tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31895313651815839072024-02-06T21:11:10.704-08:00Imperfect PerfectionThis is the life and ponderings of Scarlett.thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-17208485196184454642017-11-10T19:02:00.006-08:002017-11-10T19:02:58.609-08:00A Well-Lived Life<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">What is a well-lived life? </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">My view of a well-lived life is centered
on relationships. I feel like me doing good for others and making a difference
in others lives is how I could measure my success. I want my loved ones to
succeed, and I want to support them as best as they can to help them in their
success. I feel like if I facilitated happiness in others then my life is a
success. On a personal level, I feel like I need to gain education and
knowledge and the pursuit of experiences. I want to travel, I want to be a
life-long learner and I want to improve my life through experiences and others
lives through my help and presence. I honestly do not know what I would like to
do with regards to career, I have far too many interests, I think, to chose one
and stick with it for life. I feel like I will probably have several careers
with side jobs/passion projects. I think that I cannot be fulfilled entirely by
a career, but I feel like my chosen vocation can fill an intellectual or usefulness
hole for a time. As for money, I want enough to do the things I love with the
people I love. I want enough to cover my home, my bills, and my experiences. I
will be happy is I have just enough to cover all of these things, but if/when I
have to sacrifice in any of the necessary or preferred areas then my whole life
is skewed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I think my core values are kindness, helping
others, and understanding people as they are. I feel it is important to attempt
to know people in their own context, and to help them when you can. I do not
think any specific religious group has the 100% truth, or the key to these
values. I actually think all religions are valid in some way and I appreciate
and enjoy learning about them. I just love to learn and love to experience
other cultures, I seek experiences that teach me new things and let me
experience something out of the “ordinary” American life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">My priorities at this point are to
complete my education (but I know myself well enough to realize that I probably
will never feel satisfied with my level of education and will either pursue
higher degrees, multiple degrees or continuously take courses as long as I
live), my family and my friends. I desperately crave adventure and to travel,
but this is not possible at present and therefore it is not a top priority, yet
at the same time I feel such a hole in my life because I am missing this facet.
I cannot feel completely fulfilled without all of my core needs being met
(love, acceptance, experiences, helping others and learning), and as of late
they are stifled in some ways. I plan to have a good enough career that
fulfills me in the mean time so that I can maintain equilibrium in
responsibilities and passions. I know that the higher degree I obtain the more
money I am likely to make, and I also love learning and would happily continue
to gain degrees. Of course, I would love to have excess money and be able to
share my wealth, or else to donate to people with less than I have. Money is
not the goal, but what I can do with it is most important. I am focusing on
getting the money so that all of my other goals can fall into place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-25141893139146006742016-03-10T09:55:00.000-08:002016-03-10T09:55:39.743-08:00Being a Social Justice Warrior Means Losing More Than a Few Friends<div class="MsoNormal">
In order to be myself, I advocate for social justice all the
time, this loses me friends like you would not believe. I have an incredibly difficult
time with making new friends, and even keeping the ones I have because I am found
to be offensive, when that is never EVER my intention. So let me get this
straight: me being in favor of equality is seen as in bad taste? My support for
all lives having value is too politically correct? My being in a field where I
get to research facts about social injustice and the reality of poverty,
racism, multiculturalism and misogyny (among countless others under the
umbrella of social justice) does not make my stating thoroughly studied facts
at all correct? I am doomed to be told I do not know what I am talking about
politically, socially, multicultural, or racially. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cannot possibly argue facts when no one will listen with
an open mind and open heart. If you truly know me at all you know I hate
inequality and I have a streak where I will try to use my arsenal of knowledge in
a kind and gentle way to reveal the facts where I feel it is needed. Even
though I do this as a defense for those who cannot advocate for themselves, I
know that I am seen as trying to be bombastic and combative. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some of my values are as follows: <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am a realistic optimist who wants to help those in need,
no questions asked. I support raising the minimum wage because many of our
society’s problems stem from poverty. I feel that if no one had to worry about
working three jobs to make ends meet the world could improve drastically. I do
not mind the lazy hangers-on who would benefit, as long as those who need it
get the help. I feel it is my responsibility to humanity to help where and how
I can without being greedy. I believe that my giving in taxes to support free
healthcare, childcare, etc. benefits all of society over time. I cannot see how
this is a bad thing, to give my money to those in need is seen as a sacrifice
worth making, but the second it is mandated, even if it is the same amount you
would have offered otherwise, that is somehow wrong to help others. I know
there are others who would feel that their hard-earned money should not go to
someone else at all, and would never give it willingly, and never give it
without begrudging if it were mandated. I feel that it would be a forced
humbling of society to see how much our money all pooled together can help
those in need. Canada is right now toying with the idea of free money for
everyone, a living standard boost. It has worked in other countries, and if
America were to propose this, it would immediately be dismissed because of the innate
American greed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What is America’s core value? Money. We act as if this
stupid paper stuff is more important that people! We waste our health on
working ourselves to death to “keep up with the Jones’”. Americans work more
and vacation less than practically any other developed country in the world! We
glorify being busy, and to take time off is to be “lazy”. It is most certainly
NOT lazy to take care of yourself, and many people need more to recharge than
others. Not only that, but why judge others by your standard? “Oh, if I work a
60+ hour work week, those lazy bums can too!”, but this begs the question: “Why
would you and why should they?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This goes along with the need for paid family leave. It
should be a right and a necessity to help families adjust to the inevitable
changes a child coming into their home can make. America is the <i>only</i> civilized country without mandated
paid family leave. Bonds will grow stronger between parents and child,
productivity is boosted by the parents not having to worry about money or
losing their job for taking time to care for a new child. It makes all the
sense, and yet it comes down to the “bottom line” which always entails how much
money can be made rather than who it helps. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite the vast amount of researched evidence of systemic oppression
against several minority groups such as women and lower socioeconomic status
peoples, I know several people who refuse to acknowledge an issue, to the point
that they argue that <i>I</i> am being a
racist or anti-men. There is a thing called the “pink tax” were the exact same
item marketed toward women is higher in price than one marketed toward a man. Then
there is the issue that being a woman makes our products a “luxury”. Feminine products
are taxed as luxury items! A period is no luxury by any stretch of the
imagination, my friends. This is a core point in the systemic oppression of women.
Poor kids have, on average, lower grades because of less parental involvement.
This is a fact because the parents of the poverty stricken children have to
work all the time to make it, not because of not caring about their children as
so often they are stereotyped as. And those one welfare by and large do work at
least part time! The propaganda to the opposite I never see in print except
when being spouted by a friend who disagrees with me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Racism is not dead and gone, in my classes we talk all the
time about how when someone states “I don’t see color” they are lying to
themselves. Because the fact of the matter is that as a human being, we do see
differences, and if we can evolve ourselves to be loving and accepting of
differences, that is the goal. The fact is, many people deny their baser
thoughts, and that not only is inauthentic, it is damaging. It is damaging in
that ignoring a problem almost always makes it bigger. Everyone has a privilege,
be that you are straight, you are white, you are Christian in a nation full of
other Christians. We are also intersectional, which means that we have
overlapping privileges and overlapping disadvantages. A black gay woman has
more obstacles to face in society than a white straight man. It is that simple
and yet it is somehow offensive to state this as a fact. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Considering I am working towards a master’s degree that
discusses all of these things as facets we need to take into account when
counseling our future clients, you would think I would be heard instead of shut
down at every turn. I would hope that my education would help bolster my level
of expertise somewhat. I could surely argue that my status as a woman is a contributing
factor as to why I am constantly told I am wrong. It is a condition known among
my fellow feminists as “man-splaining”. It is when men tell you what you really
mean even when you are more knowledgeable in the area you were speaking. No only this, by societally women are stereotyped
as submissive and less educated then men, this leads to underestimating women.
Men and women both underestimate a woman’s knowledge, it is how we are raised:
girls like dolls and clothes, boys like science and getting dirty. Those are by
no means factual, each gender is equal in mental capacity and there will be men
and women who are smarter than one another in a given field. Stop dismissing my
knowledge because of my gender! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Each gender had similar capacities outside of strictly
building muscle (men win that by virtue of biology), women can be a brilliant
scientist or mathematician, men can design beautiful things, they are not, and
never should be considered, mutually exclusive. Also, it should be considered
perfectly fine to have traditionally “conflicting” traits, such as a female
body builder who likes to bake, or a working father who enjoys children.
Hopefully in the future we can learn to embrace our duality without judgment
and critique. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
But we are all also much more than a mere label, more than a
stereotype. As human beings who are able to transcend these labels, we should
strive not to be blind to differences, but to embrace them as the spice of life!
Ignoring differences does not help anyone, acknowledging them and accepting
them can. I hope I shed some light on a few subjects close to my heart, but I
know there will be someone who vehemently disagrees. Bring on the debate, but
make sure you have got credible sources (not mass market media, which has been
proven to be skewed to the left or the right with the highest bidder, academic
or independent media would be a better source). <o:p></o:p></div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-76089066711461961442015-09-30T11:17:00.001-07:002015-09-30T11:19:10.916-07:00Loneliness: My Constant Companion<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ever since I was a tiny child
I have yearned for a playmate (back then it took the form of wanting a twin,
then it was desiring a boyfriend as soon as I knew boys existed). Then as I
grew up the term "best friend" entered the equation. I remember that
in every year of school I had one or two very close friends (starting in second
grade an onward), but I was an extremely social child. This was due in major
part because school forced us together and I had many extracurricular after
school as well. And I had my very social mother who would introduce me to new
playmates or adopt new mommy friends who had daughters my age. I don't remember
being lonely as a child because I was in <i>constant</i>
(and I do mean constant) contact with a friend. I recall coming home directly
after school and calling preferred friend #1 and asking to go over, or them
come to my house. If they couldn't play, I then proceeded down my list of
friends until someone could. It was rare that I ever had no one to play with. I
still prayed excessively for a little sister, and finally got one at age 7.5...
and that age gap was too great to play with her (until very recently, because
as adults age matters less).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I <i>want </i>to have a nerd herd so desperately (perhaps my desperation is
the problem?), but it feels like such an impossible task. I see the articles
about people who have at least one close friend live longer, and those without
die younger. I see how important a support system is and it is an oppressive cloud
hanging over my head. How does one go about looking for like-minded people? I
cannot find who I’m looking for, and those I have found have left by and large.
I feel abandoned (even though I know not one of them did it on purpose), it is
my curse to find a friend, become close and then watch them depart to bigger
and better things. I have even begun mentioning to my new friends my curse, and
they then reassure me that they’re not going anywhere in the foreseeable future…
and less than a year later they are gone. This is not only military members
(who have taken two of my close friends far, far away), but regular teaching
positions or other job opportunities elsewhere. It definitely is my anathema. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The very worst part is that I have
found the ultimate friends, the ones where we “click” and are great matches…
that hurts all the more when I’m alone, and makes me devalue friendships who I
see more as “placeholders” until the “worthier” friendships come along. When
you’ve had a taste of perfection, it is hard to be as satisfied with less. That
makes me sound like a completely awful individual, but there it is. That is me.
I’m a perfectionist in everything, friendships included. It is not a lack of
people who like me, it is a lack of people I truly like and who click with me
on that once thought unattainable level. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have decided this is
something I will be tormented with until I move away from here. There are zero
opportunities here, for me or for my friends. We are bound for superior places!
I just wish that they were all in the SAME superior place. I want to be able to
see my friends frequently, like once a week! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It struck me in my counseling
class, when we were counseling each other and we were to use a real issue, that
I have been so utterly lonely. I guess looking back that I could not stand the
loneliness. I do like to be alone and can find great enjoyment singularly, but
it does not compare to the perpetual playmates I had as a child. I’ve grown
accustomed to using several things to help me when I’m lonely, I turn to all
sorts of distractions ranging from healthy: reading, videogames, internet
articles; to more unhealthy: borderline obsessive Facebook stalking, eating too
much, etc. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I think the major loneliness
survival tool has been eating. I do not eat anything at all when severely
depressed, but I overeat when I’m anxious or lonely… which I feel incessantly. At least now that I have noticed this behavior
I can ask myself if I am truly hungry or if it is something else. I always have
heard of emotional eating, and that term didn’t fit me because I eat less when
I’m happy (but I also share happiness, I like to go out and do things when I’m
in a good mood), but</span> <span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">being sad does not change how much I eat, only the
change in presence of others makes me eat more, like when I’m understimulated
and alone. It apparently is something I do when bored and lonely, something
that I enjoy that passes the time (and not all that much time typically, that
is why I over eat, to get more of that happy fulfilled feeling). I think now
that I’m aware I can work on it, and notice the true reason I eat. But I still
need to work on accepting that major friendships will be fleeting or hope I can
take root somewhere someday where like-minded individuals live so I can be in
semi-constant contact with them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-65118535239007583912015-07-29T15:09:00.002-07:002015-07-29T15:12:51.794-07:00Feminism and Men's Issues<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today I stated that I am a feminist who supports men's rights and attending issues in response to a video entitled "Why I am not a Feminist" by Lauren Southern. Of course this being the internet I got attacked by someone who claims that men are not part of the feminist agenda. This coming from someone I do not know, but whom I assume is a) does not claim to be a feminist, and b) is not educated in feminism (due to their responses, and the fact that if you research modern feminism you would be able to easily see that equality is the goal). Of course there are variables on all sides, I cannot speak for every feminist, woman, wife, mother, daugther, etc. I adhere to the definition of "<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 29.25px;">Feminism is about getting rid of oppressive forces [patriarchy] that hold women down and also make men adhere to restrictive norms and ideals."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here were my responses: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"If you only read one of the following articles about feminists supporting men's issues, read this one: <a href="http://brutereason.net/2012/09/20/in-brief-do-feminists-care-about-mens-issues-a-handy-list/" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="link" x-apple-data-detectors="true">http://brutereason.net/2012/09/20/in-brief-do-feminists-care-about-mens-issues-a-handy-list/</a></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It has links to pretty much every topic I saw covered in this video and more. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some issues feminists tackle in the following article: <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Ending sexual and domestic violence, b</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">etter family policies, for men and women, </span></span></div>
<a href="http://now.org/blog/how-feminism-and-now-have-helped-men/" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" x-apple-data-detectors-result="1" x-apple-data-detectors-type="link" x-apple-data-detectors="true"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://now.org/blog/how-feminism-and-now-have-helped-men/</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"F<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">eminism to be an effective means of dismantling the systems that hurt both men and women and for achieving future equality. "</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://feministing.com/2014/04/04/why-im-a-male-feminist-and-not-a-mens-rights-activist/" x-apple-data-detectors-result="2" x-apple-data-detectors-type="link" x-apple-data-detectors="true">http://feministing.com/2014/04/04/why-im-a-male-feminist-and-not-a-mens-rights-activist/</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The idea that suggests that giving all genders an equal chance in life is some how going to lead to the oppression of men is ridiculous. Where on any site did they shut down the male gender? It is a one baby step at a time thing, women have it worse at present, so those organizations are working toward equality in the female side at present. I'd bet you could do some digging into each site you mentioned and find someone who participates in that organization who has written about men's issues. "</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">His response was more or less "Those links are old"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I responded: "The articles I presented are not "old", none of them are older than three years, and even then they don't have an expiration date. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Feminism is merely looking at equality through a female lens, as in my perspective is how the lack of equality effects women and men due to the patriarchy establishment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Feminism fights patriarchy, which is the system that is responsible for the fallacy that women need to be mothers in place of men; a lie that can cost fathers their children and women their lives. It places unreasonable expectations on young men, leaving them ill-equipped for the modern world and leading to an epidemic of mental health issues. It runs the entire country, and those that gain from it would prefer that women don't stand together for their rights because they have so much to lose.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And feminism is pro-men. In discussion of rape and sexual assault, it is feminists who have challenged the myth that men are incited by short skirt, and the belief that the average man can barely stop himself from assaulting a woman." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He continued to say I was wrong, in the fact that the sites did not support that men are included in the feminist agenda, I continued to sling link after link, argument after argument such as:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Here is the link to another article from 2013 (I know, older than dirt) <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/science/the-lay-scientist/2013/jul/16/feminism" x-apple-data-detectors-result="3" x-apple-data-detectors-type="link" x-apple-data-detectors="true">http://www.theguardian.com/science/the-lay-scientist/2013/jul/16/feminism</a> "</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Do you think women are less than men? Do you think they are inherently less intelligent, are only equipped to be barefoot and pregnant? Would you want your daughters, sisters, mother or cousins to be treated this way? If not, then you, my friend, are a feminist."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He responded with going off topic, asking about my opinion about abortion, specifically if he knocked up a girl and she didn't want to keep the baby, and he did. I told him my personal opinion, he seemed to like my answer and became a bit more cordial, yet he still was adamant I was wrong in saying men's issues are feminist issues. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">.. Until I finally said, "There are inclusivist and exclusivist in any branch of belief, my use of the work "any" was a mistake but there IS a feminist branch (modern feminist, such as everydayfeminism.com ) that sees feminism as about equality (gender, race, religion, etc). I overgeneralized, I was not completely aware of the branches (so I thank you for inadvertently urging me to research). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hatred of men, on the other hand, is called misandry, which is not the same as feminism. They may coincide, but feminism doesn't endorse it." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So basically, I spent the day trying to point out the last sentence of my rant, my "opponent" spent the day trying to be "right" by way of pointing out I used the word "any" too generally, which inherently makes my entire argument false. Oh well. I hope at least one person can understand where I was coming from, learn something about feminism and understand that it is for the benefit of all people. Please comment and let me know if you learned something, or if you'd enjoy a rousing debate :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">More links to enjoy:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://itspronouncedmetrosexual.com/2012/12/reasons-people-believe-feminism-hates-men/</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://everydayfeminism.com/2015/05/can-men-be-feminists/</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://mic.com/articles/88277/23-ways-feminism-has-made-the-world-a-better-place-for-men</span></div>
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thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-33174550622760426452015-07-29T11:11:00.000-07:002015-07-29T15:41:12.615-07:00Politics and Popular MythsMy political persuasion leans toward equality for all, and helping humanity. If you can achieve those goals somehow, I'll likely vote your way. Recently I got into a debate on Facebook, as you do, regarding socialism and Bernie Sanders as seen in this <a href="http://www.vox.com/2015/7/28/9014491/bernie-sanders-vox-conversation" target="_blank">VOX</a> interview, and I learned a few things that dispelled myths. It was argued that under the Obama administration cost of living went up, gasoline prices rose, and unemployment was high besides massive tax hikes. Here are the facts I learned:<br />
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<u>Obama fact-check</u>:<br />
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Unemployment Rate -- the unemployment rate when he entered office was 7.8 <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> percent. After his first term in office Is was at 5.5 percent, a decline of 2.3 percentage points since the recession-plagued month of January 2009, when the president first took the oath of office.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Consumer Prices</span><span style="border: 0px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> –</span> Overall inflation in consumer prices has remained moderate over Obama’s first six years, rising by only 11 percent between January 2009 and February, the most recent month for which the Bureau of Labor Statistics has released the <a href="http://data.bls.gov/timeseries/CUSR0000SA0" style="-webkit-transition: 0.2s ease; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; transition: 0.2s ease; vertical-align: baseline;">Consumer Price Index</a>. The average yearly rise under Obama of 1.9 percent is well below the post-World War II average of 3.7 percent. And thanks mainly to falling fuel prices, the CPI has actually dropped 0.8 percent since the last report.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Gasoline</span><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: 600; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> –</span> The national average price of regular gasoline has rebounded somewhat since the plunge that took it down to just over $2 a gallon in January. As of the week ended March 30, it stood at $2.45, according to the <a href="http://www.eia.gov/dnav/pet/hist/LeafHandler.ashx?n=PET&s=EMM_EPMR_PTE_NUS_DPG&f=W" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">U.S. Energy Information Administration</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">That’s 33 percent higher than the unusually low point at which it stood on Inauguration Day 2009, but also 32 percent lower than it had been at the end of March 2014. (In other words, it fluctuates. This fact is obvious if you notice how during peak traveling times such as holidays, gas prices soar).</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">Real Weekly Earnings</span><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;"> –</strong> As a result, the purchasing power of weekly paychecks took another big jump since our last report. The BLS measure of <a data-beacon="{"p":{"mnid":"entry_text","lnid":"citation","mpid":8}}" href="http://data.bls.gov/timeseries/CES0500000012" style="box-sizing: inherit;">average weekly earnings for all workers</a>, adjusted for inflation and seasonal factors, was 3 percent higher in February than it was when Obama first took office. </span>Most of that gain is recent. Real weekly earnings have gone up 2.5 percent since fuel prices started dropping last June.</div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Also in the list found here for all the tax hikes under Obama ( </span>http://www.atr.org/full-list-ACA-tax-hikes-a6996 ) I didn't see any (unless I missed them) imposed on regular working class people. </div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><u>On Socialism and countries in which it has succeeded: </u></span><br />
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<span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Some socialist ideologies really speak to me, such as basic human equality. Also, it should be a right that every person has healthcare and food, I'm not saying people should not work, but what if those who cannot afford medical care so they go without? That, to me, is an injustice. </span></div>
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Some countries who would be regarded as "socialist" would be the following ten: </div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">China</span></li>
<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Denmark: </span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Denmark has a wide range of welfare benefits that they offer their citizens. As a result, they also have the highest taxes in the world (to me, paying taxes to help myself and others is a noble cause). Equality is considered the most important value in Denmark. Small businesses thrive, with over 70 percent of companies having 50 employees or less.</span></div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Finland:</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Finland has one of the world’s best education systems, with no tuition fees and also giving free meals to their students. The literacy rate in Finland is 100 percent (America is at 99%). Finland has one of the highest standards of living in the world. Like Denmark and other European countries, equality is considered one of the most important values in society. </span></div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Netherlands:</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In the Netherlands, government control over the economy remains at a minimum, but a socialist welfare system remains. The lifestyle in the Netherlands is very egalitarian and organized, where even bosses do not discipline or treat their subordinates rudely.</span></div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Canada:</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Like the Netherlands, Canada also has mostly a free market economy, but has a very extensive welfare system that includes free health and medical care. Canada is ranked as one of the best top five countries to live in by the United Nations and the Human Development Index (HDI) rankings.</span></div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sweden</span></li>
<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Norway:</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In Norway, the government controls certain key aspects of the national economy, and they also have one of the best welfare systems in the world, with Norway having one of the highest standards of living in all of Europe. </span></div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Ireland:</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Ireland has arguably one of the best welfare systems in the world. Around 25 percent of Ireland’s GDP goes towards paying for the welfare system, as compared to 15 percent of America’ GDP towards America’s social support programs.</span></div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">New Zealand:</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">New Zealand may not be a socialist country, but the welfare system in the country is very wide ranging, offering support for housing, unemployment, health, child care, and education as well. Therefore, New Zealand has many of the characteristics of a socialist country, even while remaining officially free market.</span></div>
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<li style="list-style: square; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Belgium:</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Lastly, Belgium has most of the same social security benefits that New Zealand offers, including invalid and old age pensions. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Despite popular myths, there is very little connection between economic performance and welfare expenditure. Many of the countries on this list are proof of that, such as Denmark and Finland. Even though both countries are more socialistic than America, the workforce remains stronger.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">These are evidence they a) you can keep a free market and still have programs to help the people b) not be classified as "socialist" in a technical sense and still utilize government support c) proof that small businesses won't cease to exist (if using the Denmark model) d) the workforce in a country will be better off, happier etc with assurance that they can get help (be that unemployment checks, paid maternity leave, paid vacation, general healthcare, medical and prescriptions). It makes the quality of life and satisfaction therein better. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yes, some of those countries have bigger flaws than others, but it is a system that can be useful, can work, and I do not see why people hate the idea of helping their fellow man through taxes. People are obviously not helping everyone who needs it without government intervention! </span></div>
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<a href="http://blog.peerform.com/top-ten-most-socialist-countries-in-the-world/" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="link" x-apple-data-detectors="true">http://blog.peerform.com/top-ten-most-socialist-countries-in-the-world/</a></div>
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http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/7010350</div>
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http://www.factcheck.org/2015/04/obamas-numbers-april-2015-update/</div>
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<a href="http://www.vox.com/2015/7/28/9014491/bernie-sanders-vox-conversation" target="_blank">VOX.com</a></div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-62523754069029296782015-07-23T19:27:00.000-07:002015-07-23T19:33:51.786-07:00The Results Are In!<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Or in other words we got our report on Mairéad's language evaluation! So let me break it down: </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>ROWPVT-4: </b>examines receptive vocabulary. </span><br />
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Standard score 119</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Age 6-8</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Percentile 90</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>EOWPVT-4: </b>examines expressive vocabulary.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Standard score 124</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Age 7</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Percentile 95</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>CELF-5: </b>e</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">xamines the overall language performance </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Standard score 115</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Percentile 84</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<i style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sentence comprehension: </i></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Scaled score-11</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Age-5y7m</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Percentile-63</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Word Structure</i>:</span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Scaled score-12</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Age-6y6m</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Percentile-75</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Formulated Sentences</i>:</span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Scaled score-14</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Age-6y6m</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Percentile-91</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Recalling Sentences</i>:</span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Scaled score-12</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Age-6y6m</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Percentile-63</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Also the report said that Mairéad had NO ERRORS during her language sample (taken from her conversation with the Speech Language Pathologist) not in grammatical, semantic, morphological, or syntactic areas! None! </div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
The SLP was not entirely certain of the relation between the above tests and IQ, but I am going to research it! </div>
<div>
<br />
<img src="webkit-fake-url://a93678bb-a7b5-4dc9-aa00-a5fb91faa8be/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://1efbccbc-616f-4273-af38-6bc1176a44a0/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://791a69d9-0b5d-42f3-af8d-dbb2f4493e07/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://47d31601-5f28-4457-af1e-1e15a90a2f11/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://62c9ca5b-0259-4426-8bd7-ac5d15aaa846/imagejpeg" /><img src="webkit-fake-url://22db1db8-a427-4a53-b649-7f331fffc6a6/imagejpeg" /></div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-1203433847212587642015-06-09T11:33:00.001-07:002015-06-09T11:33:02.858-07:00Microaggressions in Counselling <div class="MsoListParagraph" style="line-height: 200%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">This is a response to a few articles I have read in regards to microaggressions, and I feel that my insight and reading the originals may help someone to understand what an issue microaggressions truly are. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
have heard of microaggressions several times and maybe I am naive but I tend to
believe that they are unconsciously spoken, not intentionally said to demean a
person. At least that is how I have tried to view them when directed at me for
being a woman. It is a perpetual intentional blind spot. People want to think
of themselves as not racist, and not privileged especially in America. We want
to think we earned everything ourselves, that we are tolerant of everyone and
be perceives as such. The fact is that racism is ingrained into American
culture and it is not over. It takes acknowledging that it might just be how
you view people too, however small of a level. I realize that some people do
intend to inflict harm verbally through the use of microaggressions sadly, and
we should not ignore them, we need to educate them if racism is ever to be a
thing of the past.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">When
the article mentioned that “most White Americans are unaware of the advantages
they enjoy in this society and of how their attitudes and actions unintentionally
discriminate against persons of color”<w:sdt citation="t" id="994069969"><!--[if supportFields]><span
style='mso-element:field-begin'></span> CITATION Buc07 \l 1033 <span
style='mso-element:field-separator'></span><![endif]--> (Bucceri, et al., 2007)<!--[if supportFields]><span
style='mso-element:field-end'></span><![endif]--></w:sdt> I couldn’t agree
more. It is very true that it is not seen nor acknowledged that white people as
the “majority” culture in America do not see and refuse to believe we have it
easier. If I had been born another ethnicity and a woman I would be facing even
harder up hill battles in my life to be treated equally. It hurts white
self-perception to actually succumb to the reality that you did not earn much
of the respect and ease at which you travel through your life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
have experienced microaggressions for being a woman frequently. Comments about
how I dress or hints at how I belong at home, not working, etc. I find that
women are looked down upon as a lesser species by many men. Phrases like “Just
let it go,”, “You are overreacting,” or “It’s not a big deal”. Minimalizing my
feelings because I am a woman. As a woman I face unequal wages for no other
reason than my gender when in the same position as a man with the same
credentials.<w:sdt citation="t" id="1247233015"><!--[if supportFields]><span
style='mso-element:field-begin'></span> CITATION Mak13 \l 1033 <span
style='mso-element:field-separator'></span><![endif]--> (Making the Invisible Visible:
Gender Microaggressions, 2013)<!--[if supportFields]><span
style='mso-element:field-end'></span><![endif]--></w:sdt>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Some
examples of what women go through all the time are: “An assertive female
manager is labeled as a "bitch," while her male counterpart is
described as "a forceful leader." (Hidden message: Women should be
passive and allow men to be the decision makers.) A female physician wearing a
stethoscope is mistaken as a nurse. (Hidden message: Women should occupy
nurturing and not decision-making roles. Women are less capable than men). Whistles
or catcalls are heard from men as a woman walks down the street. (Hidden
message: Your body/appearance is for the enjoyment of men. You are a sex
object.)”<w:sdt citation="t" id="598910487"><!--[if supportFields]><span
style='mso-element:field-begin'></span> CITATION Sue10 \l 1033 <span
style='mso-element:field-separator'></span><![endif]--> (Sue, 2010)<!--[if supportFields]><span
style='mso-element:field-end'></span><![endif]--></w:sdt><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
have never been afraid of being a strong smart woman, but knowing I will be
judged for it does serve to worry me. It can make me rethink how I say
something, how I present myself making my requests with more smiles or a
gentler voice so as not to be seen as a threat. It should not have to be that
way. I have been catcalled, but luckily it has never been face-to-face only
with a car driving quickly by. Catcalls and male aggression are terrifying to
me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">My only disagreement is that I
think that it is a combination of people becoming more and more “touchy” over
smaller perceived slights as well as people thinking just that. If you just
push aside others’ perceived insult as insignificant you are part of the
problem. I believe it is both sides, we should endeavor to be less offended
because we cannot know truly what someone means, but we should attempt not to
gloss over how people feel. It is imperative to try to understand others’
feelings and also try not to cause offence because it is the right thing to do.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As a counsellor, as a human being, be
aware you have them, you do them, you say them. Be honest with yourself that
they happen, even by accident and try to change them over time. We may never
abolish them completely because no one is perfect. Try noticing when other
people say these things, recall if you have said something similar in the past
or even just thought it. Being aware is the first step, then preventing saying
or doing anything that can be a microaggression. We can all improve and do
better, and we need to in order to be culturally competent counselors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h1 style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">References<o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: "Calibri Light"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-font-family: "Calibri Light"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr></span></h1>
<div class="MsoBibliography" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if supportFields]><span style='font-size:12.0pt;
line-height:200%;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"'><span
style='mso-element:field-begin'></span><span
style='mso-spacerun:yes'> </span>BIBLIOGRAPHY <span style='mso-element:field-separator'></span></span><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Baruth, L. G., & Manning, M. L. (2012). <i>Multicultural
Counseling and Psychotherapy: A Lifespan Approach</i> (5th ed.). Boston, MA:
Pearson.<o:p></o:p><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr></span></div>
<div class="MsoBibliography" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Bucceri, J. M., Capodilupo, C.
M., Esquilin, M., Holder, A. M., Nadal, K. L., Sue, D. W., & Torino, G.
C. (2007). Racial microaggressions in everyday life: Implications for
clinical practice. <i>American Psychologist</i>(May-June), 271-286.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBibliography" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Making the Invisible
Visible: Gender Microaggressions</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-no-proof: yes;">.
(2013, Fall). Retrieved from University of New Hampshire :
http://www.unh.edu/sites/www.unh.edu/files/departments/affirmative_action_and_equity_office/unh-advance_microaggressions_v3-a.pdf<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBibliography" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Sue, D. W. (2010).
Microaggressions: More than just race . <i>Psychology Today</i>. Retrieved
from https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/microaggressions-in-everyday-life/201011/microaggressions-more-just-race<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<w:sdt docparttype="Bibliographies" docpartunique="t" id="304823820" sdtdocpart="t">
<w:sdt bibliography="t" id="-573587230">
</w:sdt></w:sdt>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-89951977869777661442015-06-02T11:50:00.002-07:002015-06-02T11:50:18.279-07:00Cultural Autobiography<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Cultural Autobiography<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">My
cultural background is mixed, but I am always been quite fascinated by it. I was
told I was English, Irish, Scottish and Welsh as a child, and as an adult I
have questioned that so I have opened an account with Ancestry.com and used
their DNA kit to discover my heritage. I discovered I am in fact Irish, Scottish
& Welsh (32%), Scandinavian (17%) and also my heritage can be traced back
to the western parts of Europe such as France, Germany, Belgium, the
Netherlands (31%), Italy/Greece (7%) as well as eastern Europe like Poland,
Ukraine, Belarus, Romania (6%) (it was not as precise as I would have hoped). All
in all about 97% European, as I assumed and it matched up with the family
history I had uncovered as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
my early childhood I was blessed with the opportunity that my family hosted
several Foreign Exchange Students. Our first student was from Germany when I
was about 4-years-old. Her name was Eva and she was one the swim team at the
high school. I think she is the reason I love to swim as much as I do. I do not
have many memories of her, just that she had a pixie cut and raven black hair
and she was pale as snow and I remember how sweet and kind she was to me, and
she treated me as if I were her little sister, reading me books and always
making time for me. Our next exchange student was Andrea from Slovenia. She was
a buxom blonde who wore a lot of the typical 90’s acid washed jeans and loose-fitting
plaid button-up over a plain white tee. Then there was Peter from Hungary, he
was a bookish young man who wore glasses and liked to sit on our roof. About
this time we had Ekaterina, or as we called her Katya. She was a tall pale
redhead from Russia. She was absolutely stunning, but she was an ice-queen. She
had been very well taken care of in Russia by her family. They spoiled her and
sent her money often. She was not as warm to me as Eva had been and she probably
though I was a pest. I remember her collecting dolls (which I loved and wanted
desperately to play with) and she drew often, many of the times she drew
Vampires, of which she was obsessed. She was a Vampire for Halloween that year.
Looking back she may be a large part of the reason I pursued an artistic life,
why I love fashion and many other things. Lastly there was Julia, a student
from China but I do not believe she lived with us long. I do not remember Andrea,
Peter or Julia living with us long, several of our students changed households
while in America. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">We
were invited by Eva to visit Germany and stay with her family, and of course we
accepted. We went to Germany when I was maybe 5 or 6 and I believe we stayed
there for weeks, but as a child everything seems to last so much longer than it
really does so who knows. We travelled and visited many countries, Morocco,
England, France, Denmark, Belgium, etc. It was a magical experience, and I have
wanted to return ever since. I remember only some events, one such was getting
fully outfitted in equestrian gear, (helmet, riding pants with chaps and
padding, a vest and a turtleneck sweater and riding boots) built in such as
riding a Lipizzaner horse and it rearing with me in the saddle and I remained
calm,. Then I remember Eva’s family remarking how well I had done and insisting
I should stay to learn to ride. They ran an equestrian business of some sort. I
remember eating waffles in Belgium, and buying a garter in France. I recall going
to a market because I was a picky eater and would not try many of the different
foods and I picked out a jar of miniature hotdogs and eggs. I remember peering
into the edge of the Black Forest and how much it looked like a place of
fairytales. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">My
multicultural experience as a child puts me in a minority in America. How many
children get to interact with people intimately from 6 different countries for
a year? How often do children get to experience another country and see the
culture first hand? Few, the rich and the military are the types of families I
can imagine that see what I got to see all before I was 10 years old. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">During
my late childhood, between about 7 and 13 years old, my family met several
Irish families who had emigrated to America. We spent every holiday with them
and they became our extended family and have since heavily influenced my
cultural outlook, my identity and my deep abiding desire to move to the United
Kingdom. I feel all these cultural experiences colored my worldview and
broadened my perspectives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">We
moved to Clovis when I was 13 and I grew to loathe being told what to do, being
asked was one thing I had no problem with, but being “forced” made me dig my
heels in and do the opposite. My rebellious streak was always there, it just
grew as I hit puberty. I am a natural rule follower, but if I feel like people
tell me I cannot do it, I want to sometimes. Assuredly I was in the majority
here, teens all like to rebel on some level. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
was raised in a “liberal” Mormon household, where my mother taught me to think
for myself and never trust that I could depend upon a man. That is a bit
counter-culture in Mormonism, where women are designated to the realm of the
home primarily and told not to work unless it is necessary. I was taught by my
mother to get an education and be able to support myself, and the Latter-Day
Saint Church does encourage everyone, men and women, to get a college degree if
possible, just a woman’s education often is of no practical use. She also had a
more lenient view on the Word of Wisdom (the lifestyle guidelines in the
Latter-Day Saint church), where caffeine is typically a no-no my mom was a
heavy Pepsi drinker, and I became a regular tea drinker. I also was not held
back from having feelings for the opposite sex, whereas the church guidelines
basically forbid dating exclusively until after age 16. Those, in my life,
seemed like small differences but they were hugely different than all the children
I was raised with. My LDS upbringing within Mormon culture would be a minority,
to be an active member and yet not follow all the rules, even more odd is that
we were open about our differences! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I was also raised with the typical “Christian
guilt” that sin brings, and it heavily affected my childhood and my teen years.
I was a very judgmental child and teen, and my mind did not expand until I went
through my own trials. Me sinning as a teen colored my views, I could no longer
judge people who had done what I had done because that would make me a hypocrite.
I struggled with the idea that I had failed God, that my mistakes meant I was
worthless and that I could never recover. I also felt alienated by the members
my age, which did nothing to help me attend church. I felt lost, adrift and
lonely but I still kept my beliefs close even though I felt like I was no
longer worthy to attend church. I prayed often, feeling stupid for asking for
forgiveness for something I knew for a fact I would only do again and again. In
my mind repenting meant that you “go and sin no more”, and it was false of me
to ask to be forgiven when I would continue to sin regularly. To fix this I
more or less bullied my ex-husband into marriage at 18 before we had even graduated,
and that caused a slew of new problems. I was simultaneously in the majority
and the minority with my religious upbringing, in this part of America so many
are Christians who I am sure have faced similar struggles, but my “sect” of
Christianity is small here in Clovis, New Mexico. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
also took courses in high school that permanently broadened my mind, i.e.: psychology
and world religions. After this my thirst for knowledge of different cultures,
religions and how the mind works has set me on the current path I am on. I,
still, cannot seem to get enough knowledge about all things different from me
as well as learning every more about myself. I enjoy taking IQ tests, interest
inventories, quizzes, or reading about things I relate to. It is as if I am
dying of thirst to learn and only knowledge can quench it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
high school I also had my first taste of a yoga class, which I immediately fell
in love with. Throughout college yoga has been another cultural passion of
mine, of which I have seriously considered making a career path. I love the
theology and the history behind yoga and I have become enchanted with India.
All of the cultural exploration I have done in the past few years has
overlapped, I take classes simultaneously that enhance and support one another
so I learn all about the religion of an area while at the same time immersing
myself in the history and culture in another class. This more or less sums up
my undergraduate career.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Young
adulthood for me has been learning to put all of my values into a cohesive
whole. To somehow balance my love of all religions, and how I believe they each
have merits and truths, and still profess Mormonism. How I can balance my huge
feminist streak with my appreciation for gender roles. Contrast is my life, I
have values on many “opposing” things, but I do not believe they have to clash.
I feel like I walk the middle road, and
dabble one each side. This makes me feel like the minority because I feel too
many people are far right or far left with no one finding the middle ground where
I stand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
feel like the minority in that I support so many different beliefs and
lifestyles, but it may just be the part of the world where I currently reside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
can see how each stage of my life was influenced by a different culture, my
youth by Europe (especially Germany), my later childhood by Irish culture and
people, my teens by American society and my rebelling actively and inactively
against my church upbringing, young adulthood has been colored by world history
and religion with a healthy dash of psychology. I enjoy learning how and why
people think as they do, while maintaining my own idea of right and wrong. My opinion
of the right way to do things is fairly broad, basically if it does no harm
(mentally, physically, emotionally, etc) than it should not be a problem. If
something hinders someone else’s life (such as takes away their rights, freedom
or equality) I am against that. My hope is to fight for the underdog, to help
people to realize their worth and power. I feel like the underprivileged deserve
to be heard and helped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
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thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-71382174117606957482015-04-20T11:48:00.000-07:002015-04-24T11:05:22.227-07:00Kindred SpiritsDo you ever see someone and instantly know you will hit it off? That this person and you have this amazing potential to become close friends? This has happened to me a few times, an instantaneous moment when I see someone new that I just have to meet. I find it a really neat thing when not only do I find this person I know I want to learn about but they also want to be my friend as well!<br />
<br />
I have encountered these rare people a few times, and it is so odd how I know we will get along before I have actually spoke to them. People say not to judge a book by its cover, but I am remarkably good at it. I can usually tell if I will like you from my first impression of you, and even more than that, I can ussually tell if we could be great friends.<br />
<br />
One regret I have is no knowing the appropriate way to bridge the gap and make the connection. I worry a lot about making a fool of myself or else construing the wrong message. How do you hide your borderline rabid excitement at meeting someone who is so like you? I have failed to master that as of yet, ha ha! I need to take a class on how to begin a friendship in this modern age so I won't embarrass myself.<br />
<br />
On that subject, why isn't fervent pursuit of friendship desirable? I feel like it would be shunned and looked down upon to show my hand of how deeply I hope for a friend. Maybe it stems from how I see "fangirling" as being viewed. Being overtly immersed in something is seen as obsessive, and therefore my search for an equally devoted friend is a hard sell. It scares people off, or if would if they knew about it. I've become pretty good at hiding my admiration for my friends, until this post that is. Well let us hope you aren't going to run away now that the cat is out of the bag, ha ha!<br />
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<br />thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-39460465935551631202015-04-17T07:54:00.005-07:002015-04-17T07:59:01.444-07:00Non-Bestfriend ZoneI have this track-record of having friends who I grow close to and would like to call them my "bestfriend" but there is this catch... they never seem to return the favor. I must have something about me that evermore places me in the "not bestfriend material" category. I do realize that the "ideal" friendship seen in movies where to women are super close, talk/test/see each other daily is not as prevalent as Hollywood would have you think. I still yearn deeply for it though, as I always have for as long as I can remember. From day one I have wanted someone who knows me, gets my humor, understands my moods, and has similar passions and want to put as much effort into the relationship as me. Silly, and probably never going to happen sadly.<br />
<br />
Every time in the past 10 years that I get close to someone one of two things inevitably occurs: One, they either don't feel that way about me or they already have that one designated bestfriend or two, they move within 6 months of us getting close. I am not exaggerating, this happens EVERY SINGLE TIME. I am the "Good Luck Chuck" of my friend-group. If you want to get out of Dodge be friends with this lady! I do have amazing friends who have moved far away, and I adore them, but they aren't here, and we talk even less with the distance, as much as that makes me sad and I do try to stay in contact. I realize that this is our 20s, it is just what happens after high school and college. People grow up, get a better job and move away. But seriously, everyone?!<br />
<br />
I also understand "you can have more than one bestfriend" and yes, you can, but that would be hard to put all that effort into so many baskets. I suppose if you juggle, taking a friend at a time and rotating them, it could be done. But I still am left out of the nametag, I don't get the title even when I put in an inordinate amount of effort. I am all give, and many times my friends are all take. It is disheartening and discouraging.<br />
<br />
So here is an open invitation, please be my bestie! I'm in sore need of one.thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-3697801330234906452015-04-13T11:00:00.002-07:002015-04-13T11:54:03.892-07:00Self-Esteem and Societal NormsWhy does it seem to be a "radical" idea to be at peace with yourself? To have good self-esteem and love who you are as a person, and not care what others think of you? It is the media, this society we live in that has spread the nonsense that we need things to like ourselves, or worse, that we are not good enough and should refrain from liking ourselves in the first place. I do not like that we are constantly bombarded with the notion that we are not, nor cannot be, whole on our own. I love who I am, I feel you are damn lucky to know me, and for that I open myself up to criticism on a large scale. Women are not allowed within society to take a complement, it is considered rude. At the same time we are expected to be a doormat and respond to men who catcall us*. Women are expected to be not bold and fearless, but timid and shy, acquiescing to others' desires and never speaking up for their own or else they are being a b-word.<br />
<br />
Why is it threatening to some people to have a woman be strong? What is so scary about a female having all the abilities and strength (which are considered the domain of a man)? How is that a threat to anyone? On that point, why is equality in any form a threat? How is my making the same amount of money as a male in a job that that I am equally as qualified for a bad thing? Do people fear women making money, because that makes us less dependent upon men? Surely that is not the case, surely that is an archaic idea!<br />
<br />
Do you believe women are as smart as men? Do you like that you have the right to vote? Do you like not being legally your husband's property? Do you like owning your own property as a woman? Do you enjoy having any rights at all? Do you believe men should be allowed to cry and not feel as if they are "less manly"? Do you believe men should be allowed to pursue their dreams, no matter if they do not fit gender stereotypes? If you answered yes to any of those questions you ARE in fact a FEMINIST. #sorrynotsorry I really rebel against injustice and being told I am inferior to anyone. If that makes me combative at times, than it is for the greater good. I will not apologize for striving to make others' lives and my own better by pursuing equality.<br />
<br />
On the topic of femininity, that does not have to clash with strength. You can be a bold strong person and rock a lot of polka dots, lace, ruffles and bows. Being a feminist means allowing women and men the choice to be whoever they want to be and not judging them for their choice. It means allowing men the room to cry and feel emotions, because they have them and it should be fine to express them. It is all about the options, the choices we have, or perceive we have. The saying "Don't be such a girl" is demeaning to women, and I hear women say it to their sons! How, as a woman, can you say that?! Do you not hear yourself? You are putting yourself down as you demean and dismiss your son's valid emotions.<br />
<br />
The message is to be who you want to be, be the person who makes you happy regardless of what anyone else thinks or says as long as you are not harming others'. Be true, be you and help those less fortunate.<br />
<br />
It amazes me how blind people can be when they do not want to see something. How so many people believe that the issues women (and men) face all the time are not a reality. Just because you've been fortunate and have not encountered the prejudices that others have does not mean that they do not happen. Just because you haven't been discriminated against due to your religion, gender, sexual preference, or the color of your skin doesn't mean others have been so blessed. It is like saying that there is no racism because you have not seen it or experienced it yourself. It is like you ignore that portion of the population that has been judged or treated unfairly because it does not apply directly to you. How will you feel when someone someday treats you like you are worthless because of some part of you you have no control over? How will you feel when your daughter is beaten up by her boyfriend and accepts it because you never told her she was worth something as a woman? Protecting our girls should be something we can do by building them up, letting them be who they are and supporting their self-esteem and standing up for women's rights. The time is now, what are you doing about it?<br />
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*A catcall is demeaning and is not a complement, it is a bogus show of dominance over a woman and it is frankly quite frightening.<br />
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thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-39591365653256955492015-04-10T15:42:00.001-07:002015-04-10T15:42:08.898-07:00Condensed Autobiography <div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">I
was born in Oregon to my biological mother, who I was told, gave me up for
adoption to her mother, my biological maternal grandmother. I knew my
biological mother, saw her from time to time, but I identified her as my older
sister even though I knew she was my biological mother. I viewed her as “the
cereal box that the prize came in” for me, as the prize. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">I was always treated as older, smarter and
on-par with adults as a child. My mother would take me to fancy restaurants, to
plays, to museums and other places that are typically not for young children. I
feel it helped me behave better and learn social skills.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">As
a child we lived in Provo, Utah and I had a very charmed existence. My mom he let me have my way basically
all the time, I was taken out of school just to spend the day with my mom. We
had several foreign exchange students and one invited us to come visit her in
Germany. We took a trip to Germany and while there we </span><span style="line-height: 32px;">traveled</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> all over Europe
and were spoiled by our hosts. I was maybe 5 or 6 at the time, and I only
remember fragments of it now. My mother spoiled me, I remember </span><span style="line-height: 32px;">specifically</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> my 5th birthday
party I had a pony for my invitees to ride. I remember at 12 I got $100 to spend at Toys’R’Us. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 32px;">During my childhood I wanted a sister badly and prayed often for one, and when I was 7 my biological mom had another daughter, who my biological grandmother adopted at birth.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">The kids I went to
school with were all from perfect nuclear families, not one was from a divorced
family. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">It
was a surreal experience looking back, that no one but me was from a single
parent household in my elementary class. I suppose a great part of the reason I
was in that situation was because we lived in “Mormonville, USA”, and family is
#1 priority among the Latter-Day Saint population. I was raised in the Mormon
church, and it influenced a lot of the guilt and shame I felt as a teenager. I
bloomed in Utah, I had many friends, I felt secure. I felt safe there, I would
walk alone to my friends’ houses and to and from school. It was a bubble of
safety and security there. One oddity was that I was absolutely boy crazy from
birth, but in Utah and among Mormon culture, dating is exclusively for 16-year-olds
and older. I felt shunned by the boys in my class early on, but looking back,
it may have been that the boys and girls did not associate due to our ages in
elementary school and typically children choose members of their own sex to
associate with. Still, a classmate or two I recall as having friends of both
genders, I was just not among that number. I was hopelessly awkward around boys
and doomed to have a crush on any boy who gave me the time of day. Towards age
12 and on, boys and girls matured a little and a crush of mine was returned
(finally in my eyes). I got a “boyfriend” in 6</span><sup style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">th</sup><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> grade, which meant
we talked and wrote notes to one another, but more than spending time together,
we did not ever even touch.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As
I matured and went to Middle School I made even more friends and felt even as
if I were “popular”, not as in being part of the in-crowd, that was never my
goal, but that I was friends with a very diverse population at school, I
accepted everyone as a friend if they wanted or needed a friend I was that
friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
was in “Drama Camp” the summer before 7<sup>th</sup> grade, I took it with a
friend from my elementary class. We had a lot of fun and I met several girls
that I became friends with. In 7<sup>th</sup> Grade I took several “artsy”
classes including drama, art, chorale, guitar and I participated in every
school play there was and a talent show (where a friend and I sang “Leaving on
a Jet Plane” while I played guitar). I submersed myself in cultural and
artistic things, just like I was raised to do apparently. My mother instilled
in me a great love of the arts, performing and theatrics. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">My entire 7<sup>th</sup>
Grade experience was a pleasant one, and then we had to choose where to move.
My mom gave me the choice, I got to pick where we lived from that point
forward. The choices were to stay in Provo but find a new home, move to
Illinois where my mother was from, or move to Clovis, NM where my biological
uncle and his wife and kids lived. I do not remember how long I took to decide,
but my cousins drew me here. I wanted them to grow up knowing me and my family
so the summer before 8<sup>th</sup> Grade we took a U-Haul truck and moved to
Clovis without a backup plan and without a somewhere to live in place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Upon
arrival in Clovis, we stayed with my brother (biological uncle) and his family
one night, and then I left to church camp. One nice thing about the LDS church
is that it is everywhere. I went to camp, not knowing anyone, and feeling very
much like a fish out of water. I had been popular, I could make friends easily
before, but I had always had some other friend there too. I had no experience
being alone and having to have no common experiences to share in order to make
friends. I did not have a good time at camp, I felt different, and out of place
to say the least. My church experience with those set of girls went much that
same way ever after. I was always the outsider, they were always the close-knit
click. My struggle to attend church before Clovis was nonexistent, but once
here I did not want to go, even though I did for a long while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">At
school I gravitated to the arts again, I took art and choir, but was not
allowed to take drama because it was a class only for 9<sup>th</sup> graders I
was told. In choir I had a church friend, so I became friends by default with
all of her friends. Boys and girls
associated even more here in Clovis than I had ever dealt with before this, it
was new but I welcomed it. I was so in love with boys that the chance to talk
to them was terrific fun! I had attempted to make male friends in Provo, and I
chatted with several boys during my classes but I inevitably had feelings for
every single one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
had my second “boyfriend” in 8<sup>th</sup> Grade for about a month (my first
boyfriend and I broke up over the phone sometime previous, after at least a
year of supposedly dating). My new guy was just like me, very academic, was in
choir and full of yearning to love and be loved, we were kindred spirits. His
family made him break up with me because of religious differences, and it broke
my heart. It was the first time I had been judged for my religion in my entire
life. He and I wanted at least to remain friends, but he went into homeschool
after that year, and we did not stay in contact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
9<sup>th</sup> Grade I met a new beau, in choir once again. My first boyfriend was also teased and socially inept, I became a
sucker for the downtrodden. This boyfriend was the first “real” relationship,
which involved holding hands and I even got my first kiss from him. We stayed
together for 1 ½ years but my eye wandered when I moved up to high school and
he was still in junior high. I broke it off with him even though he was pretty
much the perfect standard of what girls dream of having in a suitor. I was
young and naïve, I thought all men would treat me this well. Boy was I in for a
shock! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
had a good high school experience, it was filled with me hitting my stride once
again. I was better at making friends, I accepted everyone once more. I floated
between stereotypes and groups within school, I did not fit any category and I
had friends from a myriad of groups. I met my future ex-husband during my
sophomore year, he was great friends with my best friend (who had stalked me
all the summer before until we were inseparable). Of course, a love triangle
ensued, as it had to in our situation. Our trio broke when my ex-husband chose
me over my best friend. I was self-absorbed and I failed to notice her
feelings, I failed to see how much it hurt that I was chosen. I simultaneously
spent more and more time with my future ex-husband and drifted away from my
best friend. I was blissfully unaware I was doing so, I was so wrapped up in
the new relationship. I regret my selfishness immensely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">So
my new guy was a wreck, the biggest project I have undertaken to date. He had a
bad family situation where everyone blamed him for everything bad. He was very
reactive as well, and I see that he brought on a lot of the criticism himself
due to his lazy habits and his selfish behavior as well as being combative. I
was blind, as one inevitably is when falling in love, and I ignored all his bad
behavior and was staunchly on his side about everything. We were together a
little over a year and a half when we more or less eloped. Well, we married in
my mom’s living room with my family and our mutual best friend there, but none
of his family was told nor invited. That was a mess, for sure. I made so many
mistakes in regards to everything about him. I should have been solely friends
with this poor broken soul, I should have supported from a distance, and not
entangled myself in his wreck of a life. I should have not married him at 18 in
the middle of our senior year of high school, let alone at all. I should have
learned to be single, but I was not single more than a month at any point from
age 12-20, and even after my divorce I did not stay single long, I jumped into
a new relationship not 6 months after it imploded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
married him as much because I loved him as because I held a great deal of guilt
over having pre-marital sex with him. I cannot even begin to tell how much I
cried, how I kept it a tainted secret from everyone I knew. I felt horrible and
filthy. My religious background made me have incredible remorse and shame over
this fact. I had the silly thought that marrying him would make me feel okay
about the decision to sleep with him. I practically forced him into it just to
alleviate my guilt. He was not good for me and tried to deter me from going to
church and school (college). We were not happily married for long before I
discovered his pornography addiction. I was young and naïve, I had had no idea
that he harbored such a secret. I did not have experience handling conflict let
alone something he saw as fine for the most part, and something I saw as 500%
wrong and disgusting. I could not abide that he would have it in our home, and
numerous times he or I would throw out his smut, but it did nothing. He always
brought back more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Perhaps
my hatred of it drove a wedge between us, he may see it that way, but to me, it
will be his disrespect for me and my feelings. I do believe he had a genuine
addiction from the reactions we both experienced through our troubled marriage.
He could not stop himself, and I had no way to help him. It was a sad situation
but I would have died for him, and I dug my heels in and would not have let him
go for anything in the world. He spent more and more time outside of the house,
he did not have a cell phone and there were many days a week I had no idea
where he was and he was unable to be located. He did no respect me or how I
felt, he did not want to spend much time with me. I was torn up by how he
played with my feelings, but he did not seem to care how I felt because it only
served to make him feel guilty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">My
ex-husband and I stayed married a year and nine months before he cheated and
left me for her. Long story short his cheating was a deal-breaker, but I did
toy with the notion of forgiving him because I loved him so immensely. I was
firm about getting a divorce within 2-4 weeks and I filled for divorce on his
birthday, and it was final in under a week. I threw myself deeply into church,
and it filled the void. It made me feel whole and happy, but I was there, at
least partially, for the wrong reasons. I wanted a new man, that has been my
never-</span><span style="line-height: 32px;">ceasing</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> goal all my life. I do not feel it has anything to do with not
having a father because I have never really felt I was missing one. I have
always felt this void that could only be filled with a companion. I longed for
a twin sister all of my life as well, I have ached for a consort always (starting with my deep hope for a sister),
regardless of gender, though it seems I usually sought a male. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">So
I went to church fervently and found not one date, and I still enjoyed going
nonetheless, but my hope was “someday” I would find a mate again. My current
husband came along fairly quickly, and as much as I was definitively only
looking for a friend a long last, he wanted a relationship. I acquiesced
quickly, I am not great with willpower. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">My
husband and I had a blissful relationship for a year, and after that it had our
share of super high highs and very dramatic lows. We had a surprise pregnancy
after over a year and a half together. She brought us back together when we
surely would have been at an end of our relationship. It was not planned, but
she made the world of difference in our relationship. I definitely would not
recommend having a baby to try to salvage a relationship, it only worked in our
case because it was a good relationship that only failed because we gave up. We
got engaged when she was 8 months old and married when she was 20 months old.
It all happened backwards, it was at times a complete whirlwind and others it
was dreadfully slow going. We are happy together, we laugh often, have two
little daughters and it ended up working out, but it was a complete learning
experience. If I had not been hurt like I had, I would not have appreciated
what I have now. Not only that, but my clinginess in my past relationships
would have worn out my present husband if I had not learned to rein them in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
have learned to rein in the suffocating need to be needed to a great degree,
but under it all, it is there still. I can also see that in my family we need
to be accepted, we bend over backward for others to be liked. It strikes a hard
blow to be rejected and we take it harshly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">My mom instilled in my
sister and me that the world is a scary place full of dangerous and untruthful
people. I feel that impact strongly, I do feel afraid of ever being on my own
in public, that I am in constant danger, but at the same time I think it is the
only truly rational way to think. To believe that you are safe, or feel like
nothing bad can happen to you is naïve and irresponsible. My poor daughters
have to deal with me telling them we cannot go to the park, the store, or any
place that is not behind a locked door unless I have my mother and sister or my
husband with us. I would always rather be prudent than reckless so we all
suffer for it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-6853993009300358702015-01-06T10:48:00.001-08:002015-01-06T10:48:39.979-08:00Battling Food Addiction<div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I think about food, at minimum, 4 times an hour. If there is a lull in my work, my conversations, or my mind wanders for a second I obsess about food. It is constantly on my mind, and it has only been since I began counting calories, and paying attention to what I eat and how much, that I realized it was a problem. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm in a constant state of desiring food, even if I just ate and should be full. It took me about a month to know what actual hunger felt like. I was so used to just using the excuse that "life is too short to count calories", that I didn't know what feeling full was. I still don't ever feel satisfied, I always desire more because I love the taste. It takes so much effort to limit my intake and stick to it. I fail most days to stay under 1700 calories, but my new way of life diet still is drastically less than I was putting into my body. If I go over 200 calories, I'm still at least under 1000 less than I was eating daily before I started. </div><div><br></div><div>So there it is, I was eating 3000 plus calories on average EACH DAY. I miss being allowed to eat all I wanted of whatever I wanted, but I know it is psychologically unhealthy, beyond being physically unhealthy. It has been 4-5 months and it was easier at first, of course, but I know it'll probably always be a constant battle, but I hope it someday isn't. </div><div><br></div><div>Being addicted to food is terribly hard. It isn't like I can just quit eating cold turkey. I wish i could! I'm going to be brutally honest, I envy the thought of being able to have enough self control to just not eat, like anorexic. I lack that drive and determination and I have to struggle everyday to balance not feeling deprived (which is the biggest reason people fail on diets) and staying under 1700. I love food too much! </div><div><br></div><div>I wish I could just stop eating when I'm full. It is so hard for me to recognize the feeling in the first place, let alone have the will power to stop if there is food left on my plate. I have a hatred for wasting food, and how wasteful America is, so I try to eat everything on my plate. </div><div><br></div><div>Portions are so hard too! The food I want most typically has the most calories, and I'm not full (or don't feel satisfied) eating the correct portion. I try to use smaller plates and try to limit going back for seconds (and if I do, getting less than the fist go). </div><div><br></div><div>I do know a lot, if not most, is psychological. I think while I'm eating, "is this enough to feel full? Am I full but only WANT more? If I stop eating now will I feel full enough to last with no snacking until dinner?" Etcetera. I don't have a healthy relationship with food, I am utterly obsessed. I wish I knew someone who had defeated their addiction to food! Also I wish to know someone who is predisposed to obesity but eats well and stays slim so I could learn healthy eating habits. A major problem is my picky eating (and, no, I can't simply just try new things. Not can I "snap out of it" if I wanted to). I have a very limited set of select items I can eat without involuntarily throwing up. Yes, it is that dramatic. I cannot eat certain foods without the reaction of gagging so hard I vomit. I've tried, and once again, it is psychological, but so be it. Apparently I'm in need if heavy duty therapy! Ha ha! </div><div><br></div><div>The one positive is I don't emotionally eat, at least not to an unhealthy level. I like to celebrate with food, and occasionally cheer myself up with food, but I don't eat worse things than I normally would. It becomes a spending issue because in both those cases I want to go out to dinner, but I'm still careful about what I eat. </div><div><br></div><div>I have, however, lost a total of 19 pounds now. It seems ludicrously slow going, but it is coming off. Only 70 more lbs to go! </div><div><br></div>thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-57307560216837504472014-12-31T21:23:00.001-08:002014-12-31T21:23:26.425-08:00My First Tattoo<div><br></div><div>On December 29th 2014 my best friend and I got our first tattoos together. We were both extremely nervous but excited. I got a beautifully stylized Deathly Hallows tattoo in cobalt blue (the Hallows symbol) and turquoise (the stylized swirls). </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlgFnAUOENGKGj-j_QhS1j2exVeQLSuDNEj4S49N_cfgKJ2O1mySPFC5t_VkN76IXiixdrEMq6a_gwcSmLfOxxWdixnb19bzVCVMlWHUADBVT2hCMVEFzR2VUviwSLf7zkld2VOk5wTMT/s640/blogger-image--1058825542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlgFnAUOENGKGj-j_QhS1j2exVeQLSuDNEj4S49N_cfgKJ2O1mySPFC5t_VkN76IXiixdrEMq6a_gwcSmLfOxxWdixnb19bzVCVMlWHUADBVT2hCMVEFzR2VUviwSLf7zkld2VOk5wTMT/s640/blogger-image--1058825542.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>I was nervous, the pain to a lesser extent, but primarily the tattoo itself. Would it be well done? Like to my high standards well done? Would I regret having a tattoo, regardless of the image? I know I love Harry Potter, always have, so I doubted the symbolism would ever be a mistake, but a tattoo is permanent. It is a huge commitment, probably the biggest (children don't stay with you forever even, and sometimes things happen even with your spouse, but a tattoo is in your skin forever). </div><div><br></div><div>I mean, I had thought about it, and I did want it, but part of me thought about how I was partially getting it just to be a rebel, to have a talking point in my skin, and maybe that is the purpose of a tattoo. Maybe the meaning doesn't need to be weightier. And I wanted to commemorate my dear friendship with Rose. I haven't felt so happy with a friend or a friendship in years. I only have maybe 3 others who are on par with what she and I share, and even those 3 are very different friendships, of which only 1 still lives in my town! </div><div><br></div><div>I've had past friends I was immensely close to as well, and also ones who I love dearly now but it isn't the same, you know? Soul mates kind of, versus someone you love but it isn't "easy". I hope that makes sense. Becky was a very close friend, I loved her like no other friend, but it wasn't easy, and we lost it. I really loved Emily too, but she and I apparently were not politically like minded enough for her, because it didn't bother me that we had differences of opinions. Kari was entirely my mistake, jealousy and hurt ruined it due to me feeling immensely close to her, and hurt that I wasn't invited to her wedding and a tiny but jealous she got her happy ending way before mine (she'd been dating him less than a year, and I'd been dating Mike 2-3 years and wasn't even engaged yet).</div><div><br></div><div>I honestly think of those three ladies often, but I don't think I'm brave enough to fix anything :'(</div><div><br></div><div>I have many many great friends, but to click with someone on the level I'm talking about is rare. To agree with so many of the same things, to look forward to seeing one another no matter how frequently you see each other and to be able to pick up where you left off after years is a rare and wondrous gift. </div><div><br></div><div>So here we (Rose and I) are at Clovis Ink, at 5:00 on a Monday evening. We chatted about tattoos, how much we'd heard it hurt, and how cool tiny teacup tattoos on our pinkies would be (maybe later we'll get them together) so that as you are actually drinking out of a teacup and your pinkie is extended you show it off). </div><div><br></div><div>We filled out our paperwork (liability releases), and got to talking about handwriting. I can't do cursive, whereas Rose likes her cursive best. </div><div><br></div><div>I decided to go first, (which I guess was Rose's idea too. She is a self described "pull off the bandaid" type too) and I just hoped that I'd be brave! I tried to breathe (that was hard initially) and I kinda failed at first! I got dizzy and lightheaded like I do when I get my blood drawn and IVs put in. I think I lasted maybe 2-5 minutes until I needed a break. I put my head in my hands and asked for water. It didn't take too long to feel better once I drank some water, and I went for it again. At some point I ended up holding Rose's hand for moral support. I said colorful things like, "oh this is bothersome" and "this isn't the most pleasant thing ever", ha ha! I don't think I swore once somehow! </div><div><br></div><div>I discovered my ability to distract myself and Rose by keeping the conversation flowing. I asked her about her siblings, her family, her first pet, her favorite book series, her first fandom (Anime, Yu-Gi-Oh and Naruto), etc. I also gave my answers as well, and it took up enough time to breeze through the remainder if my tattoo. It was annoying, but easily forgotten while we were talking. </div><div><br></div><div>Once mine was finished we swapped seats and Rose got her crescent moon with swirling interior, and three tiny stars. </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Rk9JLZc5N4ORr3NlYTc_nOY_Y2UNfHFZ-T7GYPu-PPamdolauN-9QClQ_ZcOy3wx-7QmAzqkZ-XO9YudFYyYfiEqonnFszczumHOtVZA83sgXNPimdkdpqnB7Db_a-aaQWN9L_X4ulOH/s640/blogger-image--1967637795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Rk9JLZc5N4ORr3NlYTc_nOY_Y2UNfHFZ-T7GYPu-PPamdolauN-9QClQ_ZcOy3wx-7QmAzqkZ-XO9YudFYyYfiEqonnFszczumHOtVZA83sgXNPimdkdpqnB7Db_a-aaQWN9L_X4ulOH/s640/blogger-image--1967637795.jpg"></a> </div><div><br></div>Her placement was her left wrist on the interior side. It hurt quite a but judging by her reaction. I held her hand for support and she worried she was hurting me (she didn't at all). I tried to keep the conversation rolling. We talked to our tattooist Brian, asked him about how long he'd been tattooing (5 years), what got him into that profession, his art hanging on the walls, etc.</div><div><br></div><div>Anyway we also talked about Lost Girl, Lord of the Rings (plus how Mike and I had "remet"), movie marathons, actors, Guardians of the Galaxy, how we'd found fandoms, and all things geeky. It was a very fun conversation and it was enlightening, I think even with all the time we've spent talking (and talking and talking) in the past few months we still have barely scratched the surface of topics! We've spent at least a full 24+ hours talking about the world and we still haven't had a lull in conversation! </div><div><br></div><div>After our tattoos were finished, we paid Brian and thanked him. Now we'll both have a permanent reminder of one another. This is one friendship that is destined to last. I think I chose the right friend to make such a permanent decision with <3</div><div><br></div><div>I feel so incredibly blessed to have found a great friend like Rose, and it is so bittersweet that she is leaving soon. I'm the "Good Luck Chuck" of my friends. If you want to move at some point, all you need to to get remotely close to me and within a year you'll be deployed, find a job offer you or your spouse can't refuse, or somehow you'll end up across the country (or in this case, across the world!). </div><div><br></div><div>I intend to still keep in as much contact as possible with my busy schedule, and I know things work out how they are meant to. </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJRBlFZbOF81a_lAlKqLfCQ34GEeQiOWwdsa8zGG8sMcmSh-v0Kjsg9yuhLxdPd5e-7tKRutFmfNBYqwiAcI2i0GffVHhHXzdKfXMuL02-CQsmdYWVDk-YEHBO7tEdA7WsvSDFrlz5Yi8/s640/blogger-image-1293025732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJRBlFZbOF81a_lAlKqLfCQ34GEeQiOWwdsa8zGG8sMcmSh-v0Kjsg9yuhLxdPd5e-7tKRutFmfNBYqwiAcI2i0GffVHhHXzdKfXMuL02-CQsmdYWVDk-YEHBO7tEdA7WsvSDFrlz5Yi8/s640/blogger-image-1293025732.jpg"></a></div>thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-10916043335557240852014-06-13T16:28:00.001-07:002014-06-13T16:28:09.732-07:00Disposable FriendshipsIn our society if it isn't easy, pleasing, perfect, and what you imagined it would be like, we at "taught" to remove it as soon as possible. This ideology is prevalent throughout every facet I can think of. Your car runs fine but doesn't have GPS built in? Ditch it. Your boyfriend made you mad? He <i>must</i> be a horrible person so get rid of him! Did your friend dare to have a differing opinion? What a total *witch*! <div><br></div><div>This is the mentality of most people I come across, and what is worse is I still never see it coming. </div><div><br></div><div>I have to admit, I am absolutely not like this. I believe in making the best of what I have, working through trouble spots in my relationships and agreeing to disagree without holding it against someone. </div><div><br></div><div>I find myself constantly wishing for a like-minded friend, someone who will be there for me if I need someone. I would be there for any one of my friends in a heartbeat if they needed to talk, or to just have a good cry. I have had very, very few friends who have ever been there fire me in any capacity and it seems that they leave me shortly after my needs are met. I have so much to offer as a friend, I am loyal, I'll stick around, I will listen and I feel I have the life experience to help many people if they are going through the difficulties I have been through. Quite honestly I <u>want</u> to help people, I want to be a friend, I want to bend over backward for your benefit. </div><div><br></div><div>I keep making friends who throw me aside when we have differences of opinions, or a miscommunication. In a marriage those aren't reasons to bail (for a rational adult) so how do "friends" rationalize this act of betrayal? Why not tell me what I do that upsets you so I can have the opportunities to fix it? Why is it so hard to agree to disagree and continue to support each other?</div><div><br></div><div>Lastly, a single mother will try to protect her children from heartache by not introducing a man until things are relatively stable so that her children don't get attached then break their hearts when they leave. So how come a mother will make friends with another mother, let their children bond and become friends and then tear their children away from these friends when they no longer are willing to put effort in the relationship with the other mom? Am I the only mother who thinks of this? I care about my kids having friends, and I'd at least try very hard to work at a relationship with another mom who my kinds were involved with her children.</div><div><br></div><div>Where did the notion of "it takes a village to raise a child" go? Why is there a marked sense of "everyone for him/herself"? Why can't there be a real support system of women who take care of one another and help with what they can? I haven't found this anywhere, and it is a real shame since I would love to have this comrodery with friends. </div><div><br></div><div>I have great difficulty in finding friend, not even taking into account compatibility. I feel that I can be compatible with nearly any type of person, you merely need to overlook differences and work at meeting one another's needs. That isn't to say innately toxic relationships should be endured, but think before you rashly cast someone aside. Think of you children (if you have any), theirs (if they have any), and the friend in question. And before cutting ties, grow up and confront the issues before throwing in the towel or cutting off someone without even attempting to fix the problem. </div>thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-49535055131719407782014-05-16T15:43:00.001-07:002014-05-16T15:56:35.417-07:00Minimum Wages are Poverty Wages<div>A family can't live on minimum wage at 40 hours a week. How do I know? Because I make more than minimum wage and we struggle. With only one adult working in the home it isn't possible to survive. And there are many single moms and dads out there. My family only makes $25,000, but someone making minimum wage makes $14,500 a year. We are currently on Food Stamps and WIC besides living in income-based public housing. If me making $12.37 isn't enough to make it working 40 hours per week, how is $7.55 going to do it?</div><div><br></div><div>Yes, if we had no car (we pay less than $300 per month on a 2007 vehicle) or phones (we have data plans I am sure we *could* live without that cost $100 a month) we'd be able to afford food without government assistance. But still, we make more than those on minimum wage, and we still qualify for "assistance" which indicates we don't make enough money to support our family without help (by the way, they take into account your gross income before taxes to determine if you are eligible for government aid). </div><div><br></div><div>We've never had to support ourselves and our children on $7.55 an hour, so I can't say for certain it is or isn't possible, but if we didn't have assistance we wouldn't have a car, a roof over our heads, food, or the money to buy toiletries. We don't have high speed internet, cable/Satelite (although we do have lowest-speed internet and Netflix), our girls have 90% free hand-me-downs, and we live In income-based public housing, etc. I think we live pretty simply but I can't fathom living on even a dollar less per hour and surviving, let alone thriving. We are incredibly blessed to have insurance through my job but that takes $500+ out of my monthly paycheck. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm personally not complaining about how little we have, we definitely have just enough (but I'd like to not have to depend on Food Stamps and WIC), but I can't imagine how it is okay for a single parent to make so little and depend on government agencies.<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div><br></div><div>Poor people aren't necessarily poor because they are "lazy" or don't work hard enough. Wages need to be increased for the benefit of those who really need it. And you know what? Who cares if some people don't "deserve" it, it isn't my business to judge them and it isn't my problem how they choose to spend the wages they EARNED. </div>thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-87928325260666836272014-03-07T15:31:00.003-08:002014-03-07T17:02:23.014-08:00My Breastfeeding Experience<div class="MsoNormal">
Breastfeeding has been an incredible experience, both extraordinarily
difficult and beautifully rewarding. To begin with, it was the hardest
combination of things I have ever had to push through. I have had more
difficult times with emotional struggles or physical strain but never both so
much as breastfeeding was in the beginning. I cried so much, I fought for the
“good latch” (even if her latch was perfect it still hurt a LOT in the
beginning). Pain, emotions, tears and lack of sleep. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">Pretty much what you sign
up for when you are a new parent, but this was overwhelming. It was why I quit
breastfeeding Mairead early on. I couldn’t handle the pain, I didn’t know at
the time why it hurt, and wasn’t patient enough to wait it out in hopes it
would go away. I gave up pumping too with her because it took such a long time
to get anything (I had a manual hand-pump that was for one side at a time). I
couldn’t keep up with her needs with that dinky pump, and it took up literally
all of my time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With Eili I didn’t expect it to be easy, but I was
determined. That was all it took. It was just as hard (but for some different
reasons, as well as the pain and time-consumingness). Eili fed all the time
(and my reaction to her was simply “if she cries, whip out a boob”. It worked.
It hurt for a few weeks, and I persevered through it. Supply and demand is
correct. You just have to really commit to it, actually basically sitting
around for a few weeks (or months) feeding your baby non stop. At first I hated
this. I hated having to never be able to set her down, to have to be truly
constantly on call for her. I hated how no one else could feed her, how I was
her basic resource for everything. Eventually I began to look at it like this:
she will only be small for a little while, she will only need me like this
temporarily, and every time she needs me gives me a break from life. Who doens’t
need a break now of days? It is a blessing to breastfeed, even though you could
also look at it as a burden. Now that we are almost 6 months into it, it is
amazingly easier than bottle feeding ever was. I carry her food with me, I
don’t have to make her a bottle in the middle of the night, and she is getting
the very best nutrition. If you can breastfeed why wouldn’t you? I do not judge
a woman who actually cannot breastfeed, but it honestly confuses me why you
wouldn’t if you were able. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I judge myself very critically now that I look back at my
giving up with Mairead. I was weak, but she was my first and I feel like you
crumble much easier with the first child than subsequent children. My backbone
is now iron compared to when I first had Mairead. Now you couldn’t hope to
change my mind unless your research was bulletproof. It was damn hard to breastfeed
Eili, but I am a dang Super Mom for doing it all. I work full-time, I am a mom
all the time, I clean my house, I cook meals, and I breastfeed and/or pump
while juggling all of this! If I can do it you sure as heck can! <o:p></o:p></div>
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The closeness and love I share with Eili is unlike anything
I have ever had with anyone, and sadly that includes Mairead. I love them both,
but the bond was instant with Eili and has grown exponentially deeper quicker
than my love for Mairead grew. I am so disappointed in myself for ruining that
potential with Mairead. It breaks my heart for mommas who choose to not
breastfeed at all when they could. The bond is unexplainable and it is richer
and more rewarding than anything I’ve found so far in life. It makes me
personally a better mother and wife as well as citizen because my empathy has
skyrocketed. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNOBurVbgzitCp6UBwrQ0sFLGHz4DenHdxaRpHzkcrR8f5DyVMPx4g_b9Da9brp-X2fPoXEw8lUJ2dcRRCbfjB_mMCvvbgmCsWsN0SM5tKtvVQuo73Z1DE9ohBlrSIU18G_5Q5-YsjNpT1/s640/blogger-image-42960837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNOBurVbgzitCp6UBwrQ0sFLGHz4DenHdxaRpHzkcrR8f5DyVMPx4g_b9Da9brp-X2fPoXEw8lUJ2dcRRCbfjB_mMCvvbgmCsWsN0SM5tKtvVQuo73Z1DE9ohBlrSIU18G_5Q5-YsjNpT1/s640/blogger-image-42960837.jpg"></a></div><br></div>
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I now don't know when I'll ever want to stop! I was so tempted to "get my body back" as in, not be needed constantly, at first. But now, I love it. I figure, if it is great for my baby then it would be selfish to stop (ever?) so.... when will I? I guess who knows, but eventually probably ;)</div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-71344510559342811842013-10-05T19:38:00.001-07:002013-10-05T19:43:09.097-07:00Eilí's Birth Versus Mairéad's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcQc6Nw7mK-_G0SRJtSmRbi0DvaGu3PG5ABy1Gd-vHnmQObZKjKOHddh0dUxvLq1_GAtw2W6RckXH3FMYAXmjCLQfMknKMOm1U9a4JWUmOBvSTIjVq08OIawhifVaJE6om-mzkkwjfeqn/s1600/Mairead+and+Eili+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcQc6Nw7mK-_G0SRJtSmRbi0DvaGu3PG5ABy1Gd-vHnmQObZKjKOHddh0dUxvLq1_GAtw2W6RckXH3FMYAXmjCLQfMknKMOm1U9a4JWUmOBvSTIjVq08OIawhifVaJE6om-mzkkwjfeqn/s1600/Mairead+and+Eili+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Mairéad was a totally different pregnancy and birth than
Eilí was. With Mairéad the whole pregnancy I was researching fetal progress and
was totally consumed with her. I loved her the minute I knew I was pregnant, I
thought about here several times a day and I loved every second (even the
painful third trimester). I even knew without a doubt she had to be a girl,
even before we were far enough along to get the ultrasound to confirm. I fell
in love with who I thought she’d be and I was heartbroken that she had to be
born and be separated from me. I cried often thinking about not being pregnant
when she was born, I was very desolate. Then when she was born I felt like I
didn’t know her, it was a total disconnect from the little girl I loved in the
womb. I didn’t love her instantly like everyone says you will, I felt empty. It
took me weeks to adjust and to fall in love with her completely. I’m being
honest here, and I am sure I’m not the only mom in history to have to fall in
love with their child after they were born and not have it come naturally. <o:p></o:p></div>
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With Eilí I didn’t have time to fantasize about her. We didn’t
know her gender, and that actually made me have a horrible time bonding with
this gender-less fetus I was carrying. I didn’t want to know (and more precisely,
I liked keeping everyone else in the dark. It had been my experience that not
knowing my friends’ babies’ genders pre-birth was much more exciting. I loved
the surprise and suspense!) but how can you bond if you can’t picture how they’ll
be with their big sister? I felt in my gut that she *had* to be another girl,
but I couldn’t be certain because I felt it was my fervent desire to have a
second girl that was making me feel that way. Honestly, all my dreams involved
sisters who were close as best friends, and if it had been a boy I know I would
have taken it much harder than is rational. It caused a great conflict in my
heart, I couldn’t bond with a baby who I wasn’t sure was a girl… I know I am a
horrible person, but that was how it was. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Both times I had a Cesarean Section. I elected to with
Mairéad, and was super adamant about it. I had no real legitimate reason to
have one with her, but I talked the doctor into it and he let me schedule one.
It turns out she was 9 lbs 1 oz, 21 inches long with a round head that was in
the 100<sup>th</sup> percentile! The medical professionals said that those
factors would have more than likely made me have to have a C-Section if I’d
labored before hand, and the recovery would have been harder! With Eilí, I was
pretty terrified about the C-Section. I was stupid enough to look into all the
things that could go wrong the weeks preceding the scheduled C-Section. I cried
all afternoon the day before she was born because I was so scared (even though
I’d done it before!). <o:p></o:p></div>
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On Mairéad’s birthday everything was a blur, we spent a few
days in the hospital and I felt “rushed” out. I was scared to go home,
especially with the pain I was having (which was not as bad as I anticipated
from the incision, since I had nerve damage and couldn’t feel much of it. It
was 90% back pain from the spinal block. I had a huge grapefruit sized bruise
on my back from it!). With Eilí my pain was easier to deal with, and I didn’t
get the horrible back bruise and pain (but I did mention how bad my first back
pain had been to the anesthesiologist. I didn’t know it could have been better,
but man, it can be sooooo much better!). I couldn’t tell you all the things I
felt and thought with Mairéad after birth and in the hospital. I was tired and
I put off making a journal entry about it until it was too late and all the details
had faded away. Now I am two weeks post-partum with Eilí and already I’m
forgetting things about her birth! <o:p></o:p></div>
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On Eilí’s birthday we had to be at the hospital at 5:00 AM.
I woke up at 3:30 AM to get ready (yes I insisted on wearing makeup and doing
my hair). Mike and I arrived at 5:05 AM at the ER and were told to go on to
labor & delivery where quote “They have been waiting for you”… as if 5
minutes is a huge deal (and they didn’t even take me back into surgery until an
hour later than scheduled, at 8:00 AM versus 7:00 AM)! We had 3 hours to wait
and to worry. We watched “That 70’s Show” and “Golden Girls” while we waited.
The IV was the most horrible experience of the entire procedure (for Mairéad’s
birth and Eilí’s as well). I asked an anesthesiologist to do my IV since I have
a bad track record with IVs. Apparently I should have had an understanding
nurse do it because he still blew one of my veins and ended up using a bigger
needle (which I felt for the 2.5 days I had to have it). I am hyper aware of
IVs, I feel them even when I don’t move, and they freak me out and make me
dizzy/nauseous. I have a preferred insertion point, but the anesthesiologist
wouldn’t listen and put it in a vein on the inside of my wrist, so moving my
wrist at all made it move (which made me ill). </div>
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So then more waiting, and then I was lead back to the OR with two nurses. I had
a new anesthesiologist there (maybe I ticked off the first one with my crying
over the IV?), and he did great. The spinal block wasn’t horrible, (in fact,
nearly no bruising or back pain since!) and it was fairly fast. I could still “sense”
my legs, but no feeling (which was so weird!). Mike was let into the OR shortly
after I was on the table and he didn’t sit like he did with Mairéad… which
worried me, since he could accidentally glance over the curtain in front of me
and see the operation (he says he saw Eilí come out, but nothing more graphic).
I’m so glad they didn’t tell me what was going on, I was trying desperately not
to think about the incision, etc. In no time Eilí was out, we heard her cry
(which was so different than Mairéad’s, which was loud and ear-splitting
whereas Eilí’s was normal and kind of cute). Mike’s eyes were glued to Eilí the
minute she was out. I kept asking him questions, but he barely noticed, ha ha!
He was enamored with our second little girl. They brought her to us and we
asked her weight. They said they wouldn’t know until they took her to the
nursery (that was different than Mairéad, we knew her birth time and weight all
in the OR). I had to wait another hour (or two?) in recovery to find out her
weight! It was 8 lbs 9 ounces by the way (Mairéad’s was 9 lbs 1 ounce). She was 21 ¼ inches
long (a quarter inch taller than Mairéad, but half a pound lighter!)</div>
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Mike and Eilí left shortly after and then I was readied to go to “recovery”.
This time I was hot, like sweating like a pig, super uncomfortably hot. With
Mairéad I was fine, but I shivered convulsively as if I was freezing. It is so
weird how two C-Sections can be so entirely different, and done by the same
doctor! Even the recovery was so different! With Mairéad my back pain post-partum
was horrendous, and it never entirely went away (it would flare up when I did
too much). Two weeks out, and my back feels no worse than before Eilí (and
somewhat better than in my pregnancy with Eilí). My incision barely was noticeable
after 2 weeks with Mairéad (which I attribute to nerve damage) and my back was
tolerable too. This time my incision feels pretty good right now, but I’m still
careful. I had issues with the staples this time (I had to have 2 staples
removed before we left the hospital on day 4, and when I had all the others
removed a week after the surgery one nurse was so concerned with the
crookedness of the staples that she called in backup… who then called in Dr.
Moore to make sure I could have them all removed!). </div>
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We stayed maybe 3 days with Mairéad, and 4 days with Eilí (who had jaundice,
and they kept her under the lights for a day and a half). I had a horrible time
breastfeeding Mairéad, (looking back, she must have had a bad latch, but I didn’t
know the importance of latching then) but with Eilí it was pretty natural. She
has a huge little mouth, and a fantastic latch 80% of the time. I feel disappointed
and like I should have done more research or tried harder with Mairéad since it
was no one’s fault but mine that I succumbed to the pressures of the nurses
(they said things like “She isn’t getting enough since she is so big” and “If
it hurts so much why not supplement?”). It was the easy way out, and it sucks.
Mairéad
is perfect and super smart, but still. I’m much more determined this time (and
I was adamant in the hospital about breastfeeding, even when they made it sound
like that was what was causing the jaundice) even with only 2 weeks off work to
figure it out, and me having to pump at work. I’m hoping for 6 months at least. </div>
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Now that I’m done being pregnant, I can tell you that Eilí
was a harder pregnancy (I had mild morning sickness the first trimester, my
lower back ache started in the second trimester instead of the third, but my
swelling began later and was maintainable instead of out of control), even
though from what I’ve heard from other moms it was still a relative breeze. I
loved being pregnant both times (but took the end harder with Mairéad, where I
was borderline depressed). With Eilí I was more excited to meet her (especially
considering the lack-of-bonding I felt while in utero) and so thrilled for Mairéad
to meet her new sibling. We’d been trying to get pregnant for 22 months, so she
was a blessing I’d prayed for every day. I never intended Mairéad to be an only
child, and in all my dreams she had a little sister (who ws much closer in age,
but we couldn’t arrange that no matter how hard we tried). I only feel a little
sad that she has to adjust to having a sister, because I’ve envisioned the
benefits all of my own life. My own sister and I are 7 years apart, and it is
much too big of a gap. We could have been so much closer if our gap wasn’t
nearly a generation. I always wanted a twin sister growing up, and then as an
adult I wanted to have twin girls. I feel it is making a built in best friend
(and with me having such a hard time making friends, this is can prevent that
with my children I hope). <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
One thing that is completely awesome is that so far Mairéad adores her. She calls Eilí "her" baby. She talks about how cute/adorable/sweet, etc Eilí is at least once an hour. She is totally enamored with her and doesn't seem to mind that we have to feed her constantly and change her diaper often. She seems to understand that we still love her totally, but we also have to take care of her sister too. She hasn't shown any jealousy, and she loves to hold Eilí when we let her. I look forward to seeing how they interact as they grow up together. They are 3 years and 2 months apart, but they'll be 4 school years apart. I definitely hope Mairéad and Eilí are able to have things in common and understand one another with such a gap. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj189vT2wLh3uo6iZuKP6kbPJR7_PdCZn1pXFoHVhjqT0KOvv0tS2OwSmqi7lbsgCjH0lo1J1xn5BRO32YYwlj4LVltkQgQeCtUZudt-XG2f-Mk3fcOBMZJ7tp2i6NQh7KI6-8Q7QqUbBSl/s1600/Eili+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj189vT2wLh3uo6iZuKP6kbPJR7_PdCZn1pXFoHVhjqT0KOvv0tS2OwSmqi7lbsgCjH0lo1J1xn5BRO32YYwlj4LVltkQgQeCtUZudt-XG2f-Mk3fcOBMZJ7tp2i6NQh7KI6-8Q7QqUbBSl/s320/Eili+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Eilí</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSxL2OyQGNetJE5HXtDH8I4agMkxshWdHUVGd5AwRvr2N2tDoU4y4JcWCpECGWuIz2u48iDm9iyAcgdrfcgodAeNQXT56XB4xEsJW6FgEvbDXHqs1m7xHxPgriAGJo5SsUJOqpYv_FIt_/s1600/Eili+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSxL2OyQGNetJE5HXtDH8I4agMkxshWdHUVGd5AwRvr2N2tDoU4y4JcWCpECGWuIz2u48iDm9iyAcgdrfcgodAeNQXT56XB4xEsJW6FgEvbDXHqs1m7xHxPgriAGJo5SsUJOqpYv_FIt_/s320/Eili+10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Daddy and Eilí</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBVZOExzAO4KVW22UiEXCubouzNqAKp6gM8a8nB9nIjN1mG4wLHREf1T_fO5-RA_cj9lGf_SG2HSn_hbUHbyG38vLL4Si0c5vt49AZKwyKoIBL0pWfhzCYIjQaji-7TjwW7TdND00D54l/s1600/Eili+15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBVZOExzAO4KVW22UiEXCubouzNqAKp6gM8a8nB9nIjN1mG4wLHREf1T_fO5-RA_cj9lGf_SG2HSn_hbUHbyG38vLL4Si0c5vt49AZKwyKoIBL0pWfhzCYIjQaji-7TjwW7TdND00D54l/s320/Eili+15.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Eilí held by her aunt Samantha</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDMFRpXHpmMwCG7lgJJE3dun1SSCHDOonh3Sk8S7bxn7NCpZIMlk2Y5eahL2xXq3yEAJ0TsAaBdTg7BsJqd6AMDxZ0CO-yqy4dq8pOQxVMq19BnsVELJ_17I0xgTbgA4rEh_tBu3S_N88/s1600/Eili+16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDMFRpXHpmMwCG7lgJJE3dun1SSCHDOonh3Sk8S7bxn7NCpZIMlk2Y5eahL2xXq3yEAJ0TsAaBdTg7BsJqd6AMDxZ0CO-yqy4dq8pOQxVMq19BnsVELJ_17I0xgTbgA4rEh_tBu3S_N88/s320/Eili+16.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My first time to hold Eilí</div>
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Mairéad and aunt Samantha holding Eilí</div>
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thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-35078733844645914952013-05-08T21:09:00.003-07:002015-04-14T10:53:33.073-07:00Spring Update <br />
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We moved into our new apartment the first of April (and
therefore, have lived there approximately 1 month now). It is really great to
have our own space, with our own things, together as a family at last! Mike and
I were married an entire year (and 2 weeks) when we finally got the news we
could move in. Mairéad has her own room, which she loves, and says she won’t
mind sharing with the new baby (which, funnily enough, she has not gender preference
on, unlike her mother <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>
, she simply wants a “baby”, with whom to read to and teach things to, isn’t
that too cute?!) <br />
<br />
I, on the other hand, am so conflicted about finding out the baby’s gender at
the end of the month (May 31<sup>st, </sup> when I’ll be 24 weeks along), because I know
one way I’ll be very disappointed and all my dreams and hopes will be dashed.
On the other hand, if we found out then maybe that would give me time to adjust
to the news? Maybe, maybe not. My feeling is that I’ll love the baby when I
meet them and the gender will matter less (at least I hope it would) after they
are born. I’ve been trying to get Mike to agree with me to not find out the
gender (since for one thing, we’ll get better, more useful gifts if clothing is
off the table. And because by 24 weeks, we’ll only have 15 weeks left (at the
most) before the baby arrives). <br />
<br />
I am sure some people think I’m being silly about the gender thing, but it may
break my heart if Mairéad doesn’t have a sister close to her age. If not this
time, she’ll never have a sister to be friends with, they will be far too far
apart in age to be friends***. This is the only chance to have two little girls
who are close enough in age to perhaps be friends and have things in common. I
speak from experience, it was hard praying for years and years as a child
myself for a sister. I anticipated someone to play with, someone who would talk
to me and have games, etc. Well by the time I got a sister I was almost 7.5
years old, and by the time Samantha was the age to play with, I was the age
that didn’t play like she did anymore. Now at 25 and 18 we are starting to get
along an have more interests in common, but we could have been so much closer
so much sooner if we’d been born closer in age. A son would be fine next time,
as long as this one is a girl. I don’t know how to parent a boy, but after two
kids I’m sure I could handle all the boy energy, ha ha! I know sisters and
brothers can have a bond, but it wouldn’t be like having a sister. I guess I’m projecting
all my childhood hopes of having a twin sister on Mairéad, and she’ll probably
be happy either way, but this irrational desire for another daughter will not
cease. I’ve dreamed of two daughters (close in age as I could manage), for my
whole life. I hope you can sympathize
and understand where my hopes and fears in this respect come from at least. <o:p></o:p></div>
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***(Considering it took us 21 months to get pregnant this
time, and it won’t be easier the next time, plus the 9 months gestation, that
means of we tried to have another baby right after this one, and we were
blessed to have the same time-line, the next one would be here in 2.5 years,
and Mairéad would be at least 5 and a half years old before the next one came
along, and even then, it may not be a girl). <o:p></o:p></div>
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Pregnancy So Far.. At 20 weeks <o:p></o:p><br />
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I love being pregnant, it is so much better now that I can
feel the baby move sometimes. (The nerve damage from the Caesarean Section
inhibits me from feeling some movement, but I’m sure once the baby is bigger, I’ll
feel them all the time!) This pregnancy has been different from the last one
with Mairéad in a number of ways; this time I wasn’t certain of feeling
movement until 18 weeks, whereas with Mairéad I was certain at 13 weeks. <br />
<br />
With Mairéad I was so bonded the instant I knew I was pregnant, and this one
seems surreal and disconnected. It may be because I haven’t felt as much movement,
I hope I bond with this baby as much as when I was pregnant with Mairéad. It
might also be that I don’t have the time this time to think about this baby
like I did with Mairéad (I spent hours a day thinking of her). <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With Mairéad I knew she was a girl from conception, and
somehow Mike knew too. We just knew she was a girl, and in my mind, there was
no other option, she *had* to be a girl, ha ha! This baby we do not know, and
we couldn’t even guess it! My first pregnancy was easy, and the only drawbacks
were in the third trimester, my back hurt and my legs swelled (a lot). This
time by the second trimester I’ve been hurting, and it isn’t getting better. So
much pressure! But I am happy, I know I prayed fervently for years for this
baby, so I have no right to complain at all. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With Mairéad I dreaded her birth, not because of the typical
reasons, I wasn’t afraid of the pain I was so sad that she wouldn’t be with me
constantly anymore. I knew I’d miss her little kicks and punches, I’d miss her
hiccups and I knew she’d never be with me like that ever again. It depressed
the heck out of me to have her separate from me and that is why I dreaded her
birth. This time I know a little more of what to expect. I will hate that part
of the birth, but I’ll probably like meeting this one more than I liked it with
Mairéad. With her it was like meeting someone I’d never met and losing the
child I’d bonded with for 9 months. It was hard for me to love her at first, it
took me a little while to re-bond with her. She wasn’t what I expected
(whatever that may have been). This time I sort of am maybe distancing myself
from bonding with this baby, maybe subconsciously, because it would be sad to
have to fall in love with this one after they were born because they were
different than I expected and had learned to love in the womb. I am betting it
won’t happen like that twice though, because I know more what to expect this
time around. Pluse I look forward so much to Mairéad meeting this sibling and watching
them love each other and interact. I look forward to their bonding, and that
only will truly come after the baby arrives. So I guess I don’t “dread” this
birth (yet, lol), I actually look forward to it in its own due time <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>. <o:p></o:p></div>
thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-14894797911129472462013-03-14T22:18:00.001-07:002013-03-14T22:18:28.310-07:00Our Second Conception Story<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
01/16/2013<br />
<br />
We had our first child, Mairéad, in 2010. She was conceived at the end of 2009
and was a surprise. We had not been "trying" but we hadn't used any
protection for about a year and a half. She was a healthy baby, full term, 9lbs
1oz!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The second time around we started trying to conceive when Mairéad
was around 9 months old (that was April
2011). I got off birth control, and didn't know what else I needed to do. By
October I went to the doctor for my annual but also to get advice about our
apparent infertility and she suggested that I chart my basal body temperature.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had done that for a YEAR (I didn't have the money or
insurance that would cover our fertility testing) and then went in for my
annual and talked more about my<i> still</i>
not getting pregnant. She offered to put me on Clomid because my charts were
not showing regular ovulation monthly. Now here we are 4 round of Clomid in and
voila! Finally, after nearly two years (21 months) of trying we have succeeded!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p><b>Trying-to-Conceive Experience</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every month I wasn't pregnant I felt worse. I felt like a failure, and I was
very upset. Especially the months where I was a day or two "late",
the hopes would build and be crushed. I was about at the point of giving up, it
felt hopeless to hope, and depressing to dream about having more children. I
felt really alone too, my friends never had problems (at least the vast
majority never did). It was agony seeing my friends have children with ease,
with barely a year gap. It has been my dream to have children close (less than
a year to under 2 years apart) in age and the longer our unexplained
infertility stretched the worse and I would be so upset and jealous. It really
made me angry when my pregnant friends would complain about being pregnant. I
was sitting there thinking how much I wanted to be pregnant, and how much I would
love to be experiencing morning sickness if only we could achieve another
pregnancy! Mike would just say "It'll happen when it is supposed to
happen" which wasn't what I wanted to hear. I wanted him to be sad too,
maybe he was, but he hid it if that was so.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Charting Experience</b><br />
I charted 17 cycles, and it has helped me a lot knowing my average cycle
length. I disciplined myself to not take pregnancy tests until after I was
certain it was at least 2 days longer than average, which saved me money and
heartbreak from negative pregnancy tests. Once I started Clomid I did have to
use a pregnancy test every month before I took my pills, and finally after my
fourth round of taking Clomid my pregnancy test was positive! It showed up
immediately even though I had only been 5 days “late”. I went to the doctor’s
office on that Friday (the 18<sup>th</sup> of January) for a clinical test and
they agreed I was <i>finally</i> pregnant! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although I charted all that time, I am not sure my charts
were always accurate, which is my fault for not taking my temperature at the
same time every day, and sometimes forgetting altogether (but no more than once
a week did I forget). It made it very hard to find when I ovulated with any
accuracy, and when I finally conceived, it showed that I'd ovulated much
earlier than I had been thinking it normally was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 125%;">
<b>Telling the Husband<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 125%;">
I took my last pregnancy
test on January 18, 2013 in the morning, it was a Wednesday. I took the test
then because I was a few days late and my mom wanted to know if I was pregnant
before she went into surgery the next morning. It came up positive within 20
seconds, so I didn’t have to even wait the two minutes it says to wait! It was
agony to have to wait until Friday to tell Mike, but I didn’t want to tell him
between work and class, or at some other point where it wouldn’t have time to
really sink in. I wanted to be alone and have hours together to talk about it. So
I was waiting until after Mike’s show on Friday night. Let me tell you, those
few days were the longest of my life! And the last few hours dragged on to
days! I couldn’t wait to tell him, but the closer it got to our alone time, the
more nervous and less excited I became. What if he wasn’t happy? What if he
reacted in a negative way? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 125%;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlmLNiT6UahGrMYmcvRZe4gaRruezdD1B66QOmlnQZavvkLS4BLy6BQ9cemdQkYrSDdvVmfUoP6bhyphenhyphenrJ8qFRK6gdm4dSkAwcEEWty8uwMplzjqfWz6v8Ihlym94Y1U7mfFXZloAaEt2F8/s1600/2013-01-16+22.07.07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlmLNiT6UahGrMYmcvRZe4gaRruezdD1B66QOmlnQZavvkLS4BLy6BQ9cemdQkYrSDdvVmfUoP6bhyphenhyphenrJ8qFRK6gdm4dSkAwcEEWty8uwMplzjqfWz6v8Ihlym94Y1U7mfFXZloAaEt2F8/s320/2013-01-16+22.07.07.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 125%;">
Well we went to get food
after his show, and I was too nervous to get anything. My stomach was tied in
knots and I felt nauseous. Back at his house (we still don’t have a place
together, we live with our respective mothers until we can afford to live
together) I waited for him to finish eating. And it seemed to take an unusually
long time! After Mike was finished eating, I got a small package out of my
purse. I’d used an old jewelry box to put the pregnancy test in and I’d made a “coupon”
that was redeemable for one infant at the end of September. Mike opened it, and
sat there in silence. He must have
reread that coupon dozens of times, eventually he awakened from his utter
disbelief and asked me if I was serious. I told him I was, and that I had gone
to the Women’s Medical Center that morning and confirmed it. He sat in silence
some more and asked me when we would know for sure. I laughed and told him we already
did know! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 125%;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4EefXRq3bkHwCFDpkNaeTUEqr1bJ5o0sB0DJo9wvUPc_QOgjwls3GNeYyBd5mjPEM9mhoAzfhkHcgA0r1JweLGG-pJW9qNy4yzYSoh9Z0lVy9w9ZEk04Lo_8NUVFUGKRqFDdoLJCUbEf/s1600/2013-01-16+09.45.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4EefXRq3bkHwCFDpkNaeTUEqr1bJ5o0sB0DJo9wvUPc_QOgjwls3GNeYyBd5mjPEM9mhoAzfhkHcgA0r1JweLGG-pJW9qNy4yzYSoh9Z0lVy9w9ZEk04Lo_8NUVFUGKRqFDdoLJCUbEf/s320/2013-01-16+09.45.05.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 125%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="line-height: 125%;">He insisted that we wait
to tell anyone until I was at least 12 or 13 weeks along, so in the case of a miscarriage
we wouldn’t have to tell everyone about it. So as I am writing this now, I’m
only 4 weeks and 6 days, so we have 7 or 8 weeks to go before I post this </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">publicly</span><span style="line-height: 125%;">. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 125%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Conclusion</b><br />
I know it is impossibly difficult to see all of your healthy friends get
pregnant with one baby after the other when you are struggling so hard to get
pregnant. It was hard to see them complain about being pregnant when all I
wanted to do was *be* pregnant! They took it for granted when I would have
loved to have morning sickness! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you have tried and tried to get pregnant and have felt
the heartbreak I have I want you to know you aren't the only one who has had
trouble, and with luck and faith, you will get pregnant too! I have a friend
who was 45 when she got pregnant with her son, she and her husband had given up
all hope, and she was blessed with her son after years and years of trying and
heartbreak. It can happen, just try to relax (and I know I never could) and
keep trying! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br />
02/25/2013<br /><br />One of the major things I was concerned about before I began publicly announcing this baby was my friends who I knew were actively trying to conceive (some their first child and others their second). I felt I had to tell them first, before even some of my family knew, because I knew how I would feel considering how long we had been trying to conceive. (By the way 2 of my friends that I felt needed to know first had both miscarried at least once, and I felt it would be cruel and unthoughtful to announce my pregnancy without them being notified first) So the opportunity to tell my friend Dana came one day at church, we were just talking and I told her how much I liked her skirt, which she then told me was "roomy" and told me she was 7 weeks along. I told her, "Me too! I am 7 weeks also!" so that was incredibly awesome and perfect! We both were getting the baby we had hoped for, and better yet only days apart!<br /><br />The next friend I needed to tell I was saved from telling because she announced it on Facebook before I could see her in person. She'd had at least one miscarriage I knew of, and I had felt it was important to tell her so she wouldn't feel blind-sided.<br /><br />The third friend I told (Candace) we had tried and tried to take to lunch or dinner, but we both were so busy it never worked out! Finally when I was 10 weeks along she called me and told me she was expecting over the phone, and that she wanted to let me know before she went public with it for the same reasons I wanted to tell her too! And it turned out, she too was 10 weeks along and we are due within days of each other! That makes 2 of my friends that will be having mid/later month September babies! How awesome is that?!<br /><br />God really has awesome timing, and it will be incredibly fun to have friends who are at the same stages (exactly) as I am throughout our entire pregnancies! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqj_a1SNqP1_WFB__sxp9fM2Qgp3ehrorCHu9fn3aRTjC_gn2DzG-jW7NdwAH1gxihvig3btgGHDQZwcxKxEEd5g7L-sQXsLSBS9xUGisKiZQNEIknr8BsFEn3GY9wNJKpU101oQxnSew/s1600/Ultrasound+at+11+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqj_a1SNqP1_WFB__sxp9fM2Qgp3ehrorCHu9fn3aRTjC_gn2DzG-jW7NdwAH1gxihvig3btgGHDQZwcxKxEEd5g7L-sQXsLSBS9xUGisKiZQNEIknr8BsFEn3GY9wNJKpU101oQxnSew/s320/Ultrasound+at+11+weeks.jpg" width="193" /></a><br />03/01/2013<br /><br />We had our first ultrasound and it was great! Baby has a heart rate of 165 and was exactly 11 weeks along (which moved my due date three days, but according to my BBT charts, exactly 11 weeks was precisely when I ovulated anyway, I could have told them, lol!) Here is a picture of the ultrasound:<br /><br /><br />03/13/2013<br /><br />We had our first family pictures of just me, Mairéad and Mike last Friday morning, courtesy of my friend Heather. I had told here that we were intending to surprise Mairéad the news and try to capture the reaction she had that she was going to be a big sister. She'd been talking about babies, and even had told me how she would take care of one (smelling its diaper, singing to them, teaching them how to run, lol) and she had mentioned a few times how she wanted a baby. So I was hoping for a big reaction (like I'd seen with kids' pictures on Pinterest). Well she kind of just stood there, ha ha! We took a video of it though, so we do have her actual reaction documented. She did eventually ask us what the picture (ultrasound) was of. And where the baby's eyes were ;) And finally we asked her if she wanted a brother or a sister, and she replied, "Just a baby!", which we laughed and assured her she would be getting! And since then I had asked her what she wants for her birthday, and she told me, "A baby!" and I told her the baby would come after her birthday and after the fair.<br />
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thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-24527467009137098382012-04-28T20:14:00.001-07:002012-04-28T20:14:16.161-07:00The Hardest Thing To Do Is WaitSo this is a blog a long time coming, and here it goes. I haven't told more than a handful of my friends, and so basically only family knows. Mike and I have been trying to get pregnant for a year now, and in January I found out why it wasn't happening as easy as I thought is should. My doctor told me that I have problems with ovulation (as seen by me taking my own basal body temperature*), as in I kind of don't ovulate. At least not normally, and in the past 6 months, my charts have made it evident that I perhaps have only ovulated 2 times, once in November and once just last month. <br /><br />This is really, really hard for me. I have been more than desperate to have another baby since Mairead was 9 months old. It has always been my dream to have two little girls under two years apart, and I have three friends who all have been blessed with *exactly* that. It kills me every time I see them living my dream. I know people say that often siblings hate being so close in age to one another, but I look at the bonds twins have and I must say that it doesn't have to be that way. When I was a child all I wanted was a twin, and I still wish I had one. Someone who was a friend when you had no other. I didn't have my little sister until I was already 7.5, and that sucks. It isn't fun being an 8-year-old and having a little baby around, they are not fun, they can't talk or play or be on your same level at all. I never wanted that for my kids, I wanted them to have siblings under two years younger, to be like having a twin. I don't want them to have to wait until they are adults to get along and have things in common!<br /><br />People keep telling me ignorant things like "be patient" or "it'll happen when it is supposed to happen" or the worst one "at least you have a baby now", which is precisely the reason I want another one NOW! I don't want words that mean nothing, I want a baby! I hate that I cannot do anything to fix this, save for spend money we don't have on fertility drugs and testing. We are stuck. Mike doesn't feel the extreme need I have to get pregnant, like, yesterday, he has a more "it'll happen when it is supposed to" outlook, which drives me nuts sometimes because it hurts me so much to wait while it seems not to bother him. It isn't like we aren't actively trying, but even with perfect timing the chances of a healthy woman conceiving is only 20% per month. We have so little of a chance, Mairead really was a blessing and a miracle. It still breaks my heart every time month when I am not pregnant, even with the charts telling me that I couldn't have conceived I still have hope in vain that we'll have a miracle again. And then I cry myself to sleep for nights on end until it is time to try again.<br />
<br />
If you are the praying sort, I would ask you if you might pray that we get pregnant and soon, before I give up hope, because this is the hardest thing I've ever had to wait for.<br /><br />*for those of you who don't know, that is taking your temperature every morning first thing, and charting it to see when your temperature rises. When it has risen and stays risen it means you have ovulated. You're supposed to do this for a few months to see your own pattern and then you can sort of plot when to try to get pregnant. If your temperature doesn't rise, or goes up and down, that means that you didn't ovulate that month.thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-75646682695742481292011-12-12T20:07:00.000-08:002011-12-12T20:26:25.280-08:00Update on Mairead at 17 months old<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ706y8vTKuOKzRjf9X9_u0YhtFz8yQnMG9HItENAv28_i_mGd4J3WN_bo9NZa_0-wJ2oHsDaKrUz53m9aGlGXBzbgGSt1OREgpx40zy3FWDmIYWIvP2yTx8NQJ-95duj5qapIlv2MfbqI/s1600/IMG_1446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ706y8vTKuOKzRjf9X9_u0YhtFz8yQnMG9HItENAv28_i_mGd4J3WN_bo9NZa_0-wJ2oHsDaKrUz53m9aGlGXBzbgGSt1OREgpx40zy3FWDmIYWIvP2yTx8NQJ-95duj5qapIlv2MfbqI/s320/IMG_1446.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
Words Mairéad can say at 17 months old
<br />
1. “Mama”/”Mommy”
<br />
2. “Dada”/”Daddy”
<br />
3. “bye bye” and closes her hand like she is waving
<br />
4. “cat” <br />
5. “Sasha” <br />
6. “Sassy”
<br />
7. “baby” <br />
8. “ah-oh” <br />
9. “Aunt Samantha”(An Tan-ta) <br />
10. “What’s that?”
<br />
11. “pretty” <br />
12. “duck” <br />
<br />
****She said the above at 12 months and has added the following since***
<br />
13. “quack”
<br />
14. “ball”
<br />
15. “moo” (for cows)
<br />
16. “bunny”
<br />
17. “goody”
<br />
18. “birdy”
<br />
19. “knee”
<br />
20. “mouth”
<br />
21. “nose”
<br />
22. “water”
<br />
23. “belly” <br />
24. “banana” (nana)
<br />
25. “cracker”
<br />
26. “cookie”
<br />
27. “door”
<br />
28. “Where’s ____?”
<br />
29. “It’s a ____”
<br />
30. “rooster”
<br />
31. “toe”
<br />
32. “noodle” (nu-no)
<br />
33. “go”
<br />
34. “car”
<br />
35. “baa” (for sheep)
<br />
36. “neigh” (for horses)
<br />
37. “ladybug” (buh)
<br />
38. “girl”
<br />
39. “puppy”
<br />
40. “dog”
<br />
41. “blue”
<br />
42. “turtle”
<br />
43. “whale”
<br />
44. “crab”
<br />
45. “cold”
<br />
46. “roar” (when she sees lions, tigers or other big cats and bears)
<br />
47. *hiss* (for snakes)
<br />
48. “bubble”
<br />
49. *mmm* <br />
50. “I don’t know” and she shrugs and lifts her hands up to her shoulders palms up
<br />
51. “dance” (da) <br />
52. “money”
<br />
53. “nuts” (nuh)
<br />
54. “shoe”
<br />
55. “bear”
<br />
56. “here you go”
<br />
57. “Barbie doll”
<br />
58. “Barney”
<br />
59. “down”
<br />
60. “door”
<br />
61. “yeah”
<br />
62. “no”
<br />
63. “mermaid”
<br />
64. “boo” <br />
65. “I did it”
<br />
66. “yay!”
<br />
67. “bee”
<br />
68. “eye”
<br />
69. “hair”
<br />
70. “leg”
<br />
71. “foot” <br />
72. “ear”
<br />
73. “arm”
<br />
74. “floor”
<br />
75. “hungry”
<br />
76. “thirsty”
<br />
77. “soft”
<br />
78. “milk”
<br />
79. “tiger”
<br />
80. “horse”
<br />
81. “frog”
<br />
82. “outside”
<br />
83. “more”
<br />
84. “cereal”
<br />
85. “Elmo”
<br />
86. “toy”
<br />
87. “potatoes”
<br />
88. “cheese”
<br />
89. “birthday”
<br />
90. “sock”
<br />
91. “I love you” (IU)
<br />
92. “hmm”
<br />
93. “booger”
<br />
94. “kitty”
<br />
95. “Po”
<br />
96. “paper”
<br />
97. “dark”
<br />
98. “awesome”
<br />
99. “coming”
<br />
100. “animal”
<br />
101. “Gramma”
<br />
102. “broccoli”
<br />
103. “glasses”
<br />
104. “hotdog”
<br />
105. “cell phone”
<br />
106. “pants”
<br />
107. “tabby” <br />
108. “hat”
<br />
109. “happy”
<br />
110. “cherry”
<br />
111. “meow”
<br />
112. “hammer”
<br />
113. “clippy”
<br />
114. “gold” <br />
115. “chair”
<br />
116. “purple”
<br />
117. “hole” <br />
118. “ham”
<br />
119. “cuppy”
<br />
120. “green bean”
<br />
121. “lizard”
<br />
122. “windy”
<br />
123. “so”
<br />
124. “very”
<br />
125. “sleepy/sleeping”
<br />
126. “peas”
<br />
127. “pee”
<br />
128. “poo”
<br />
129. “potty”
<br />
130. “what?”
<br />
131. “flower”
<br />
132. “color”
<br />
133. “scary”
<br />
134. “fairy”
<br />
135. “pizza” <br />
136. “ice cube”
<br />
137. “flash light”
<br />
138. “yummy”
<br />
139. “get me”
<br />
140. “getcha”
<br />
141. “get you”
<br />
142. “tissue”
<br />
143. “fuzzy”
<br />
144. “deer”
<br />
145. “pig”
<br />
146. “going”
<br />
147. “oh no”
<br />
148. “hi”
<br />
149. “hair”
<br />
150. “ruff-ruff” (the sound that dogs make)
<br />
151. “owl”
<br />
152. “mouse” <br />
153. “book”
<br />
154. “big”
<br />
155. “spoon”<br />
156. "Oma"<br />
<br />
She also does the following:<br />
Nods “Yes”
<br />
Shakes her head “No” and says it
<br />
She understands “softly” when you want her to be gentle
<br />
She understands “Smack it”
<br />
She understands “High Five”
<br />
She’ll “wash” her face when I ask her to
<br />
She will say whatever I ask her if I ask “Can you say___?”
<br />
She’ll take something to someone if you tell her to show so-and-so
<br />
She will hand me something if I ask “Can I see the ___?”
<br />
She understands me asking her to smile
<br />
She can clap on command
<br />
Hugs when asked <br />
If you ask her “Do you want to come here?” if she does want to she’ll raise her arms to you
<br />
If you ask her to “dance” she will
If you tell her to “wiggle” she shimmies her shoulders and moves her hips
If you request her to “plop” or “flop” while she is on a soft surface (If on a hard surface she won’t do it, smart girl!) she will throw her whole body onto it
<br />
If you say “bonk” (either after she hits herself in the head, or if you want her to) she will tap herself in the head with whatever is nearest.
<br />
If you tell her “ouch” while she hits her head, she will laugh and keep doing it
<br />
She plays “Where’s Mairéad?” (her equivalent to Peek-a-Boo)
<br />
She runs away when you say “I'm going to get you!” (and then she proceeds to say “getchoo” while running away)
<br />
She has comic timing
<br />
She points to or gestures towards things she wants, or to some place she wants me to take her
<br />
She will hand me whatever is in her hand if I ask “Can I see it?” <br />
She can drink from a straw
<br />
She can walk by herself and doesn’t ever fall unless she runs
<br />
She can point when I ask her to point to something (for instance in a book)
<br />
She can find different body parts (ears, eyes, mouth, nose, chin, cheek, hair, hand(s), finger(s), belly, foot, toe(s), leg, arm, butt, knee)
<br />
She knows the difference between "Mommy's nose" and "Mairead's nose" (or other body parts, etc. She understands possession)
<br />
She pretends to burp her baby doll, she feeds her baby doll, pats her baby doll, etc.
<br />
She pretends to eat pretend food (like spooning and “eating” invisible food)
<br />
She understands commands like “pick it up” or “put it back” even if she has to put it away in a whole different room. <br />
She’ll kiss by request (if she knows you and is in the mood)
<br />
Uses spoon and fork.
<br />
<br />
I know that I probably have forgotten many more of the things Mairead can say or do, but you get the idea, she is one smart cookie!
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjedqWf4lY3DL_k_j5cS9Y6y2gwZ8XbBJsvHEy_-KGMH95E_yW1E5k2oRDO5vqJZWk4-8sKSJfbEV81UaamitU1hhffNkiV2lwmIJghtjk1HNNAl4c-ua75hwPJYVqsxj9NIWiVREWx3MeY/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjedqWf4lY3DL_k_j5cS9Y6y2gwZ8XbBJsvHEy_-KGMH95E_yW1E5k2oRDO5vqJZWk4-8sKSJfbEV81UaamitU1hhffNkiV2lwmIJghtjk1HNNAl4c-ua75hwPJYVqsxj9NIWiVREWx3MeY/s320/IMG_1462.JPG" width="260" /></a></div>thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-80100935216371283712011-05-26T20:44:00.000-07:002011-05-26T21:00:04.194-07:00The Best Friend I Never Even HadI’m so stressed out. First of all, Mike lost his job in mid-March and hasn’t even had one interview since. Second, we need to move out on our own as a family BEFORE the wedding, but without a job Mike can’t afford to move. I’ll be getting money when school starts from FAFSA but that is a while off, and I can’t support us on that money. (I CAN support me and Mairéad, but not rent and Mike too)<br /> <br />So those are pressing issues for sure, but what is mainly on my mind is that I lack the friendships to deal with my stress. Yes, I have my mom and I have Mike, but my mom is stressed herself over her own bills and problems, and Mike feels the extreme pressure from all sides, and therefore I can’t really vent to him either. I feel like making new friends is such a huge hurdle to climb. How are you supposed to do it? LOL. I feel like if I randomly ask someone for their number that they’ll think I’m weird or desperate. I feel like asking to “hang out” seems childish, like “do you want to play today?”, and asking someone to lunch would be fabulous, but I lack the funds to be able to. How do adults even start a friendship?!<br /> <br />Not only is it hard to start a friendship, it is even harder to understand how to cultivate it. It seems like an insurmountable obstacle to break into someone’s world. I don’t have many true friendships, and most of those people don’t even live nearby! It seems like all the amazing people I meet that I would love to become better friends with already have their core group of friends. Everyone else seems like they have these little cliques of best friends, people who they can call on in a time of need, but I don’t have that. I don’t have someone to call if I need a shoulder to cry on, and I wish I did. I wish I had friends who needed me and who I could help too. And I can’t imagine how to break into someone’s life and become friends, especially how to become close friends. <br /> <br />By the way, I never have had a “best friend” who considered me theirs too. Having Mairéad didn’t make my friends disappear, they truly never existed to begin with. I do think it is harder now to make non-parent friends because they assume I can’t do anything (I CAN do things, btw, my mom is a very willing babysitter or else Mairéad is portable). I really truly miss having gal-pals to talk to about anything, to complain to, to have fun with, and to be there for. I hate having so many acquaintances who I wish were real friends! Especially I miss having the best friend I never had.thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-19777572719978790282011-03-03T10:14:00.000-08:002011-03-03T13:51:02.812-08:00We're Engaged!Yesterday, March 2nd 2011, Mike asked me to marry him! This is what happened… Mike and I had dropped off Mairéad at my mom’s house to go to bed at about 8:30. He and I went back to his house where we spent time hanging out before I started getting a little sad. Mike asked me if everything was okay, and I told him no. Well then I started crying and he held me and said it was all right and asked me repeatedly what was wrong. I told him that I didn’t want to tell him, and that I would just sound like a broken record. He said “I think I know why you are sad, but I’d like you to tell me,” and I kept sobbing and wouldn’t look at him. He said, “Is it about getting married?” and I nodded. <br /><br />Mike held me for a few more seconds and then said, “I know this is a really bad time but I have to go pee,” and I curled up alone while he left. I didn’t hear him go into the bathroom at all, but I was too busy crying to care. Mike returned shortly and he stood at the end of his bed. He asked me to sit up please, but I was being stubborn and I stayed where I was until he pleaded again. I sat up reluctantly and Mike began a speech. <br /><br />“I love you and Mairéad so much, I love our little family. I am so glad we have what we have. You are so great, I want to thank you for putting up with me all these years. Thank you for waiting so long and being so patient with me. I think I know the answer to this already but,[Mike got down on one knee and revealed a box from behind his back] will you marry me?” I was already cried-out and so instead of the emotional response I thought I would have I just smiled and grabbed his face and said, “You are so wonderful! I love you! Yes, of course I will! [I kissed him over and over] Mike opened the box and revealed my ring, the one I’d found online and I had sent Mike the link in an email with my size (hint hint.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuw6rPS2GuqS57keypfRCTC9L2eThh6aYi_0-opsu0GOnikdgD_uBvm3RVl47WgOjY-rDvww-TKgeMBpmK3XVbLDqozztyo36ho9oKUBDVZds9bwPORe-eoKB38z__8hIAW4pbpZUMOtz/s1600/Engagement+Ring+Bigger.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuw6rPS2GuqS57keypfRCTC9L2eThh6aYi_0-opsu0GOnikdgD_uBvm3RVl47WgOjY-rDvww-TKgeMBpmK3XVbLDqozztyo36ho9oKUBDVZds9bwPORe-eoKB38z__8hIAW4pbpZUMOtz/s320/Engagement+Ring+Bigger.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579974434155580930" /></a><br /> Mike told me to put it on and I asked him to put it on for me, he asked me which way it was meant to be put on, and I told him. (it is a Cladagh ring so the point of the heart is supposed to point to my heart if I am taken) Then I said, “Are you absolutely sure?” Mike said, “yes” I asked him again, “Are you sure? Really sure?” and Mike said, “Yes I am totally sure,” <br /><br />I hugged and kissed Mike and he had tears in his eyes I think. I was so excited! I pulled Mike toward me and kissed him some more and we held each other. I asked him when he had bought the ring. He told me he bought it sometime last week and had paid extra to rush ship it in two-three days but it hadn’t gotten here. He said that this past week when he had been “working late” or “at the library looking up lyrics” he had actually been trying to talk to the dealers about where the ring was/purchasing the ring. I was surprised by that, I had not caught on, although I did notice he was going to the library a lot. I really didn’t think he was going to bite the bullet and propose! I had doubted that he’d save for my ring and I was so shocked that he had. <br /><br />I asked Mike why he decided to propose then opposed to at a more romantic moment, and he told me that he couldn’t wait any more, even though he had only had the ring for about two days. I asked him about if he had planned how to pop the question in a different way, and he said he had not really had a plan but that he had planned to do it on St. Patrick’s Day (two days after our anniversary). I told him that I may have been really upset if he had waited to propose until after our three-year-anniversary because I would have been expecting it on that day. I told him it might have worked though, because I would have been caught completely off guard and I probably wouldn’t have “talked to him about my disappointment” until the following weekend. <br /><br />Mike told me that he had told his mom and his coworkers and even a lady at the bank (who he said didn’t seem happy at all and reacted like he’d told her that he had just had a ham sandwich) and he had even told my Mom! I was shocked that I hadn’t heard anything from her about it.<br /><br />Mike told me that I wasn’t his girlfriend anymore, that now I am his fiancée and I kissed him and hugged him and squealed in delight. I told him how very excited I am over and over again. I am super excited that now I can start planning a wedding and not feel guilty looking at wedding dresses! Mike took me home about 10:30 because I wanted to get to bed. When we got to my door Mike kissed me and reminded me that I was his “fiancée” now, he sounded proud. We hugged and kissed many times before we parted. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was very fitting that we got engaged on the 2nd of March because Mike and I “met” three years ago on March 1st at a Star Wars Movie Marathon, and he walked me home on the 2nd. <br /><br />I didn’t know how to break the news to Facebook (Well why does that even matter? Because my friends probably wouldn’t hear it from me otherwise for a while) and I was nervous to say anything. It still seems like a dream, very surreal. But I said “I FINALLY have an announcement to make... Mike and I are engaged! We did everything a tad bit backwards, but that is our love story. We are incredibly blessed!” I wanted to exaggerate the “finally” part because I have so many friends who got engaged after 6 months or less and they said “finally”, but honey, if you had a kid, and waited almost 8 long months after having a child with someone and you have wanted to marry this person for since you had been dating 6 months, then and ONLY then, can you say “finally”! ^_^<br /><br />On a side note, I was disappointed that my depression brought on the proposal sooner. I had hoped for a big extravagant surprise proposal, and I didn’t get that. I always said that I didn’t care if Mike did it with or without a ring, or if he made it romantic and special or at home cuddled together. Maybe I did care, but Mike told me “maybe we did things backwards, maybe this isn’t a romantic event, but it is us, and it is out love story…” and I LOVE our love story!thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189531365181583907.post-58858835784953072172010-07-14T18:06:00.000-07:002010-07-14T18:07:58.089-07:00The Week Before My First Child ArrivedMy world has changed significantly since I last wrote anything. To begin with chronologically, I did ask for a C-Section, and the doctor wanted to make sure I really thought about it and knew what I was getting into. He told me to think over the week and tell him my choice on Friday (I had to do another blood test and 24 hour urine test) which wasn’t quite a week between the two consecutive appointments.<br /><br />I was adamant about the C-Section and the doctor didn’t argue, and Mike and I got to schedule it. Reasons for a C-Section were: I have Group B Streptococcus, and the risks of my daughter getting it when I was in labor wasn’t worth it to me even with the use of steroids (a C-Section all but eliminates the risk of infecting a baby). A C-Section also works for me because I could schedule it, and not be totally caught off guard by labor, which honestly terrified me. Another general reason I wanted a C-Section was because I just felt like it was the right thing to do, I felt at peace with the idea and I felt like for some reason a Caesarean Section would benefit my daughter for some reason (like if she had the cord around her neck and the doctors didn’t know it, or if she shifted to breach and they didn’t catch it in time, or if she weighed much more than I could handle delivering naturally, etc). And to me a C-Section wouldn’t make me less of a mother just because I didn’t labor for hours, and also I figured it would hurt more if anything than regular labor, yet it was the choice I preferred for years. I didn’t mind the pain for longer and I didn’t mind the risks, because the benefits of it far outweighed the risks in my eyes. A shallow minor reason I am going to admit to also is that my baby wouldn’t be all swollen, bruised and cone-headed if I had a C-Section and I figured that it would be nicer on the baby to not have to be squeezed in the birth canal for x amount of hours. Lastly I thought that I might avoid incontinence whether that would be permanent or temporary.<br /><br />We had to schedule it in the larger building and we had to wait for a long time, but I felt confident about my decision and wasn’t scared to have my first major surgery. The part that did scare me was the IV! I also knew that there was a good chance that since there was no medical necessity in the doctor’s eyes to do a C-Section, that my insurance probably wouldn’t cover the surgery, and I still wanted it nonetheless. In fact, I still don’t know if my insurance will cover my elective C-Section. I also felt in my heart that it was the absolute right choice for us and that there would be some reason in the end that would justify my yearning for a surgical delivery. I was scheduled for Friday July 9th, 2010 for my daughter’s birthday. I was more nervous that I’d go into labor in the following week and not get to receive my C-Section than of the actual operation. In fact, I prayed more than daily that I wouldn’t go into labor until Friday morning if I had to labor at all. And no, in fact it wasn’t the fear of pain that worried me, like I mentioned before, I felt like a surgical delivery would hurt more and for a longer period of time. And my elective Caesarean wasn’t to prevent getting too big, or to prevent stretch marks (which, by the way, I have about a million of and I look like a zebra, but oh well! At least they’ll fade away eventually!) it wasn’t really a choice I made for shallow reasons, and I was (and still am) very pleased with my decision. <br /><br />Well the week before my C-Section was grueling, I was so stressed and nervous that I’d go into labor. The 4th of July was on Sunday and I worried that the fireworks would set of labor somehow (and they didn’t, but I was still scared that they might). It was a wonderful 4th spent with Mike and my sister at Greenacres Park where we watched Smoke on the Water together. The show started exactly an hour late and was only 15 minutes long. Not exactly worth going to, but we’d wanted to. Samantha at least got the memory of going with us. <br /><br />The Thursday before the operation was Mike’s 22nd birthday. We went out to eat at Furr’s Cafeteria with my mom and sister to celebrate both of their birthdays at once (my mom’s birthday was the 12th of July and we’ve all celebrated both together since Mike and I got together over two years ago, this is the third joint birthday celebration). It was nice, and it felt sort of like my “last meal” because I didn’t know when I’d get to go out to lunch or dinner again after the baby arrived. <br /><br />The reason I was so terrified, was that my due date was that Saturday, the very next day after my scheduled C-Section so it was too close for comfort. I could’ve gone into labor at any moment, but my mom insisted that all of her children were breach and at least two weeks late and that it would probably we much the same for me.thecrazycatlady12http://www.blogger.com/profile/05212181897926582643noreply@blogger.com0