Monday, September 12, 2011
In honor of NFTM and the revived blogging activity over there at out brother blog, here is a fine example of how NFTM has penetrated the very fiber of our lives.
Monday, March 14, 2011
I opened one of my aunt Karen's books last night and a piece of paper fell out of it on which she had written -
Friday, March 11, 2011
oh hey, it's a blizzard!
Don't see those around here too much.
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
My nanny's gone christian
So, last fall, I found a neighbor who was interested in "nanny sharing" one day a week. It filled a need for us, of finding childcare for the days when I'm interning, and the family lives just 2 blocks from our house. Any hesitation I had in the beginning had to do with the other family, who seemed nice, but the mom is known as a bit of a whack-0, high-strung, disorganized, mean-to-the-help sort of woman. I know all this because a good friend of mine used to be her nanny.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
protestor outside of clinic to Silk on her way in this morning :" Today could be the day you accept Jesus, blah blah blah...(no response, just heading inside) ...You need a heart transplant, ma'am"
Monday, February 14, 2011
Is it, can it - could it be?
Could this be the end, the end of the bullshit? The end of the waiting? The end of being ignored and blown off by the state med. board of ohio? The end of paying them, hating them, wishing they would all die and fantasizing about driving down to stupid columbus and going completely fucking postal on their asses?
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Updates, Haps, Etc.
Inspired by Silk, here are the recent happenings from Mabel Court.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
se me olvido
thats I forgot in spanish.
Well, here we are - 2011. While I've transitioned pretty seamlessly, not missing a beat when writing the date. etc. it is still kind of strange to stop and think about. That's time for you.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
how about an extensive rant?
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
A new look? Something? Anything?
I feel bad that our blog has not been updated for awhile. Do we need a new look? How can we get blog-a-licious back to where we started from?
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Yes, Finally, Part Three
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Speaking of dreams, mine are out of control. This started when I started re reading SK's Bag of Bones, and I can't figure out if that is the reason or not. I'm thinking not because I am barely into the book and it is not very scary, though it does have that edge to it that most of his stories do. So maybe it is a factor. In a few of my dreams, death is the focus - not mine but people I know, and I guess the post death shock and grief process is more accurately the focus - maybe the book but certainly I have death on the mind, nothing new there. In one totally scary dream, I was chased through a house and into a bathroom where I slammed the door in the chasers face, and I fell back into a bathtub, and realized I had no pants on, and woke up.
I probably should have just kept that to myself, but there it is. In the final dream that I can remember, My front teeth had been knocked out and I was explaining this to Perren. I've heard that teeth dreams indicate money issues on the mind, which would be accurate.
Anyway, not at all what I am here to blog about. Here is some news from the new job : One of our Dr.s who I have not yet met b/c we are there on dif. days, woke up last weekend to approx. 40 protestors outside of his home in Cleve hts. He has 2 kids ages 4 and 6 who looked out the windows and thought there was a parade going on. I don't know how their parents explained it to them, but eventually the older one asked if Dad had done something wrong. Shittiest part of this experience for the doc was that when he called the po' to report the people, the po' responded with "yeah, we know they are there. we can't do anything about it" This has sparked all sorts of conversation and a lot of people seem sure that while there is a law in Cleve hts. against picketing there is an exception - literally a clause - when it comes to abortion. I find this hard to believe, and others were suggesting that the po' wont do anything about a residence being picketed if the picketers are on the sidewalk and tree lawn. EITHER WAY, I am sure that if 40 people gathered to protest something else, ANything else, the po' would have been all over it. This sucks, obviously, and b.c. the doctor was shaken and upset, people at work were concerned about losing him, recognizing that it would be totally reasonable for him to decide that it simply was not worth it, if his family is going to be fucked with like that. He has not indicated any such thing, but was upset as I am sure his wife was, and voiced is concerns about the fact that they walk their oldest to school in the morning. One of the nurses suggested a sprinkler system that soaks the tree lawn as the best way to avoid a repeat. He just couldn't believe that the po' did not give him a heads up to expect all that or to get his kids out of the house. This was part of the 40 days of protesting - pray to end abortion - and becasue we are half way through the 40 days (of nonsense, as my boss calls it) she went out in the middle of the day and purchase ice cream sundae fixings for the entire staff, it was amazing - anything you could think of to go on ice cream and LOTS of it. Ironically enough, I had just sat down with my huge salad for munch when the ice cream bar appeared. People started mocking me when I tried to focus on the salad so I said fuck it after about 5 bites and hooked my self up with the bomb sundae.
In more positive and exciting news from work, the marketing director asked me if I would be willing to be a model for an ad campaign they are getting ready to launch. My face will def. be on literature, possibly a couple of area buses and - if they get enough funding, maybe someday even a billboard. Fucking Fabulous. I can not remember exactly what the text says - something like My abortion, My decision, My story - lets start a conversation, something like that. The idea is not just a pro choice message but to encourage women to stop treating abortion like a super secret horrible deed that you never speak of once it's over. My first reaction when she asked me was that I've never had one, didn't want to be misrepresenting, but she said that is not what the text is saying and also that they were going to hire a model and that would be some random who would not necessarily have had one. So I said OK. I have long thought that this country is SORELY lacking in pro choice bill boards, - I've never even seen one and god knows how many pro life ones are plastered all over Ohio not to mention the South, - gag - so I will be super psyched if it gets to that level. May even finance it myself, I think Dr. J would like that. ANyway I will certainly show you all the final result post photo shoot which should be a riot. I don't know why, but I think it should be.
In other news I am going to buy a treadmill because I need a lot more exercise in my life and that has got to be the way to make it as easy and accessible as humanly possible. I mean, you can not have other people exercise for you, it just doesn't work that way.
I'm off to enjoy the lovely Fall Sunday
Thursday, September 30, 2010
I had a very, very, vivid dream last night. It involved an ex-boyfriend of mine, one who I dated for several periods of time, interspersed with long periods of not seeing or talking to each other. We first met in high school, had our second go around in college, and had our third and fourth (and final) encounters in our 20s.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
My apologies for the format of Part One: for whatever reason I can't fix the spacing of the post, and even though I'm frustrated with it, not enough to figure out how to fix it. Oh well, here's Part Two!
So, after having my WTF revelation, which granted, when you are mere hours away from pushing out your child, seems a little late to be panicking, things went from pretty good (I mean, really, I'd had no contractions, so I was still kind of in denial about what was about to happen) to really bad. And fast.
So, when they gave me my pill of Cytotec, the nurse said, and I quote: "This is only your first dose. You will get a second dose in 6 hours, and 6 hours after that you will start pitocin. You will almost certainly need pitocin, because this pill has never helped anyone go into labor. I'm not even sure why they are giving it to you." Great. So, in my mind, it would be at least noon before I would even begin the actual work of labor, and maybe I could catch some sleep before then? My husband certainly thought this would be the case, and he promptly fell asleep on the little pull out couch next to my hospital bed. Because of the cytotec, I had to be hooked up to a heartrate monitor, so I was restricted to certain positions on the bed, which combined with my anxiety and racing mind, resulted in no sleep for me. Which allowed me to be perfectly certain of the exact time when I experienced the worst fucking pain of my life. At exactly 1:20 a.m., my entire body was wracked with pain, so strong that it caused me to scream and curl up on my side, making the heart monitor go crazy because it lost contact with whatever it was monitoring. Up jumps my husband, in rushes nurse, and casually sauntering in is Leslie, my midwife.
Nurse looks at me as if to say, "Um, I just gave you that f'ing pill 90 minutes ago, nothing should be happening now."
Husband looks at me as if to say, "Was it really necessary to wake me up with that banshee-like scream?"
Midwife looks at me as if to say, "I thought you were prepared for a natural childbirth?"
The next few hours are a complete blur, what I do remember are mere snatches. I remember Leslie rubbing my back and shoulders, telling me to simply breathe through the pain. I remember going into the bathroom, sitting on the floor and putting my head against the metal railing because I was so hot and it was so cold, and thinking to myself, this is undescribable and unbearable and I want to die right now. Part of what made it all so hard was that the contractions came one right after the other with about 30 seconds inbetween. Really. Apparently, cytotec has this effect on women. Making it a poor choice for inducing women who will probaby go into labor on their own if left alone. I do think I would have fallen into that category if given time, but I wasn't and I feel my midwife gave in to the doctor on call in pushing for an intervention...but that's a story for a different post.
Anyway, the contractions were coming, literally, nonstop, with no reprieve, not even enough time for me to breathe inbetween. The nurse looked kind of shocked, like she had never seen this reaction to this drug before, and I think this because she immediately became very nice and sympathetic towards me.
This continued until about 3:45 a.m. at which point the midwife decided to see how much I had dilated and the result -- a mere 3 c.m. Seriously, people, I almost lost my shit and killed my husband right then and there. Why him? Easy target and he was looking at me like, "What is up with all this drama? Didn't she think it would hurt?" As soon as Leslie said "three", I knew the gig was up. If I continued to progress at this slow rate, that would mean at least three more hours of these contractions, and I knew I just couldn't do it. I was already exhausted and pushing wasn't even on the horizon. I cried "epidural" louder than I've ever shouted I word before in my life.
Of course, because we had talked about this before, Leslie looks at me, and says, "No, no, you can do this! You don't need an epidural! You are strong!" and some other bullshit, I don't even remember what. Husband is looking at her like, "What the fuck is your problem, give her some meds or I'm going to" and the nurse, who by this point is my biggest fan and looks like she herself regrets giving me the stupid cytotec, just rubs my back and nods and says, "its okay, honey, its okay...whatever you want to do is okay." Consensus was, someone please do something to get this woman to stop screaming and start breathing. An epidural was thus ordered.
About 30 minutes later, in walks the resident who will administer this life saving drug. Those were a loooooong 30 minutes, my friends, a long 30 minutes. I mostly remember laying on my side, praying for something, anything to happen. So, here walks Ms. Suzy Sunshine to give me some relief. The best words out of her mouth? "I'm going to give you a little extra, because I think I went a little too left instead of dead center." Thank you! I'll take it! Instant, and I mean instant, relief was had. A huge sigh was heaved by all in the room, and probably the next room over too. At this point, everyone assumes I'll be getting some rest, as the room is vacated, lights are dimmed, husband is back asleep. Except...
The epidural gave me the shakes. REALLY BAD. My teeth were chattering. It was bad enough to keep me from sleeping, but of course, much better than the alternative, so nothing to do but lay in bed and let things take their course. Which is right where we'll pick up in Part Three!
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
So much to blog about...turning 31, how life has changed, etc. However, in anticipation of the biggest life changing event I've experienced so far, I decided to write about my son's birth. Not known for my brevity, it turns out I'm going to need several entries to get this all down. So far I've only finished Part One, which you can read below.
Saturday evening I attended my brother's wedding shower. Many of the women there commented on my big belly: "You're still so high!" they exclaimed, and insisted I had at least one week more of pregnancy. I was already a few days past my "due date" and was feeling rather ambivalent about it all; I knew my baby would arrive exactly when he wanted to.
The next day, at about noon, I felt something. I thought my water had broken, and upon further investigation, realized my mucus plug had passed. So, it begins, I thought, and told my husband. As I had no contractions, and knew from my extensive reading on the subject that the passage of the plug could happen anywhere from days to weeks ahead of time, I felt no rush or anxiety. We decided to check out a kite festival taking place, and it was there, three hours later, while walking around Edgewater Park, my water broke! "We better head home", I said to S, and I proceeded to lay in bed in anticipation of some contractions. When none started after a few hours, I called my midwife.
"Hmmm...", she started. "Well, if you haven't had any by 9:00 tonight, then come on in," she said, "and we'll figure out what to do."
Well, by 9:00, I had had only 3 contractions, none of them very strong. I thought to myself, "Wow, is this it? Maybe it will be just like those hippie mama's I read about in Ina Mae's book, where it just flows and flows..." Thankfully, I did not share this thought with my husband. I had planned on trying for a natural labor and delivery. I was terrified at the thought of having a c-section, and didn't want an epidural because I saw it as the gateway to other interventions, which I was against. I also wanted to be able to move around as much as possible during my labor, which an epidural does not allow for. As we drove to the hospital, I was feeling good, like, "I can do this! This isn't so bad! When will it really begin?" I distinctly remember everything about that drive, what we passed, how it was when we arrived at the hospital. It was all so surreal; this was really happening!
Upon arriving at UH, we were escorted to a lobby, since I obviously was not in distress or popping out a baby anytime soon, and as my midwife told me, when we arrived, "Its like a bus just came and dropped off every pregnant woman in labor at once." After about 30 minutes of waiting, we were taken into the triage area, where I was to be examined. This turned out to be the first of what would be several funny encounters with "students". UH is, after all, a teaching hospital, and I expected I'd have a student midwife. However, for my initial exam, my midwife brought in what had to be a first year, possibly even first week of first year, medical student, from some Arabic country, and instruct him to give me a pelvic exam to see how dilated I was. He couldn't even look me in the eye. I got great pleasure out of this, seeing as how I was still feeling fine.
Unfortunately, I was only 1 centimeter dilated. "Well........", said Leslie, my midwife. "Hmm. Um. Well, in general, we like for you to deliver within 24 hours of your water breaking, because of infection possibilities. So, um, I think we're going to have to give you some pitocin, to get you going." Well, after reading nothing but horror stories about pitocin, and the kind of contractions it induces, I was not very happy to hear that. Thankfully, my husband took this moment to step in. He asked, "What about that gel we learned about at our last appointment, the one that will help ripen the cervix. Can't Jessie have that instead?" Leslie considered for a moment, then decided to consult with the physician on call. He agreed with S that the gel may be used, and in fact, why not try the pill version of this gel, which is supposed to be milder, and may help get things going. "Great", I thought, "I just need a little push to get things going" (no pun intended).
I was a little concerned when Leslie brought me my pill of Cytotec (which, as it turns out, is a BAD, BAD DRUG, more on this later!). By this point, I had been moved to a private room, it was about midnight and you know how everything is different at night. I sat there, staring at the baby warming table, and all of a sudden, it hit me: I was about to have a baby. Somehow, sometime soon, I would be giving birth to my son.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
I. Am. Not. Ready.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Just so we're clear: I stole this idea
Top Ten, Summer 2010 Redux Edition
Friday, August 13, 2010
Blogging while Baby Watching
Baby K is currently enjoying himself by emptying out every drawer and cabinet in our kitchen, thus providing me with some uninterrupted blogging time. Hard to believe that one year ago tomorrow, my in-laws got off the plane and invaded our home; Baby K was one month from arriving, we were enjoying a beautiful and relatively humidity-free summer, and I was blissfully unaware of the ugly side of infancy.
Monday, August 09, 2010
Since silk has taken up the slack the past few weeks, and baby k is napping, i thought i'd try to share some happenings and whatnot. however, i just realized it is in fact MONDAY, despite what i typed into the title box. oh well, it will probably be tuesday before i finish this and post it.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
It's Tuesday again
and I really feel we need to move these old posts on down the line, however I don't have a formed full post to share, so, some tidbits:
I observed an abortion today, as is required for my new job. It was a much quicker procedure than I realized, which is a good thing all around. I was told before hand that the most difficult part for an observer like myself is usually seeing the woman in pain or discomfort, which I would say was accurate.
I got totally lost on the east side this morning, it was fucked up, I hate map quest because they are such LIARS, and while the maps application on my phone helped and ultimately got me there, I kind of hate them too because I don't know at any given/time place which was is north, south, east or west. Assholes.
I have not been feeling very well - frankly, J.ho since the Texas BBQ, however I do not blame the BBQ, I seem to have some combo of a cold and a stomach bug - sweet. Hopefully done with that. As a result, I spent the ENTIRE day yesterday watching TV, which I have not done for ages and ages. I'm on a big without a trace kick, as I have never watched that show and can now DVR all the reruns, which is like 3 reruns a day.
P - diddy is presently at an 8 hour training on addressing racism through musical theater or something like that, which I can not even imagine what is going down with that. Would like to be a fly on the wall, tho. Probably fairly entertaining, especially since he is there along with every single employee of the theater.
Not much exciting, as you can see. Post something, J ho - you have Kai! Let's see some photos, or hear the latest on his tiger roar or perhaps his bowel movements.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Advice from a Tuesday
If you are at a point in your life where you may be considering things such as primal scream therapy, electroconvulsive therapy, going on a USPS style rampage or kicking someone's ass at random because you are just a -ragin' away at the stressors that abound, might I suggest an hour of cranial sacral therapy.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
today could have royally sucked. For some asinine reason I thought that it would be a-ok to have it be my first day back to work after 10 days off (though I did need to you know, start generating a modest income again at some point sooner than later). I've been a little distracted, so did not give a lot of thought to today before it was here. I was a little worried, then, to find myself sad, being at a place that reminds me so much of my mom and aunt karen since they both spent so much time there. However, I made it through unscathed, no worse or sadder for ware. I worked on my clients, ate my dinner, chose the food for Karen's memorial service, got a nice card in my mailbox form someone I barely even know.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Thursday was a hard day, emotionally. I came home, put the baby who screamed (for 45 minutes the entire way home, through his bath and pj's, and for a good 10 minutes in his crib) to bed, and went to my own bed. No dinner, because my husband decided to work late, and he had planned on cooking. He came home a little later, ready to be pissy at my poor attitude re: dinner, but successfully redirected his feelings once he heard about our day.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Random May Musings
Unfortunately, there really has not been much to blog about, here at the blogalicious. Sure, there have been some funny random encounters w/ Toddling Bruce (including one where I walked up with the baby and he whipped out a camping chair from his trunk and encouraged us to sit and visit on his 'plot' of land).
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Guess Whose Coming To Spend The Weekend...a.k.a. Under Pressure
On Monday, Taj had a surprise for me. He was very excited about it. "I have something to tell you," he teased over the phone, "and you'll have to wait until I get home to find out what!" Well, I could guess what it wouldn't be: the chance to sleep in, just once, in the next 5 months or so; a beach vacation in the next 3 months or so; a limitless supply of ice cream that wouldn't make me fat, etc. I digress. And I must admit, I wasn't too excited about it, because I had the sneaking suspicion it involved a houseguest. I do not live in a house that avails itself to guests. I also do not maintain a standard of cleanliness or neatness that makes me feel comfortable having guests (especially when those guests come from a different country where servants are the norm for a particular socio-economic group. but now, i'm giving too much away). Anyway, the biggest reason I don't really care for guests at this point is because my beautiful baby gets up very early and requires attention and so forth, and I do not like or have the energy or desire to do anything other than tend to his needs and stay in my pajamas until at least 10:00 a.m. Its the best I can do knowing that I won't get to sleep past 6:30 a.m. until at least September 14, 2010. But whose counting?
On with my story. Husband comes home and shares his surprise: a visitor from India who happens to be a very good friend of husband from high school, they have remained close ever since. This friend is very kind, nice, polite, and fun. He is interesting, he has a lovely wife and a sweet daughter. He is also a millionaire who lives in a mansion outside of Hyderabad and has more servants than I have immediate family. The few times I've visited his house I've been in awe. It literally sparkles. And shines. And glows. And, of course, is immaculate.
I'm sure you see where I'm going with this. My anxiety kicks into high gear. First of all, H's wife probably doesn't even own sweat pants, much less lounges in them late into the morning. Not to mention, our house is (to put it mildly and nicely) cluttered. And dusty. And our guest bedroom is in our basement. With more clutter. And the washer and dryer. I could go on.
What to do? Well, I've made some attempts at cleaning and organizing, but really there is only so much space to work with. And knowing my husband, he'll go into a fury of his own tonight, shoving stuff into closets and drawers, to give the appearance of neatness. And he'll have an attitude about it, which he normally does not. So on to the real point of my post today. The real reason I have anxiety about H's visit (and one of the reason's I dread the visits of my in-laws) is because I feel that when these people come, I have to somehow prove myself to them, that I am a good enough wife for my husband (who is adored by all of these people). That even though I'm not Indian, I am acceptable, and even though we were not matched together through some archane parental-controlled scheme, we are a good pair, we have a good marriage, and I am a good wife. Never mind that my husband picked me! Never mind that he is very happy in our life together! (Really, he is. He tells me. Repeatedly. There is a reason, he says, that he lives here and not there. There are many reasons, actually.) Nonetheless, I feel threatened by the perceived judgement from these people (and not so perceived. There is also the judgement expressed by his family. For example, his father told me that everyone in India thinks I am wonderful; in so many ways I am just like a good Indian wife (I'm paraphrasing here, obviously) with one exception--I don't speak their language. If I only made an effort to speak telugu, I would be perfect. I was 9 months pregnant when he told me this. In August. When they had moved in for 2 months. Uninvited. Again, I digress).
I feel the need to convince everyone in my husband's Indian world that I am not just a good wife, or mother, or person, but the right person, the best wife, the best person. And why? Its exhausting. And probably unnecessary.
As far as his friends are concerned, that is my husband's burden. This is his house too, and if he is concerned with their judgement, well, he probably isn't. Because he wouldn't be friends with them if he did. And, this is how we live. There are no servants in America. There are cleaning people, but they cost money, and they come once every 6-8 weeks. That's how it goes. At least for us.
Regarding his family, well, I have a feeling that no matter what I do or try, it really never will be enough, because no matter who their son married, or how they met, or how they live, none of it can overcome the stereotype they choose to accept for in-law relationships. And they have decided to buy into the typical relationship portrayed in every bollywood film, that the parents-in-law and the daughter-in-law will never get along and will never really have a good relationship, because it just isn't possible. Plus, the son always sides with his wife (if only they knew!! I mean, they did come live in my house for 2 months at a very inconvienent time. not my preference, for sure.), and because they believe this dynamic to be the rule, I can never win.
On that note, there is (as always) more to say. But I have to go kiss my baby and take him for a walk, and finish puttering around the house as we wait for the arrival of H.
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I had a thought @ some point over the weekend to compile a post of a few of the best stories/memories I have involving me and getting really high. Inappropriate? Let me know. This is stemming from reminiscence of the day that my ride to school had with her a quarter ounce of high quality green stuff, which she decided we should eat (all of it) before we entered school that morning. (one of the)Best day(s) of my SJA career.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sitting in yoga class last night, for the first time in more than a month, I let my mind wander (it is sooooooo hard for me to pay attention during yoga class), through many topics and places... the class was small, perhaps because of the concurrent cavs game? I always like it when the classes are smaller. I get annoyed when there are more than 3 or 4 other people there. Last night, there were 7 of us, and the sun moved in to the room beautifully as it began to set, highlighting the one empty spot in the middle, and I couldn't help but think of Aunt Karen, who usually also attends this class, but who was also absent yesterday. It was a sad and beautiful moment, all in one.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Keep 'em coming
Strong work, Silk, on the gypsy blog post. Yes, the spinning is at Fit. Let's do it.
Friday, April 16, 2010
New posts - double down!
I am at Gypsy with latte and internet, and it is a rainy day to boot. Excellent. I truly respect how Moms go to battle (passively or aggressively) like no other. It certainly makes sense, maternal instinct and all. I have a theory about the McMahon sisters as new Moms : perhaps they were lucky or perhaps the universe provided because there is no way in hell either of them would be up all night with a baby with any sort of regularity. They just wouldn't, which relates to my other point that I think their husbands did an awful lot in those early weeks, more so than most, because they had to. I digress.