Media malnutrition

I logged onto Windows Live today. I realized about 2pm that I'm a horrible daughter and sister and had cut off all contact and I better log on. So I did.

Now, those of you unfamiliar with the Windows Live logging on process, once you log in, a pop-up comes up with how many emails I haven't read. Don't ask. It's my junk mail/what I use to register for things with/what I give strangers email, the one I never ever check so it's usually 1000+ emails. If you email my hotmail account, don't be hurt if I never return your email....

Then you get another pop-up with TODAY IN THE NEWS. And it's all tabloid stuff. I usually scan it and on very very rare occasion will look up one of the stories. But believe me, it's pretty rare. One big one lately has been, "When Oprah's recommendations go wrong" or something like that (tho I'm pretty sure it had another title...same concept). Fascinated, I looked it up. Funny, useless information about things Oprah has endorced that had a negative effect on the company vs. doing amazing things for the sales of the product. Funny. In one ear and out the other.

Today had a post about Jon (of Jon & Kate + 8) and wha his girlfriend has to say. Really. WHO CARES, right? I have to say that is defenitely one reason I do not miss American Gossip Media. Or News Media. It's all gossip anyway, right?

And it got me thinking. I am so malnourished in the wide world of what is going on. I don't watch the news here b/c it's all about bombings and what one group of people did to another group of people. Prejudice this and prejudice that. Who drank too much and cause a bar fight, who had a DUI, who was caught with drugs, whom was sleeping with who. I think it's sad that A) the media only reports on the bad stuff. B) They have to report all the crap to keep the public interested. C) That society is so bad that they're only interested in the crap. D) That I'm considered uneducated and uninteresting to talk to if I don't know the latest and greatest crap.

So here is my thoughts. You can disagree all you want. That is your right.

I have enough stress in my day to day life, that inviting the notion that something else may happen is simply adding to my stress. Don't need it.

I have a low self-body image as it is. I don't need to see who's wearing what and how they trained for 8 hours a day and flushed their colon to get in it. IT costing more than the balance on my car. Reality is, I have a toddler and I chase her for 18 hours a day and GAIN weight, making my $5 dress look like crap on me.

I love my husband dearly and deeply. He is wonderful and handsome and the best. He is the man I married and there really is no one out there better for me than him. So watching the gossip shows where no one can stay faithful b/c life got hard...BIG SHOCK, life IS hard...and they can't take any more, is a waste of time and energy on my part.

I worship God. Jesus Christ is my saviour. That is why I don't have a favorite Actress, singer, actor. It is sad that Michael JAckson died. It was amazing the things he did for pop music. He had a tragic life and that was sad. However, California should not be in debt for his funeral. I caught the replay of Princess Di's funeral, because I was a Freshman at Purdue, and I wasn't family or close personal friend and wasn't going to get myself out of bed at 5 am to watch it live. These people are just people. That's it. They spent their lives doing amazing things and contributing to society and I truly believe they would be sad to think that instead of joining their cause and helping the world, you sat around and fixated yourself on what they were wearing, what they were doing, WHO they were doing, and the list goes on. They're good people and they will be missed, but I think they would be better served by spending time and precious money on things other than them. Donate to a charity in their honor. Even if you have no money, you have time. I know you do, watching TV, reading magazines. Scanning the news racks for the latest headline containing them. That's just hours and hours of time that you could be banding together with them or their memory. So why doesn't this make sense to other people? I think all these celebrities would be sad to think that the focus was on what they wore to a charity event versus what the charity did for someone. God said worshiping Idols was a sin, and they don't call it American Idol for nothing. He never said there was anything wrong in helping another of mankind. He's all about love and kindness and stretching out your hand. Go do it.

I feel okay in the knowledge that I'm media deficiant. That I have no idea what is going on the rest of the world. I have to be IN this world. I don't have to be OF this world. And I feel happier in the knowing that I'm a little more boring because of it.

In Retrospect

I was sitting in the health center today waiting for the doctor, who was 35 minutes late, to ring my name over the announcement screen. Loud, schreaching beep. Mrs. Carli Davis flashes on the screen and makes your trip back to see the doctor more embarassing than being chosen last in Gym class back in school. But that's socialized medicine for you. Zero descression.

Oh, well.

I sat and waited. Knitting, knitting, knitting, trying to pass the time with something productive. I had a baby sweater vest that I'm closing on being done with and it was a good project to have with me. No pattern to follow, simple 2x2 ribbing boardered by garter stitch. Good. Soothing.

Enter the boys. 3 boys...aging approx. 4-7. TERRORS. Please Lord save me from crazy, out-of-control boys. I love boys. Want boys. Think the world is better for boys. God, please give me the strength to raise well behaved boys. Please. Pretty please?

But I digress.

The purpose of my dr's visit was b/c I have some odd bruising on the inside of my lips. Started Wednesday night and have spread. No, there's no ulceration, so it's not a cold sore. It's a bright red bruise. It baffled the doctor. It's numb in that area (which is just inside my lips all the way around) and feels weird to eat. Doctor had no clue. Told me it should go away eventually.

Got me thinking, though.

I wanna get pregnant. I'm craving baby #2. But I remembered all the stuff that I went through in the months that were my first pregnancy.

1. Morning/Afternoon/Evening sickness. All the time. Over everything.
2. Rash on my hands. All over my palms and wrists. Had to sleep with ice bags on my hand just so I could have itch relief.
3. I started "showing" at 3 months. That is had maternity clothes on by 3 months. Yah, that's BY THE END OF THE FIRST TRIMESTER OF MY FIRST PREGNANCY. Don't you show earlier and earlier with each pregnancy?
4. I started lactating (that's leaky boobs for those of you unfamiliar with breast feeding terminology) at 21 weeks. I wore breast pads from 21 weeks until Hazel was 14 months old. That's 16 + (4 times 14)...math don't fail me now...80 weeks. 80 times 7 days is 560 days. of breast pads. don't make me do how many breast pads I went through as that will just depress me.
5. Good old Bedrest. For no reason. Just because Hazel decided it was time to join the world 8 weeks early. Yah, bedrest isn't fun if you haven't done it.

But at the end of the day, pregnancy was wonderful. Nothing too major to complain about and although it wasn't smooth sailing....I wanna do it again. Badly.

Freaky Friday

I woke up this morning about 4:15.

Weird dream, the need to pee, and inability to breath out of one nostril. Got up, did my business to remedy the last to problems and then laid back down.

No sleep. I played on my Nintendo DS, I snuggled down deep, but no sleep.

Then Hazel woke up at 5:30. Hurray. And we've been up since. I'm quickly winding down, but I know that if I lay down now, I'll just lay awake. So I sit, 1/2 alive, blogging and knitting.

Hazel's got a new habit that I forgot to tell you about.

She's always been a belly button and nipple rubber when she gets tired. We know she's tired when the bellybutton is rubbed raw.

Lately, however, she's been lifting her shirt high above her boobies and pressing her belly against EVERYTHING. The TV. The Wall. The Door. The Couch. On the Table top. If you can press your belly against something at her height, she does it.

It's a bit freaky to see your 22 month old, shirt up, pressed against the wall. But, ya know, whatever blows her socks off, I suppose!

Attack of AF and the hormone patrol

No, I'm not preggo yet. Not that I'm aware anyway. But maybe next month. Baby #2 is apparently not ready to enter the world yet, as it'll be another few weeks before I get pregnant. Oh, well. Still trying not to be bitter over people who don't even try. Atleast I know I'm able to carry a little one, so I don't have too much room to complain.

It is, however, period week. And I'm feeling the surge of PMS. Grumble grumble grrrrr. I can tell when I get angry for silly things that usually don't upset me. Like this weeek I'm supposed to be organiing a girl's night out for Michelle's birthday. Nothing to do with the fact that no one planned anything for my birthday and it was my 30th and this is Michelle's 33rd. now, the rational human side of my brain is screaming that we love Michelle, she's a great friend and we want to celebrate her birthday. That every birthday is a special birthday and we absolutely should celebrate her b-day with a girl's night out.

The PMS side of me, however, is standing firmly on my feelings, insisting that no one spent the time, energy, or money on my birthday, and it was a big one. The only one I was really really excited to get to. And it came and went with no celebration. The hormones remind me that the likelyhood of anyone ever throwing me a surprise party or a party at all is slim, so why bother with anyone elses.

And although the normal, rational, NICE side of me knows that I should listen to the human side; the hormones are gaining in presence, and they're getting very difficult to fight off.

I hate the hormones. I really do. And although, as a woman, I can recognize that my irrationality stems from the hormones, it is certain death to ANYONE else who acknowledges them. I tell you what. Aunt Flow is a biatch. She's the wickedest of all wicked witches and she's invading full scale whether you invite her and her crew or not. Sigh. And I welcome her every month in the hopes of having more babies...

In other news, we're stranded inside due to crummy weather. It's raining and gross out (yes, sometimes it's rainy and not gross), making our house chilly. Hazel's bundled up in long sleeves, flannel pants and socks, and it makes me laugh as everyone at home is sweating their behinds off. I kind of miss that, though. Don't know what Hazel will do in warm weather. The thought of moving her from 70 degrees at hottest to Georgia where it's quite a bit warmer amuses me as she won't know what to do with herself in such warm weather!

Well, lunch is over, and she's getting sleepy (rubbing eyes and yawning are dead give aways). Should head and get my girl to bed! Hopefully I'll get a bit of a nap and scare the hormones away for a while...

That Thing You Do

This past weekend was pretty busy, which is new. Usually weekends spent here are pretty uneventful and boring.

Friday night we left Hazel with my friend Michelle and headed off to Whitehead for a dinner party at one of Brett's co-workers. Hani and Sandra are amazing hosts and Sandra prepared just an incredible meal. Hani is palestinian (sp?) and his wife served an incredible spread of middle eastern inspired dishes, and were delicious. There was good food, good company, good conversation, and the evening flew far too quickly. I headed home around midnight to releave Michelle, and Brett stayed with Matt and Jenn, catching a taxi home but not getting here until 3!! I'm glad they had so much fun, though.

We had a birthday party on Saturday and Sunday was just a big day of relaxing!

Hazel's developing so quickly that I almost can't keep up. She's really talking up a storm. She never grunts anymore when she wants something. When she doesn't know the word for what she wants, she usually says, "This." or "Pity Pease." Otherwise we get bombarded with the same word for whatever is over and over and over and over until we say no hard enough or give it to her. Michelle was laughing at me the other day when I was talking to her daughter, Beth. Beth is in the babbling stage, which I love, and I was babbling right back at her. "No wonder your daughter talks so much. You speak her language." Hmmmm....

The next several weekends are going to be crazy. This weekend we have to finish up moving out of the old apartment, next weekend is our 5th anniversary (yay!!!), the following weekend I have a baby fair that I'm putting a stall of 2nd hand baby clothes in (there are a few of us doing it), then the following weekend I'm supposed to be hosting a Pampered Chef party. That is, if the flipping consultant will actually email me back. I hate telling people about it when I can't get her to commit or respond. Most people are on holiday last week, so I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and if she doesn't get back to me by wednesday then I'm calling it off.

Well, it's sunny and windy outside, so I should finish breakfast so I can go hang clothing outside...hopefully get a few loads done today while we're home.

Hugs and Kisses to all!