitch black. I asked Sweetie, "Is it that dark already?" He gave me the look and said, "It is when you're INSIDE." I knew WE had gone into a building, but I just sort of lost track of where the building began and ended, and the dining area really looked like a courtyard! (I'm not crazy: it looks like this.)

Anyway, I thought it was great fun, and Z seemed to as well. She was pretending she was a pirate, too!

Next was the Haunted Mansion, which I remembered only a tiny bit of, so it was like an all-new experience. I thought it was pretty cool -- from the little bucket chairs that you enter from a conveyor belt (which seems to heighten the sense of urgency), to the big elevator you descend in to even get there, to the projected faces on the statues... I thought it was cool how they mixed more high-tech effects with pretty low-tech stuff, and it really created a multi-textural sort of feel. And it wasn't too scary for Z. 

She had been asking for cotton candy, so Sweetie bought her some, and we sat together and ate it, and then went off for something more like a real dinner. In Adventureland was a place called Bengal Barbecue, and there we each got one skewer of something (veggies, beef, and chicken) and Sweetie and I shared a pretzel as well. I couldn't quite finish my veggies, but I got close. Then we decided to try for just ONE more ride. I had been using an app on my phone which lists wait times, and the wait time for Mr. Toad's Wild Ride was quite short, so we started heading that way. The crowds were MASSIVE, and on several pathways, Disney "cast members" were waving people in one direction to clear a way for the parade, I think. We made it, with some difficulty, all the way to Fantasyland where the ride is only to find that it was closed because of the fireworks show. At that point it was quite late (way past Z's bedtime, to the point that she was actually asking to go back to the hotel), so we started trudging back, but right as we got to the Disneyland Railroad (the last thing before the gates), the fireworks show started. And it was... really cool. Sweetie has NO interest in fireworks. If asked, he will generally complain about what a waste they are. But I love them! I have been known to climb up on a ladder in the street or on the roof of my house to get a better look at a fireworks display. Anyway, this one beats all of them, including the pretty amazing one I saw in Chicago at the Navy Pier. They had music going, and clips from the movies, and the dialogue was timed to the fireworks, so that when Gepetto wishes upon a star, a firework that looks like a shooting star flies across the sky! And when the fairies in Sleeping Beauty are arguing about whether to add a final touch of pink or blue, pink and blue bursts are going off in the sky! There was a long section from Mary Poppins, which Z is now interested in as well. She was like, "Tell me ALL about Mary Poppins," and I'm all, "Uh, she's a nanny, and she's... magic, and... she has a chimneysweep friend. Uh.... she sings a song about a spoonful of sugar..."

Wednesday was our last day. We had a character breakfast scheduled at 7:50, but we hauled ass to make it onto one more ride, taking advantage of our early admission. Sweetie and Z went for California Screamin', which was a good-looking coaster! I haven't focused on the fact that I am 8 months pregnant, and therefore incapable of going on several of the rides, but I will indulge myself for a moment: I absolutely love rides and roller coasters, and I would have gone on ANYTHING there. I'm never even nervous. I never get motion sickness. I used to beg my friends to come to the state fair with me just to ride the rides, and someone would volunteer, saying they too would ride anything without fear or sickness, and almost without fail, they'd puke at some point. Not me! Anyway, I was pretty jealous that they got to go on this one and I didn't. It did a loop-de-loop, and when it started it looked like they were shot out of a cannon! So fun! And you can tell the fun by the looks on their faces: 

(Okay, you can't tell from their faces, but look at the faces of the people behind them. 

Sheer joy, right?)

After this, we went back to the hotel for a breakfast in the Storyteller's Cafe. Boy, I'll tell you what -- they are NOT messing around with food at this joint. It was a buffet, but it was like the best buffet ever. I had eggs, hash browns, pastries, fruit, and French toast. There was a seeded wheat croissant that was wonderful -- I'd buy a dozen anytime. And throughout breakfast, we were visited by Chip (or Dale -- the difference between them became a source of confusion for me), two different bears, and a raccoon. (Secret confession time: my favorite childhood stuffed animal was a raccoon named Rocky, and I have a particular fondness for stuffed raccoons -- not real ones -- and so I was kind of really stoked to have my picture taken with him.) They even got up and played the hokey pokey. 

Back to the park! From our hotel, California Adventure was slightly easier to access, so we went there first and wound our way through the Hollywood area and Buena Vista Street. I hadn't seen any of that yet, and it's really lovely. It kind of reminded me of Palm Springs in that it looks all retro Spanish-style, but is completely fake. We saw that the line for "Soarin' Over California" wasn't that long, and some friends of Mom's had said to make sure to see that, so we did. You go through an airplane hangar, then you get in these big comfy seats, belt yourself in, and it lifts you up to watch a movie -- probably helicopter footage -- where you appear to be flying over parts of California. It's almost like a promotional tourism office film, in that it highlights our best features, but it's a pretty competent illusion, too! As soon as you pick up speed (or the movie does), they blow air at you. Then there are dips and bumps and you tilt as the camera does. Pretty cool! And it showed the ocean, Yosemite, San Francisco, Napa, the mountains, people on the American river, LA, and ended with you up close and personal with the fireworks show at Disneyland. (Hey Dad -- at one point we "flew" right over the deck of a big aircraft carrier, so we made sure to tell Z that you had worked on that kind of boat.)

Z wanted to go on Pirates again and to take Mom and Boompah, so the four of us went while Sweetie rode Indiana Jones again. Then she snookered me into going into Tarzan's Treehouse with her. Next, we went back to Fantasyland for Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (quite clever and fun, I thought), and then Sweetie and Boompah wanted to ride the Matterhorn Bobsleds. Z didn't want to, so she and Mom and I sat out and had some cold drinks. It took them quite a while, and we had made plans to meet an old high school friend of mine for lunch on Main Street. It was early, only 11:15, and neither Mom nor I could even think about eating again, so we just had iced tea and visited. 

We all met up again by about 1, but Boompah wanted to see the old Disneyland Hotel, so the remaining four of us decided to go on the Disneyland railroad. I kind of pushed for it, because I often like the experience of seeing something from up high or outside. I love taking the Monorail at the fair, because it helps you orient yourself, I think. This railroad wasn't great for that -- there were long stretches where you couldn't see much because you were in a tunnel -- but it was still fun. They even made the tunnels interesting, with random Grand Canyon exhibits or animatronic dinosaurs. And it was a nice ride. 

Mom went to the hotel while our little nuclear group went back to California Adventure. First, we got a cold slushy drink. I went and used our photo voucher to buy that awesome picture above. Then we got a couple things in that had short lines: the Golden Zephyr and the Silly Symphony Swings. We also saw some performances -- a Phineas and Ferb rock and roll party, and the green army men. We had agreed to meet Mom around 3:30 so she could take Z to see the Aladdin musical, but as 3:30 approached, Sweetie and Z wanted to try to ride the water ride once more. We got Fastpasses, but they were for 5:10 to 6:10, which meant that they started while the musical was going and ended after our dinner reservation time. So we stood and got splashed by the boats for a few minutes, then went back. 

We gave Mom the Fastpasses, not knowing whether they'd use them or if Boompah would go with Z, and then we said goodbye. Mom had made reservations for dinner at the Napa Rose for us as our 9th wedding anniversary gift (it's in a couple weeks), and was also taking Z as part of the package. So we relaxed a bit, then went to Downtown Disney to shop. I had hoped to get a souvenir for Z, maybe something unique for myself (I collect Alice in Wonderland stuff), and perhaps something for the baby, too. But honestly, once we got into the big Disney store, it was sort of overwhelming! It went on for ages, and there was no way to just go find your one character you liked -- you had to look at all the pins or all the keychains/shirts/mugs/ornaments/dolls/iPhone cases... you get the picture. There was just so much stuff I kind of panicked and walked out. When I found Sweetie, he looked a little shell-shocked, too. We ended up not getting anything. 

Our dinner was at an impeccably lovely place. It did remind me of Napa, and it continued the  theme of the Arts and Crafts style from the hotel. Our service was fantastic, too. There weren't that many vegetarian entrees, but when I made an inquiry that included "I'm a vegetarian," the waitress like, opened up a new portal of awesomeness, showing me all the things that could be made vegetarian and telling me about several options that weren't on the menu. I really try not to be special-needs about my diet and I generally just order off the menu, but she practically broke into song ("I can show you the world!"), so I decided to have this beautiful pizza with grapes, cambozola, and caramelized onions. It normally has proscuitto, but they left it off for me. It was delicious. It was also listed as a starter, so I wasn't sure it would be enough and I ordered a side of veggies. Sweetie had lamb, and we shared an appetizer of asparagus with "carrot silk" and carrot chips. It was all delicious, and unfortunately a bit too much -- I had to make him finish my veggies! But when she came back talking about dessert options, my philosophy is that it never hurts to just hear them. In this case, we both saw the first item listed and knew it was all over -- it was a Scharffen Berger chocolate pate. I am nutballs over Scharffen Berger. We shared it, and they were even nice enough to bring it on a plate that said "Happy Anniversary." 

We made one more stop in California Adventure so that Sweetie could ride the Grizzly Rapids thing, and I bought one small souvenir -- a bear for the baby. Then we went back to the hotel to meet Mom, Boompah, and Z. 

We thought hard about going back to the park, but the other group had had a late dinner, too, and we all ended up hanging out in the hotel lobby for a while, talking. Z was in a Stickley rocker watching Donald Duck cartoons, and she seemed perfectly content to go up and go to bed after a while, so that was essentially the end of our trip. Oh! It turns out that they had used the Fastpass for the water ride -- and my mom had gone with her!! My mom does NOT go on rides. But it seemed like she had fun. 

We're all home safe now. My stomach is still fairly queasy. The garden was dried out, but not dead. We had a quiet afternoon and evening resting and putting a few things away. I have some more observations, but they're not really about our experience as much, so I'll wait on those. I've really written a novel this time, sorry! 

If you couldn't tell, we had a really wonderful trip, and I hereby officially understand the magic of Disneyland, why it's called The Happiest Place on Earth, and why grown-ass adults go there over and over. Zadie probably said it best. On Tuesday, we asked her if she was having fun, and she said it was the best day of her life. Somewhat teasingly, we asked her on Wednesday if it was also the best day of her life. She answered seriously that EVERY day at Disneyland was the best day of her life. 

Hope you're all well. Take care, 

CM

Disneyland! (Part 1)

Wow. The last time I went to Disneyland was in the early 80s. I've only been there three times (until now), and one of those, I had pneumonia and did hardly anything, so my memories of it were very sparse. I remember a Yeti on the Matterhorn, the cannons of Pirates of the Caribbean, and seeing a ghost in our reflection in the Haunted Mansion. Even those are hazy -- I thought I was in the Haunted Mansion with my cousin Cristin, but my mom says we never went with those cousins, so who knows?

If you follow my blog here, either you already know me pretty well as a person, or you have learned a pretty good bit about me, but let me reiterate something I think is important. I am an optimist, and probably one of the happiest, most cheerful, almost annoyingly Pollyanna-ish people I know. And I can be a real cynic who is repelled by smarminess, hokum, and crass commercialism. We don't even have commercial TV in the house anymore, but if we somehow spot or hear a commercial, I usually say "Boo! Commercial!"

So I was excited about going to Disneyland, but I was a little worried that it would be, well, hokey and commercial. It mostly wasn't. It was beautiful. At one point, I almost cried at how pretty it all was. That's not to say that the cynic in me completely quieted down, but it was a pretty small wedge of the How-I-Felt-About-Disneyland pie chart.

This trip was a gift from Mom and Boompah to Z for her 6th birthday. We set off on Monday morning pretty early, and the traveling was easy, with one exception -- I had gotten food poisoning! I felt a little queasy the night before in bed, but thought it was just reflux or too big a dinner. But about 5 minutes before our boarding time, I went into the airport bathroom and puked voluminously. I vomited once more in the airplane bathroom, and that was the end of it, but I did feel pretty out of sorts all day. In fact, I still feel kind of terrible that I was an attendee at several expensive meals, and I   ordered a dish, but wasn't able to eat much. Both the raviolis at the Storyteller's Cafe and the corn cakes at Ariel's Grotto were lovely, but I basically ate less than a third of each dish.

Anyway, we got a shuttle to the Disney Grand Californian, which was jaw-droppingly beautiful. It's apparently modeled after the Ahwanee in Yosemite, but it's enormous. The attention to detail is flabbergasting -- there's wallpaper that coordinates with the borders and marble floors whose patterns meld into plush carpeting and reproduction Stickley tables in the lobby and Tiffany-styled lamps and just... EVERYTHING. The light fixtures and the wall texture and the elevator doors... It was the most aesthetically pleasing hotel I've ever been in, and luxurious and quiet to boot. They even had a bunch of kid-sized Stickley-styled rockers in front of a TV in the lobby that played old cartoons. Z loved that.

Wait, have I not even gotten past the hotel yet? Maybe this is going to have to be a two-parter. We went first to California Adventure. I wasn't sure how big the parks were or where they were located or anything, so I didn't know it was so easy to go back and forth, and I had thought we'd to CA one day and Disneyland the other two. As it was, we switched back and forth a great deal. Sweetie and Z went first to the race cars in Cars Land, which is apparently a very popular feature. I found a shady place to sit and mostly just did so. By the time they were done (she had a blast), I wasn't feeling that well, so I went back to the hotel. They stayed on and explored A Bug's World, and then someone gave them FastPass tickets for Grizzly Rapids, so they were excited to go back and do that.

By late afternoon, Mom and Boompah had arrived as well and done some exploring, and everyone came back to the hotel for a bit. Sweetie and Z were talking about going to the hotel pool, and I felt revived enough to at least change into a suit and sit poolside. There are three pools and a spa at the hotel, and one had a couple waterslides, including a charming little one with about a 10% incline for the little ones. Zadie played on the waterslide and chatted the ear off a non-English speaking little girl.

Then she and Sweetie went on their ride, and Mom and Boompah made dinner reservations for us all at the Storyteller's Cafe, and I rested just a bit more. The restaurant was also beautiful, and I had a lovely-looking dinner (I ate about two ravioli), and the service was impeccable. Because it was kind of a late evening, we retired after that.

On Tuesday, we sort of took advantage of having the "magic hour" early admission. That is to say, we woke up a little late, and then we wandered through Downtown Disney first, when if we were smart, we would have made a beeline to the gates. The first thing we did was get Sweetie, Z, and Boompah passes for Indiana Jones. We then sat down at a cafe and had some breakfast -- my appetite was returning! I ate the head and one ear of a Mickey Mouse pancake, plus a couple pieces of fruit.

While they went on the ride, Mom and I did a little shopping and looking around. I was surprised to find that the little gift shops in every area were thematic to the area! You probably know this, but nearly everything about Disneyland was a revelation to me. I told Sweetie that I was kind of expecting it to be like a bigger, better version of the state fair midway, where every vendor has the exact same crap. But not at all! The Adventureland area (where they have the Tiki Room and Jungle Cruise) has safari-print Mickey dresses. The area with the camp-type stuff sells camp blankets. It was SO commercial, but so skillfully so, I kind of forgave it!

We all went on the Jungle Cruise together, and while it was fun, this was one of the more troubling aspects of our experience. I mean, I'm sure there have been editorials and articles about this sort of thing, but let's just say that watching a rhino poke a big-lipped black guy in the butt as he tries to climb a tree was probably funnier back in the racist good old days. When we passed the African tribesmen that our guide proceeded to speak to and translate for (with a stream of gibberish and tongue-clicking), Sweetie and I gave each other the "did that really just happen?" look. While we were there, people of every ethnicity seemed to be enjoying the park, and there are certainly nods to multiculturalism ("It's a Small World" is one), but it was kind of unnerving. It was like the whole place was so steeped in nostalgia that it was largely unobservant of the actual melting pot of modern-day reality.

Another thing that was so skillful we sort of forgave it was the lines. The lines were long. LONG. But  they hid it so well and kept you so entertained that you kind of thought, "Eh, whatever." The Jungle Cruise was a perfect example. You enter the line just a few feet from where you enter the building and wind out of sight. From the front, there's no way to tell how long the line actually is. But once inside, to wind your way back and forth, in and out, upstairs and back down, past a number of clever little things to see so that you might ultimately walk half a mile without leaving the building or getting stuck in one spot!

I was delighted, however, to see Z's reaction to the Jungle Cruise. There were times when she was obviously and utterly terrified, like when the Piranhas jumped next to the boat and she yelled, "PIRANHAS!!" But moments later, when the danger had passed, she was like, "It's fine, everybody." And at the end of the cruise, the captain said something like, "I hope you weren't scared," and she said, "Not me! Not at all!"  Tough girl.

She ran up and down Tarzan's Treehouse a couple times, then we wound our way through the center of Disneyland to Fantasyland, where we saw the iconic castle, rode the teacups (yes, even the day after food poisoning, I don't get motion sickness!), and headed for It's a Small World. The boys sat that one out. But Mom and I and Z really enjoyed it. It's kind of a trip to look at it from the outside and not be aware just how big it is inside. Z loved that one, too, rounding each corner and shouting, "INDIA! CHINA! THE WEST!" She even told a little guy who was floating upwards with balloons, "Pop one of them and you'll come down!" I was excited to go on this one partly because my grandma just told me that my great-grandma had been really tickled by it. I was crazy about Granny, and I thought of her while we rode.

We then got on Star Tours. I wasn't really sure what it was, but it didn't have the "no pregnant chicks" advisory, so I signed on. All five of us wound through the very long line (even after getting a Fastpass, there was a lot of waiting), and then we finally filed into our "tour." It's one of those 3D movie things with the seats that move, and it was pretty convincing. The best part, though, was that we were stopped by Darth Vader, who said we had a "rebel spy" aboard, and then they showed the picture -- of Boompah!

After that, it was time for lunch at Ariel's Grotto, which is in California Adventure, so we hoofed it over there. We had reservations for 1:10, but  doubt we were seated until 2, because having reservations just gets you in the line. But it was worth the wait. At the bottom of the stairs, you meet Ariel, and Z was enchanted. Ariel was very beautiful, and they got to chat a little before posing for photographs. I noticed as Z skipped back to us that Ariel commented to the photographer how precious she was.

At our table, they brought lovely bread and our drinks and some veggie sticks with dip for Z, but she could NOT be bothered to eat, because there were princesses everywhere! Every couple minutes, a new princess would come by, take Z's hand, chat with her, give her a hug, and pose for pictures. We saw Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, and Aurora, and Z says she saw Prince Charming, too. The lunch there was delicious, and I was really pleased that there were healthy and vegetarian options. I had corn cakes with black beans, onions, and spinach, but again, I couldn't eat too much.

Then we split up for a while -- I needed a nap, and Mom and Z went to A Bug's Life while Sweetie and my stepdad rode Tower of Terror. I said something later about whether Sweetie had had to talk Boompah into going on the ride, and he said he really didn't have to work too hard -- Boompah was game! They got a hilarious shot from the ride-camera of the two of them falling.

This has become rather epic, so I think I will do a part 2. Tune in next time, when we'll re-join our heroes poolside, after the bugs, terror, and ... napping.

This and that

Well, vacation has begun! This seems to be the week o' appointments I've been putting off, which is normal for the first week of vacay. I haven't yet taken the car in, which usually happens pretty soon, and I haven't gotten sick (knock wood!), but otherwise, this is about typical in my 14-year teaching experience. I'm tired as HELL and concurrently devoted to getting some stuff done.

The pregnancy is going fine. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Little guy moves less frequently than Z did, but when he does, he feels big and strong! He does big somersaults instead of little tap-dances. I'm hoping that his long, quiet periods indicate that he's, just maybe, a more restful child than his sister. I love her to itty-bitty-bits, but by god is she hard to raise sometimes.

She's so interesting, too. I've noticed that when she hears a song she likes, she starts to "sing along" with it, even though she may never have heard it before. She mumble/hums like you do when you know a song, but don't remember the lyrics to that one line, and she's fairly convincing; she has an ear for music, so she does a good job of anticipating which note will come next. Therefore, even though she's mumbling, she's often got the melody right.

She's been begging to get her ears pierced. We initially told her she could in August, after all our camping and everything is done (so that we don't have to worry about keeping her ears clean while camping). But she made a compelling case for getting them done earlier, so I agreed. I took her yesterday, and I tried to prepare her for what would happen. She seemed to want it not to hurt at all, and I wouldn't lie to her -- it DOES hurt, of course. So we set up a kind of "safe word," so that she could complain and express fear and nervousness, but we wouldn't just leave unless she said the secret word. We filled out all the paperwork, chose jewelry, the guy set up his station, autoclaved everything, and had her ears cleaned and marked and clamped before she bailed. He had told me it was $25 to cover all the set-up if we did chicken out, so I paid that. Honestly, I still think it was overall a good experience. Now she knows what it will be like, and we don't have to deal with the begging for another year.

She and I are both a little obsessed with birth right now. I notice that the number of "How You Were Born" books I pick up from around the house has increased, and yesterday she told me she wanted to design a "birth-themed water park." Obviously in my mind, this translates to a 5-story pair of spread legs, but who knows what it's like in hers. About once a week, I wake in the night (to go to the bathroom) and end up staying awake thinking/worrying about birth. I just had such a rough time last time, and I want this one to go well. I'm trying to do these positive, creative visualizations, but it still sort of amounts to obsessing and worrying.

I get to be on a garden tour this year! I'm so stoked. Unfortunately, we've had some really hot days, and the city has limited us to watering two days a week, so some of my plants are suffering. I'm hoping to get everything back in tip-top shape by September, when the tour is.

I haven't done much on the creative front lately, but I'm helping to copy-edit our local poetry journal, which is fun. Now Z is demanding some attention, so I'd better go.

Take care,
CM

Fence-sitter, or "I love-hate pregnancy"

I have found that there are many areas of life where, even when I have strong views, they tend not to be black and white. Instead of being wishy-washy or a fence-sitter, I prefer to think of myself as nuanced and complex. (I am winking, here.)

I have heard so many people lately say that they LOVED being pregnant -- they'd do it a hundred times more if they didn't have to raise the children! Or that they HATED it, but at least the end result was worth it. I feel... neither.

See, I love the part with the kicks and turns and getting to communicate with my kid before he's born. I remember singing in the car and feeling Zadie kick, and thinking that I am the only one who knows she likes Paul Simon before she's even born!

But I can't pretend I love the lower back pain or that it doesn't exist.

But I also feel beautiful and womanly and curvaceous, and my skin is in great shape.

And I'm so bone-tired by the end of the day. I am a person with a lot of energy, and feeling like I just can't do one more thing after about 8:30 is disheartening.

I've never felt harassed by strangers trying to touch my belly. In fact, the few people who have are usually good friends or family. Sometimes I have to suggest they do it -- my mom has hardly touched it! It doesn't bother me a bit.

It is somewhat uncomfortable, however, to feel so looked at in public all the time. Like, I've spent most of my adult life overweight (with brief periods otherwise), so I suspect sometimes people look and judge, but I never really notice it. But when you're pregnant, people openly look at you, ask about your body (well, about how far along you are, your due date...), and are evaluating. They're not even doing it in a mean or judgmental way most of the time, but they're giving it careful and obvious thought, because they want to be good at guessing. So someone will ask, "When are you due?" and when you answer "three months from now," they will size up your belly and go "Wow!" Because yep, I am HUGE.

And I'm fine with that. I understand my own body, and one of the things I've figured out is that I have a very short waist -- there's really nowhere for a baby to go but out.  So it goes out. It's supposed to. In fact, I'm very pleased that everything is going as it is supposed to this time around.

So there are ups and downs. Shades of gray. I love parts and I hate parts, and that's all okay.

Next week marks 28 weeks, or the FINAL COUNTDOWN. I'm getting excited!

Letter to a new mom

I have a couple close friends who are pregnant. I don't give advice generally unless someone asked, but one of them asked! So here's a version of the letter I'm going to send her.

There are just a few pieces of advice I wish I'd had before I started parenting, and that I'm glad to have the opportunity to remind myself of now, before I start the journey again. They go like this:

Make your decisions out of love. But understand that sometimes that love is love for yourself, for your husband, or for your relationship. That's all okay. 
We all tend to question ourselves: is it right to go back to work so soon, to not work, to breastfeed, to not breastfeed, to let the baby cry, to feed it conventional fruits, and a thousand other things. I think that if you are making the decisions out of love, you are going to be fine, and so will the baby. See, I could be a stay-at-home mom -- if we lived in a MUCH worse neighborhood and a smaller house. Am I doing the right thing by working? Well... YES! I get a lot of satisfaction from my career, and I am happy we can provide a safe and stable environment for my kid. That's love, for me, and for her.
If you are frustrated and stressed and tired and you really need to go get a massage and see a movie, then do it -- the decision isn't coming out of a LACK of love for your child, but out of self-love, which is important, too. And when you mess stuff up, forgive yourself out of that same self-love well. You'll be setting an important example.


Go ahead and make plans, but be flexible enough to change to plan B, C, D and so on. And to make new plans on the spur of the moment. 
We had so many plans when Z was born. First was the birth plan (which got scrapped when the birth went horribly awry). We planned to have her sleep in a crib in her own room (and then she screamed bloody murder, even from a deep sleep, when we took her anywhere near it). I planned to breastfeed until she weaned herself, which I assumed would be at about a year (HAHAHAHAHAHA! She kept going until 2 1/2, at which point I decided to bribe her to get her to stop). The thing is, babies really aren't cogs that you can fit into a pre-selected agenda. They are people, and just like with spouses and friends and co-workers and neighbors... you have to figure out how your needs and their needs meet and make allowances for the people they are. It's when you don't have flexibility that it starts to feel like butting your head against a wall, because, well, you are.



No one knows your child like you and your husband. 
People say lots of stuff. Sometimes they just like to hear themselves talk. Sometimes they are wise and sometimes they are full of shit (myself and this whole letter included). If YOU think there is something wrong with your kid, there probably is. If you think the kid is too tired to stay out later, they are. If YOU think they're allergic to gluten or ADHD or whatever, as long as you don't have a tendency to the hypochondriac, they probably do. I have a cousin who, at almost 3, still wasn't talking much. We all said it was no big deal, boys talk later, etc. But they had him evaluated, and he has Autism. They got early treatment for him, and he's integrated in regular classrooms now and doing brilliantly! The rest of us should have shut the fuck up, because the parents knew something was up. People tell me all the time that ADHD isn't real, or it's over diagnosed, or kids who are medicated turn into zombies, or yadda yadda. But I know my kid best -- she's not a zombie, and she's WAY happier and more successful on the medication.
This doesn't just go for negatives, either -- sometimes people will think there's something wrong with your kid ("He's so cold! Doesn't he need a sweater?"), and you'll know he's fine (he's snuggling contentedly). You know him best.



Keep the lines of communication open.
This one goes for the kid, too, but it's mainly relationship advice. Parenting together is HARD. Like, really hard. Sweetie and I pretty much agree on everything, never fight, and have spent 11 years without a major disagreement or even, if I am remembering correctly, raising our voices at each other. But parenting has made me want to kill him once in a while. Let's say, for example, that I think I'm doing all the work with the kid, or that I disagree with his methods of discipline -- I tend to seethe in anger, writing angry secret missives and lying awake at night. And then finally I get to this point where I say, "Hey, I'm feeling like this doesn't work." And sometimes then HE'S pissed off, seething that I would criticize his parenting, and probably (just a guess) filled with self-doubt, too. And then a day or two later, he starts addressing the issue, and life gets a lot better. You just have to talk about stuff.
Of course, this means listening, as well. I'm hoping my kid knows I listen to her and take her seriously, because if she does, then maybe she'll continue to talk to me into those rough teenage years. I can only hope.

Be consistent. 
You have no idea how hard this one is, and yet most of the problems we ever face around here are consistency issues. She had a bad day? We didn't get her to bed early enough the night before. Fight over cleaning her room? We didn't insist on the 5-minute before-bed clean-up we set in place. She's begging for candy before dinner? Shouldn't have let her have it yesterday as a special treat. Discipline isn't about punishment and consequences -- discipline is largely about having set expectations and sticking to them. Life is SO much easier when we don't screw this one up, even though the actual consistency part of it is really hard, too. Why NOT let her stay up, when there's only 10 more minutes of her program left? Why not skip the clean-up if I'm busy with other things? Consistency is a lot of work, but there's a lot of reward for it, too.

Enjoy it. 
Have you gotten this one yet? It goes so fast! They grow up before you know it! But seriously, yo -- I was JUST making this one laugh by nibbling her toes, and now she's explaining natural selection to me. Write stuff down. Take actual photographs and mental photographs. Relax and do stupid stuff, like going "AH-boo" a hundred times while poking the baby's nose. Cuddle. Take naps. The older kid stuff is fun, too, and someday I'm sure I'm going to enjoy it to an extent that she's gone and off to college or whatever. I know I'll be happy to see her get married and whatever else comes. But the little kid years do rush by, so try to be in the moment as much as you can.


I'm really excited to get to do this all again, even though writing this helps me remember some of the rougher times that I've managed to gloss over!

Sometimes the internet blows my mind

This weekend, there was a tragedy at UCSB. A man named Elliot Rodgers killed seven people, truthfully because he was mentally illl, but in his mind, because the world was unfair to him, in that he had a nice car and still couldn't get laid.

Subsequent to the news of this breaking, I learned that there are a TON of men online who gather in virtual communities to commiserate about similar things.

Now, I already knew about Men's Rights Activists. If you haven't heard of them, their party line goes something like this: women get the better hand dealt to them in society, because child custody cases are often found in their favor, because they don't have to register for the draft, and because fewer of them have died in wars over the last couple centuries. Also, men are hurt by women's suspicion of them: a woman's fear that a man following her might rape or kill her is less important than the man-following-her's being unfairly judged.

Sometimes one of these MRA guys will show up on a feminist blog I follow, and someone will respond empathetically but reasonably: "Hey, we care about the custody issue, too! Feminism is about equality." And then generally one of these guys will shoot back with "Well, it won't be equal until as many women die in wars as men have, so let's start lining up all the women and shipping them to combat zones."

And then most everybody goes like this.

But this community was new to me. These guys call themselves "wizards" (apparently there's an in-joke that if you get to 30 as a virgin, you become a wizard) or "incels" (short for "involuntary celibate"). 

The feminist blog was sort of... visited by a bunch of these guys after reporting on the Rodgers killings. And their philosophy seems to go like this: Women label them as "creeps" simply for being shy. Once a woman decides you're a creep, all women are alerted to this, and they create a vast conspiracy wherein no woman will sleep with you. Women are denying them the sex they are owed. Further, rape is really not that bad, because women sometimes have intercourse voluntarily, and they can recover from it. Whereas these men suffer in their loneliness daily, and it is therefore much worse. A few of them take that to its logical extreme: it would make sense to rape women.

Obviously, that's a pretty mentally ill standpoint. But that's where these guys live: they are owed sex by virtue of being alive, and the fact that it's not happening is an active denial on the part of those nefarious women.

Here's the thing they can't see -- if they're being called creeps, it's probably because they're CREEPY.

I'm going to say some things about my husband for a second that may sound negative. He's a D&D playing, Dr. Who-watching, introverted G.I. Joe collector with no car who would not/did not make the first move. By their logic, I should never have married him.  He should be one of them! He's (in their minds) just like them!

But I never thought for a second that he was creepy. Without knowing these guys personally, here's what I'd guess they lack that he has: he's well-groomed (clean, non-smelly, face and head hair are attended to, clothing is clean and cared-for). He's charming, and can make conversation with basically anyone (though he doesn't love to). He's funny. He's savvy about politics and world affairs. He's well-read. He's smart. He is fit. He's polite (and has good table manners, etc.). He appears at ease with women (me included/especially).

I started thinking about many of the other men in my life -- various degrees of nerds, cyclists, metal-heads, etc. And pretty much all of them ended up with attractive, talented, funny, normal women. Because they're NOT creeps. And they don't believe they are owed anything. They were looking for connections with women based on common interests, and they treat those women respectfully.

I watched one of the Elliot Rodgers videos. In it, he seems angry that a woman is with another man. Where is *his* woman, he wonders? That other guy isn't even very good-looking! But the whole time, he's speaking with an affect that would be chilling even if you weren't aware that this is the guy who killed seven people.

I don't think these guys could actually listen to reason -- they're so immersed in their own worldview that it's too late to try to convince them otherwise -- but if I could, I'd make a few suggestions. First, if someone calls you a fedora-wearing neckbeard, ditch the statement hat and shave. It's not a super-attractive grooming choice that others are spitefully shaming you for, it genuinely looks weird and unkempt. Second, make sure your clothes fit, are clean, and are, if not "in style," at least somewhat timeless. Third, shower daily, brush your teeth, and get your hair cut every six weeks or so.  Fourth, get out of the house. If you spend hours a day in your internet community, that is valuable being-in-the-world time you're missing out on. Go play tennis. Or go to a whiskey tasting. Or adopt a dog and take it to the dog park. Take a class in something. Not only will all these things probably improve your life by themselves, but sometimes WOMEN go out in public too, and you might meet one you have something in common with. You don't have to have a nice car, but it does have to be free of fast-food bags and smell clean. You don't have to have a great job, but you probably should have one. Or be in school.

The world owes you nothing. But you can bend the pathways of your life to make it more easy for things to come to you. And you can be happy, to an extent, with what you have instead of seething with anger (which generally gets you nowhere). It's like "The Secret" but with less woo-woo. If you have a positive attitude and work towards some goals, people will tend to want to be around you more, women included. If you're angry and hateful and resentful, no, a woman is not very likely to fall into your lap.

Update-y

Well, I haven't posted much about the in utero kid, because there hasn't been a lot to tell. I did have a 6-month appointment, and it all went smoothly. His heartbeat sounds great. I had just a couple questions, and we made my next appointment. I'm supposed to go have another glucose test next time. The doctor said I should go drink the goo before my appointment, then go back for the blood draw after, and that I couldn't eat or drink anything in between. But that before, I could do whatever I wanted. I said, "So I can pound a couple Pixy Stix right before?" He perked up. "Sure! In fact, it would probably help, because your body starts processing them immediately, so you'd already be making more insulin before you drank the glucose drink." He seemed kind of stoked on the idea, but I assured him I wasn't planning to throw the test.

I'm pretty huge. I keep opening doors and forgetting where my belly is, so I'll open a door right into it! Sorry, kid! Until very recently, I could look down and see boobs, but not belly, and now I can generally see belly too. One funny thing is that the old wives' tale is that you carry girls low and boys high. But I carried Z VERY high, like, the belly extended horizontally from just below my bra strap. Whereas this guy is very low indeed. In fact, he has started to kick a lot, and about half the time, the kicks feel like they're below that little crease where the top of your panties sits.

I'm really looking forward to meeting him. I'm not nervous, but I do hope I have a better labor this time. In two weeks, I'll be in the third trimester. I don't know if it's because I'm older, because of our loss last year, or for some other reason, but it seems kind of miraculous and surprising that this has all been so easy and is progressing so normally.

I haven't done anything towards re-painting Z's room or buying baby stuff, but there's always the summer.

Oh! Last thing. We have reached the stage where I can see the baby moving from the outside. It is very freaky. But so far, I'm really the only person to have seen it, because whenever I call Sweetie or Z over, he stops.