This Is Hard...

I mainly use social media as an outlet for my sense-of-humor.  Unlike most, I do want to see pictures of your children and spectacular vacations.  I do not want to see that you are a bigot.  Controversy, and the very thought of being attacked for my point-of-view, terrifies me.  I do not want to offend anyone regardless of the fact many offend me (and poor Marcus gets to hear all about it when he comes home).  For me, social media is not the time or place for arguments and such anonymous, typed-out, meme-producing vitriol takes away from the oftentimes very serious subject matter.  Sadly, that subject matter is even more oftentimes about the senseless loss of life.

I cannot explain why the 49 people who lost their lives at a nightclub in Orlando has affected me so deeply, especially given the number of daily terrorist attacks worldwide.  When the Paris attacks happened I was saddened and wanted to write but didn't.  When the San Bernardino shootings occurred I wanted to speak-out but didn't.  I remember watching social media and was astounded at the divisiveness events such as those created.  I wanted it to be known that I am a woman, liberal, gun-owning, tax-paying, college educated, mother, anti-feminist, hard-working, bra-burning, welfare/social services proponent, breast feeding advocate, Christian, believer of Evolution Theory, I-don't-care-who-uses-the-restroom-stall-next-to-me, Climate Change activist, and lover of ALL peoples (despite differences) but I was too scared to say it.

I have quite a few family and friends who are part of the LGBQT community and maybe that is why the Orlando shootings have hurt so deeply.  No matter your sexuality, the weekend is a time for rest and relaxation.  At one point for me, that meant bars and nightclubs.  Personally, I enjoyed the gay bars the most because that was where I could go and dance and not be harassed.  I also secretly relished the glowing admiration of my shoes or nails by the regular patrons.  It was also a sign of a potential significant other's character if he could go to a gay bar and not feel uncomfortable.

I've been reading some of the thoughts my more tolerant social media friends have had to say on the subject of the Orlando murders and one thing has occurred to me:  To not voice an opinion is to validate the hatred.  To not voice an opinion is to sit back and indirectly teach my children that hatred is tolerable.  I cannot stand for it any longer.

So, here is where I do stand, and here is where you can take issue:  I do not care if you are a law-abiding gun-owner because I am one as well (and a liberal to boot, imagine that?!).  I do not care if you are afraid of your right to the Second Amendment being taken away because it never will be.  I do not care if you find homosexuality to be a sin because "...love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love..." (Lin-Manuel Miranda, 2016).  I do not care if you believe all Muslims are evil because they are not.

I do care about stopping these atrocities and getting guns out of the hands of those who want to kill me or anyone I love.  I do care that with inactivity this will directly affect me one day and I will lose a loved one.  I do care that my FUCKING (sorry, mamma bear coming out) FOUR YEAR OLD participates in ACTIVE SHOOTER drills at her school.  I do care that your supposed Christian beliefs hold you to certain truths but not to all.  Finally, I do care that I am raising children who may one day be the difference.  I pray that they find their passion and become genuine, kind, and compassionate unlike so many.

Curses (Rated R, Possibly NC-17 For Language)

Does anyone realize how God damn fucking hard it is not to fucking curse around kids?  Really fucking hard.  On the bright side I have been able to stop dropping the f-bomb like a mother fucking boss and now tend to say "frick" which makes me feel like the blonde chick from Scrubs.  Shit has successfully turned into "sugar" though the force with which I say it should constitute it as a curse word.  I was never really one to use the word bitch or ass so those have all but disappeared from my lexicon.  Unfortunately, however, I have picked up using some other, less desirable words like "dumb-dumb" which escapes my lips frequently.  It's not necessarily a bad word but it is mean.  I even used it with Josephine one day when she was about to launch herself off a two foot high ledge.  I did feel bad the second I said it.  Other highly frowned upon terms such as the highly despised God damn and Jesus Christ are new language developments for me and, unfortunately, frequently used in the presence of the girls though usually when they're doing something idiotic like an alligator death role as I'm smearing diaper rash cream on their ass butt.  But God damnit, does anyone know what it's like to have white diaper rash cream get everywhere because your kid is acting like a fucking dumb-dumb?  It's a fucking son-of-a-bitch to clean it up and the rest of the day is spent smelling like a medicine cabinet.  Oh, well.  Some people are absolute saints when it comes to this shit but not me.  It's too God damn hard.

Mini Rant

I have a girlfriend who is going through the woes of early infancy.  Of course I mean she has a brand new baby, not that she herself is an infant....just to clarify.  Anyway, the baby sounds a lot like Alex in that they both share(d) a fondness for keeping their parents up for hours during the middle of the night for no apparent reason.  So, as many frustrated mother's are known to do, my girlfriend took to Facebook to vent her frustration thus the reason for my frustration.  Although I should specify it is not frustration with my girlfriend but with one asinine comment she received in reply.  The comment basically stated to love every minute of that hours long sleep deprivation in the middle of the night because one day you'll look back fondly and miss it.

Sorry, girlfriend, you won't.  What you will look back on in wonder is how you made it through without murdering anybody.  You'll look back in amazement at how you felt you could run away and never look back only to come out of it relatively unscathed.  You'll be absolutely perplexed how you didn't drink yourself into oblivion or self-medicate to get through it.  To the people who respond with such ridiculousness you must be (or had been) pretty well medicated to think that the first three months of nighttime torture, aka the newborn stage, are anything but.  To tell a new parent such is equally ridiculous and they probably know you're lying anyway so why not just give a friendly pat-on-the-back and move on.

Arts And Crafts Are Dumb

Let me just preface this by saying I am not a crafty person.  I try to be but the fact is I don't have extra googly eyes, pipe cleaners, or batting lying around the house all of which appear to be prerequisites before starting any arts and crafts project.  So, when I do feel like an arts and crafts project is in order for the day it takes a lot of energy out of me because I have to improvise with what I have.  Plus, like I said before, I am not a crafty person.  I feel like the World's Best Mother just on the days that I break out the crayons so actually executing a real, honest to goodness project is the frickin' Nobel Prize for Mothers in my world.

Another hindrance to arts and crafts projects are the children for which said arts and crafts projects are designed for.  Particularly my children.  Take today for instance.  I found online a cute design for a turkey using the hands and feet of the girls (not their literal hands and feet though at this point I'd say as long as they're participating who cares).  So, I take Jo first and trace her foot.  For a 1 year old she did remarkably well.  Then it's Alex's turn.  She refuses, I mean absolutely refuses to the point of tears, to let me trace her f****ing foot.  What the f***.  I don't know if she thought I was going to stab her foot with the pencil or if she thought her foot would fall off...I really don't know what was going on in her mind but, as per usual, I lost my sh*t and am now sitting here writing this post.

In my attempt to make the girl's day just a little more fun than average I have been thwarted and turned what was a pretty good day into a slightly sucky one.  So, here I am, stewing over the whole thing and finishing the project by myself.  If Alex and Jo ever say that their mom never did any fun arts and crafts projects with them I'll refer them to this post.

Let's just call it like it is.  This is MY stupid arts and crafts project.

Airing of Greivances

1. Windows 8.  What the fuckity fuck?
2. Any news reports, be they written or oral, that include Facebook comments as part of the "news."  First of all, talk about lazy reporting.  Secondly, I don't care what anyone's opinion of anything is.  Just give me the news.
3. Traveling from NC to VA and back again.  I hate NC.
4. Whenever technology doesn't work to the best of it's ability.
5. Since when has Easter become a second Christmas?  Why are people giving their children giant gifts at Easter?  It's bizarre and indicative of how materialistic our culture is.
6.  Not having batteries in the house and every single remote dying at the same time.
7. Having to watch reality TV on one of the twelve cable channels we get because of the aforementioned situation.
8. Feeling like I've lost control of everything.

Violated? I Think Not.

I remember shortly after Alexandra was born having a conversation with my girlfriend about the lactation consultants at the hospital.  "Didn't you feel so violated when they came in, grabbed your boob, and shoved it in the baby's mouth?!" she asked.  "Seriously?" I said, "I had a male nurse squirting warm water on my vagina not but 6 hours earlier.  A woman grabbing my breast was the last thing I cared about by that point in time."

Women Are Dumb

As you may or may not be aware I am a glutton for punishment.  I also like to make fun of stupid people.  As such, I occasionally peruse a chat forum designated especially for women who are either trying to get pregnant, are pregnant, or just like to talk about those things.  For the most part I think they're all ridiculous and write about ridiculous things that could easily be addressed if they'd just pick-up the phone and talk to their health care practitioner.  But, then again, if they did that I wouldn't have such great fodder for my blog posts.  Also, I suppose it's a sign of the times.  We can find all of the answers we need/want to hear by simply posing a question to a group of strangers who have no authority on the topic at hand.  I digress.

The most recent "WTF" moment came yesterday when a woman asked who else was regularly checking their own cervix.  What.  The.  F***ity.  F***?!  WHO regularly checks their own cervix and most importantly WHY?  I cannot overemphasize enough the WHY.  Why are they checking their own cervix and for the love of Pete how do they even know what they're feeling for?  That's why people go to medical school and trust me, these women are nowhere near medical school learning.  The responses she received were equally WTF as women gave helpful hints on how to squat and...I can't.  I won't even make you re-live the whole thread because I care.  Just know that it was beyond weird and we'll leave it at that.

This whole thing icks me out to no end.  I do not understand women and I am one but I'll be damned if I'm sticking my fingers up where they don't belong.  That's what I'm paying an OB-GYN to do, to tell me what's going on in there because well, he should know.  So, until next time remember folks:  That pregnant woman you shook hands with may have just checked her own cervix.