Who is anonymous?

Okay, I am a little creeped out. Who posted the comment under anonymous? Please identify yourself. Thanks

I need motivation! Plus, a little Facebook rant.

I think my lack of followers is quelching my desire to blog. Like, why blog for four people. Though, I know I have more than four, since I get emails from "followers" commenting, that just don't sign up. Please sign up, please sign up. Just a little nod to one of my favorite rappers.

I apologize in advance to those of you that are on facebook but never write anything, but it bugs me. Mainly because I keep getting comments about how I am "always" on facebook. Umm, no I'm not. It just seems that way, because when I go on facebook, I write a little something. I comment. I sometimes post pictures. I don't lurk on the facebook walls, never commmenting, and then make comments in real life, like "you are on facebook 5000 times a day". I love facebook. It is a great way to connect with people, and even get to know them better. I love typing "what's on my mind". But, if you don't like it, you don't like people's comments, than don't go on facebook! I am a little spastic. I have to be doing several things at once. At work, I did alot of physical activity, as well as a good amount of computer work. When I was in the office, people were in and out. I can't sit too long, so I would go out on the floor and check up on things. Even when I was young, I had to do homework in front of the tv. Or read and watch tv. I have to be doing at least two things at once. So, when Sophie is playing, I am with her, but if she is playing by herself, I jump on the computer. When I am cooking or doing dishes, I have the tv on, and during commercials, I turn it to the computer. I love the computer, I love being online, I love being able to chat. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't do it. I'm just saying...

Worrywortitis.

I wish I could be one of those people that doesn't worry. How great would life be without worrying? I can't imagine. Sometimes, I think I am addicted to worrying. I probably am. I do find myself searching my brain for things to worry about. Like, I know there was something, what was it? Oh, yeah, I need to worry about that. For example, I have always worried about money. Really, I could have all the money in the world and still worry. That's why it was so unlike me to quit my job, which was at least 65% of our income. I went back to work when Sophie was 9 weeks old, because I couldn't imagine taking unpaid time. Now here I am, not working, living on savings which is dwindling fast. Lately I have worried myself sick about that situation. Sometimes I think, it's okay, I will get a job and we will be fine. But then the worrier in me kicks in. Now, Sophie is a whole other source of worry. I worry about her lack of eating. I worry something is going to happen. I worry I am damaging her by being with her all the time. I swear, if I have to hear one more time about her being serious I will scream. I have never made a verbal observation about someones child that wasn't positive. Why do I keep hearing all this crap. Now I have found myself explaining that she is shy. Then I feel bad, that I shouldn't say that in front of her. Sophie is who she is right now, which will change as she grows. Why can't people keep their opinions to themselves? I want Sophie to grow up happy and confident, with good self esteem. I don't want any of this negative, worrying, self doubting crap to affect her. When we are together, she is very happy and sure of herself. Lately around other people she is very unsure. It is a phase, I'm sure. Today when I picked her up from the church nursery, I was told she wasn't herself. Didn't want a snack, didn't want anyone to touch her, etc. Something else to worry about. I said I think she is getting her molars, which is true. But maybe that isn't it. Maybe that's just her. If we could just let kids be who they are and let them know that's okay, we would have alot less worrying, self doubting adults. In my opinion:)

Second hand wine?

So, we hear about second hand smoke all the time. What about second hand alcohol? I am not totally against the idea of a drink now and again. However, I do not understand the whole drunk thing, and I do not find it fun to be around a bunch of drunk people. To this end, Chet and I had a non alcoholic wedding. This did not go over too well with my family, but it was our wedding and we wanted to enjoy it. Which is possible without alcohol, for us anyway, but I guess not for everyone. We had an early wedding, at 11:30am, with a lunch reception on a lake. It was beautiful and relaxing and left us with the evening to ourselves. It was very much us. Of course, it is alot of fun to go to weddings and dance, and drink champaigne(I pass). A wedding is a time for great celebration, however is the most fun for the bride and groom. Though, like in any situation where there is drinking, I would assume there are designated drivers for anyone drinking. I have recently found myself in a social situation where there is alot of drinking, and some of those drinkers drive home. For me, these events would be much more fun with a little drinking, but not the excessive drinking. I am really trying to be more social, and I am truly interested in meeting new people and getting to know them. However, I don't need to know all the tmi that spews out when they are drunk. I mean, shouldn't you know my name before you share all the intimate details of your life? The thing is, I'm sure they don't remember what they said or did the next morning. Joking about drunk driving? From grown women. Mothers!!! Maybe I will never find a group that I fit into. I mean, I am sarcastic, I cuss sometimes, I make fun of myself and others, I am far from perfect. But I don't like to get drunk. I can't have more than one drink, because even that effects me, and thus I only have one if Chet is with me and driving. Usually, just on Cinco de Mayo, and after this year, I think it will be a long while before I have another. In a few months, I have to host one of these events, and wine is expected. I haven't decided how to handle this. I don't want to be responsible for people drinking and driving. Nor do I want people to get drunk at my house. Maybe I can hand out tokens at the door, limiting each person to only one drink. Or, just have no alcohol and try to serve really good food so no one will notice. Or, I could make a yummy punch, tell them it has alcohol in it, when it really doesn't. Like, a reverse spike. Ooh, I like that idea. I swear, I have had a hangover all day. I didn't drink. I think all the fumes gave me a buzz, and a headache. Second hand wine.

Public restroom etiquitte

This is one of those "common sense" things, which really isn't common at all. I can't begin to tell you the horrors of dealing with public restrooms in my long retail career. You wouldn't believe the disgusting messes left for us to clean up. Or all the women that walked right out of the stall without washing their hands, and then went and touched merchandise. What about talking on your cell phone while in the stall, taking care of business? Of course, the bathroom is also a great place to steal and leave your old undies. Who are these people that have no dignity and will leave their icky tings on the floor, or wall for us to take care of?

Today, before I left the mall, I stopped at a restroom inside a large department store. I had Sophie in the stroller, so I needed the large stall. There were at least twenty stalls, and most were empty. Except the large one, which wasn't marked handicapped, but everyone knows it is for wheelchairs or people who need assistance. Or strollers. Obviously I can't leave Sophie outside while I go in the stall. Even if I want to leave the stroller, full of stuff, trying to use a regular stall with Sophie in there is very difficult. So I waited. And waited. And waited. Ten minutes. Finally, the woman emerged. Not handicapped. I know this because in my fidgeting, I could see she was not on the bar side, but the other side, adjusting her clothes. At one point, I thought maybe she was concealing merchandise. Maybe she was. So, I push the stroller in, to find not only did she not flush, but she had at least ten seat covers on the seat, atill there! I couldn't flush them all, so I had to pick them up and put them in the sanitary disposal. Gross. Now, when all the stalls are being used, I would expect anyone to use the larger stall, but this wasn't the case. Also, why does someone need to be in there ten minutes? She wasn't even using the toilet most of the time. I could see her moving around. This is not the first time this has happened to me. We have at least another year or more of stroller use, so I guess I have more of this to look forward to.

So, please try and use public restroom common sense. Don't use the phone. Wash your hands. Don't smear your bodily secretions on the wall. Or write on the walls. Or draw. Or let your kids peak under the stalls. I will try and make sure mine doesn't. Unless you piss me off on my way to the stall...

My name is Ann, and I chose to formula feed.

The breastfeeding question came up years and years ago, with my husband. Both his mother and sister had breastfed, and it was something he was rather set on. From the get go, I knew I did not want to breastfeed. We had this conversation a few times throughout the years, even before I went off the pill. Right along side the whole "I can't be in the delivery room because I faint at the site of blood" arguement. Needless to say, he was in the delivery room, cut the cord, and helped me formula feed our daughter for her first year. He did have to go in the bathroom and throw up when I got the epidural, and then dissapeared for hours while I was in labor, but he was there for the important part.

After the suprise of finding out I was pregnant after years of trying and no fertility help at the time, I had a rough pregnancy. I was on bedrest most of the first trimester for an internal bleed. I was worried sick the whole time about the baby. I also agonized my entire pregnancy over the breastfeeding vs. formula feeding question. I had to go back to work, and there was no where to pump there. I needed to go right back on my medicine. I also have a long history of depression, and was worried about needing meds for that. Plus, I knew I would be very stressed out about breastfeeding. If I formula fed, Chet could help with feedings. I was 40, married for ten years, and in for quite an adjustment, according to my Ob, anyway. Throughout the pregnancy, I discussed my decision with my OB at all my appointments. Of course, she thought breastfeeding for six months would be best, but she did not pressure me. I felt alot of pressure from outside sources. Breast is best, after all. Yada, Yada, Yada. I knew in my heart, it was not for me. MY OB would only write me a prescription for my medication if I wasn't going to breastfeed. I take metformin, which is a diabetic drug, but I take it for the pcos and insulin resistance I have. Had she allowed me to be on it my entire pregnancy, I most likely would not have had gestational diabetes, because it keeps my sugars in check. So, by the time I was going to be induced at 39 weeks, I had made a firm decision. I would formula feed.

Every nurse that was in and out of my room from check in to check out wanted to know why I wasn't breastfeeding. The pediatrician was fine with it. The nurses, not so much. I just told everyone that asked that I had to be on medication. Two new nurses came in when they were getting ready to check us out, and my hubby had left the room. I gave them my pat answer. Sure as shit, they come back in saying it's okay, that's a class B drug, you can still breastfeed. Do you want to try? We will help you. I sat there speechless. They almost talked me into it. I told them my OB wasn't comfortable with it. They backed off. I really don't understand why people are so invested in how others feed their babies. I could have said I just don't want to. Or, I have been through hell, I have my miracle, I just want to sit back and enjoy her. It was in my chart that I was formula feeding. Just leave it at that. Why is it their business?! I went back to work when Sophie was nine weeks old, and was asked if I was breastfeeding. When I said no, one person actually said "Oh nevermind, it's you". What the eff? Like something in my personality screams evil formula feeder!

Now, I will admit there were a coule of times that I couldn't get Sophie to drink her formula and tried to give her the breast. My milk did come in, something else I was worried about. She wouldn't take it, which is probably a good thing. I know I did the right thing for us. As it turned out, we had an easy adjustment. Every day was like Christmas, and still is. Formula feeding was absolutly the right decision for us. Sophie never got sick until she was 13 months old and went to the Church nursery for a couple hours. She has only had a couple colds since, always two days after going to the nursery, and all mild. She is a smart, healthy little girl. I do not feel I harmed her by formula feeding her. I do feel that had I gone against my instinct and breastfed her, I would not have given her the best of myself. I admire anyone that brestfeeds. I think that's great. But, it is not for me, and that doesn't make me an inferior mom. Just an outcast as usual, a role I'm used to.

This is why I don't like Labels!

The people who know me well would say that I am conservative. Mainly, because they are very liberal, and we don't even get in to politcal conversations. Number one, I am anti abortion. Number two, I voted for Bush in the 2004 election. I did not have any faith in Kerry, we were in a war that Bush started, and after 911, I was very leary of national security. These two things are appalling to my liberal friends and relatives. Anyone that is truly conservative would definetly call me liberal. While I consider myself pro life, I do not fit into the Church's vision of pro life. I do not believe in abortion. The phrase "A womans right to choose" literally makes my skin crawl. I just don't understand it. However, I do not believe illegalizing abortion will stop it. It would only make things worse. I do believe it should be very tightly regulated. My views on this subject deserve their own blog.

So, I took one of those nonsensical Facebook quizess, and was labeled "Very liberal". Shock and awe to those that know me well. Of course, those quizes are hardly accurate. Though, this one had alot more questions, and seemed much more indepth. After I got the result, I realized I was signed in under my husbands name, so I took it again under my name. Same result. So here I am questioning myself. I do have some over the top ideas that I suppose are super liberal, like legalizing prostitution, and certain drugs. I just do not understand why someone who is lonely and wants to pay for sex can't, but someone that sleeps around, gets pregnant and doesn't want the responsibility can legally kill an unborn child. It makes no sense to me. Two people that love each other and want to spend their lives together and raise children, can't in most states. In some states they can't adopt. But, someone who doesn't want to go through a pregnancy and put the child up for adoption or care for the child themselves, can terminate the pregnancy. Where are our values??? I value love, family, peace, and kindness. I do not find it moral to condemm people for who they love.

I am square. I don't understand why people get drunk. I don't break the law, I don't steal, I don't lie(unless I am playing a game). I did live with my hubby prior to marriage, though we were engaged. That was the right thing for me, and us. Boy, did I learn some things in that year and a half that would have thrown me if we had already been married. I am very conservative with money, and my hubby wasn't, until I got ahold of him:) Do I have a liberal heart and a conservative mind, or vice versa? I don't know. I just know what I think and believe. Conservative, liberal, independant(my choice), it doesn't matter. I am who I am. Goes to show, you really have to get to know me to know all my layers. The same for everyone, I'm sure.

May Day 1974

Today is May Day! I love May Day. It signifies to me that summer is coming and flowers are in bloom. To my dismay, May Day seems to be lost on the younger generation. Or, maybe it isn't taught in school anymore. Now, don't expect that I remember the exact meaning of May Day. I will have to google it. All I know is that there would be a May pole, with beautiful ribbons flowing down, and girls dancing around it. For us, it meant making paper flowers, leaving them on a doorstep, ringing the bell,and running. Actually, I believe we left real flowers on the neighbors doorsteps. But, when I was in the first grade, we made flowers baskets out of paper, and I was so excited about running home, ringing the bell, and leaving them on the doorstep for my mom.

Keep in mind, I had just turned 7 years old. I walked to and from school by myself. We lived on 83rd and 3rd, and school was on 80th and 1st, I believe. So, I had to cross a semi busy intersection, first across 80th, and then across 3rd. I ran home with glee that day, so excited about leaving the "flowers" on the doorstep. As I crossed 80th, an elderly couple stopped and got out of the car, panicking. They had hit me with their car, or so they said. I was in a crosswalk, and had the walk sign. To this day, I don't remember being hit. I did fall, but I got up, and was happily continuing on my way. But, No! Someone that lived across the street saw it and called 911. The elderly couple and others that gathered around would not let me leave. I was scared, as these were strangers, and annoyed. A fire engine was there quickly. Then an ambulance, and police car. They made me sit in the ambulance. They wanted to know where I lived. I told them my mom was very busy. My sister Cathy was in kindergarten, my sister Gina was four, and my sister Lisa was 10 monts old. I begged them to let me be on my way. They were ruining the suprise! They wouldn't let me move from the ambulance. I saw my mom pull up and started to run to her, but they stopped me. I yelled, that IS my mom! The elderly man was quite shaken. They had to check him out too, I think. I told my mother that they did not hit me! The woman that called 911 told her that they did. I was so upset. They ruined May Day! Now that I think about it, maybe this is were my need for control began, or maybe it is something I was born with. All I know is, at barely 7, I was extremely upset with these adults for disturbing my mother and ruining May Day. And not listening to me. I was fine, I just wanted to go home.

I can't believe that was 35 years ago! Last night I got tears in my eyes at the thought of Sophie some day leaving flowers on the doorstep, ringing the bell, and hiding. Of course, she won't be walking to school at the age of seven. Her mommy is a little controlling. Then again, Sophie is already extremely strong willed. Hmm, where could she have gotten that from?