Let’s try this again.

Today, I’m trying to get back on track doing the things that make me happy. Blogging is one of those things. Singing’s another. And truth be told, I am really missing the gym, even though right now I can’t walk for more than 20 minutes without being in pain. (What can I say? 3rd trimester is no joke.)

I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time surfing Facebook and sleeping. I’ve come to recognize that when my day looks like, “Wake up, eat breakfast, check emails, surf FB, eat lunch, surf FB, nap, do some laundry, eat dinner, watch some TV (often while also surfing FB), go to bed.” that I’m doing it wrong.

That’s not to say that by sitting here and writing a blog entry that I’m breaking out of the “sit on the couch on the computer” habit very quickly — but every moment I spend doing something productive, as opposed to reading about strangers problems cloth diapering or raising their children is a moment that I feel like I’ve earned back.

That being said, I’m grateful for the truly staggering amount of knowledge I’ve gained in the last month or two about how to deal with cloth diapers and fussy babies. I have no doubt that the time I spent reading will be helpful, even if I don’t have a book to show someone.

Truth be told, that kinda pisses me off. At least when you read a published parenting book, you can be like, “I read parenting books.”  It’s like getting a gold star for having done your homework or something. Instead, every day, I’ve been reading countless posts by frustrated parents who can’t get their diapers properly clean or whose kids are having what they consider to be behavioral problems and the responses that helpful members of the parenting community have given them.

Of course, there were parents in these communities who I’ve very badly wanted to smack.

No, random gentleman, wearing a princess costume is not going to “turn your son gay” — and if your 2 year old son happens to grow up to be gay,  you should accept that and love him anyway for who he is. You don’t get to publicly be mad at your wife for letting him get into his sister’s toy chest without people thinking you’re an idiot. She didn’t do anything wrong. I hope his sister got into her little brother’s toys too and is happily exploring the wonderful world of Bob the Builder. I promise that being proficient with tools will not make her crave vag.

To the paleo-crossfit-full-time-career-control-freak moms (who I definitely would have become without seizures): One of your kid’s classmates is going to bring shitty snacks to some event. Probably more than one. Odds are, at school or daycare, your kid will eat something with grains and refined sugar or high fructose corn syrup. I assure you, they will survive, and you really don’t need to take the time to write a strongly worded letter to the mother of the offending classmate.  One afternoon with Goldfish crackers and apple juice isn’t going to ruin your child for life. Ain’t nobody got time for the drama that letter would create. Go lift and release that stress.  There are bigger fish to fry in natural, non-hydrogenated oils.

And every one of you parents out there who is actively complaining about feeling “poor” when you make more than $250K/year and own a house – or those of you who are frustrated and feel entitled to loudly complain and dock pay when your nanny can’t come in to work after a 20 inch snowfall when many of the streets haven’t been plowed and the windchill factor is below -30 – all y’all can seriously just go cry in the corner.  Join the parents who are publicly bemoaning the schools being closed and would rather their kids stand outside, waiting for the bus, in temperatures that cause frostbite in less than a minute.  None of y’all have my sympathy. Not one. Not even kinda.

Fortunately, more often than not, parents have valid (often interesting) questions, and are not assholes to each other. It is awesome to participate in communities of people who are willing to offer words of wisdom or actual assistance when someone needs it.

A Month? Really?

It’s hard to believe it’s been 4 weeks since my last post here. It doesn’t feel that long.

I’m not sure why, but somewhere along the way, I started to think that I should only write here when I have something meaningful to say and not just whenever I felt like writing. I’ve decided that way of thinking is crap, if for no other reason than it means that I unnecessarily self-censor and therefore do not end up entertaining myself or you by writing.

There was a week in there when I was working on an entry, but I seriously depressed myself writing it.  It was going to be 20 Ways You’re *Actually* Doing Better Than You Think You Are – which was an answer to a similarly named entry on ThoughtCatalog that primarily focused on earning enough money to be comfortable, and thus had a needless slant against disabled people. (I say this because 6 of the 20 things focused on earning/having money.)

Instead of focusing on money, I focused on things like being alive, not being trapped by human trafficking, not being in jail, being able to read, and living somewhere where you are not persecuted for your race, gender, or religion (all discussions of privilege or nationalism aside).

If I’d kept it on the shiny, happy side, y’all would have definitely seen it, and it would have stayed short — but that’s not the way my brain works. (Stupid brain!) Each one of those “good things” ended up with its own short exposé about how shitty other people have it and what you can do to help.  After “working to bring  awareness” of so much awfulness that exists in this world that I really cannot affect in any meaningful way, I managed to depress myself pretty thoroughly. Fortunately, I’m carrying a happy thought inside me.

Less than 10 weeks til I’m a Mommy.

According to the calendar, we’ve got fewer than 70 days to go. I can’t believe that Adam and I have only 2 months left of being irresponsible. fancy-free adults a 2 person family.

The fact that our lives are about to be permanently changed is kind of a mindfuck. I don’t think it’s actually possible to be prepared for it… but at least we have the crib built, even if we don’t have the hospital bag packed yet. (I keep meaning to do it, but keep putting it off for God-only-knows-why.)

There is one thing that I did today that both made me very happy and very weepy, as I tried to sing along. I created a playlist of songs that I want to sing to him on YouTube.

 

Here are the tracks:

Heaven – Bryan Adams
Beautiful Boy – John Lennon
Here Comes The Sun – Beatles
Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel) – Billy Joel
Sweet Child O Mine – Guns N Roses
I’ll Be There – Mariah Carey
You Are The Sunshine Of My Life – Stevie Wonder
Close to You – Carpenters
We’ve Only Just Begun – Carpenters
You Are My Sunshine – Johnny Cash
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes – from Cinderella (Sung by my favorite Berklee voice teacher, Donna McElroy)
Once Upon A Dream – from Sleeping Beauty (sung by Lana Del Rey)
Blackbird – Sarah McLachlan
Goodnite Sweetheart, Goodnite – the Spaniels
U Smile – Justin Beiber
Baby Baby – Amy Grant
Closing Time – Semisonic
Three Little Birds – Bob Marley
Beautiful – Christina Aguilera
I Will Always Love You – Whitney Houston
Everything I Do, I Do It For You – Bryan Adams
Godspeed (Sweet Dreams) – Dixie Chicks
Baby Love – The Supremes
Danny’s Song – Kenny Loggins
Edelweiss – Sound of Music
Waltz – Fiona Apple
Sweet Dreams – Tori Amos

Anything you think I’m missing?  I’m always happy to add to it.

And… that’s all for now, because Adam’s home, and I’ve got to get myself off this couch for a while. Happy weekend, everybody. ❤