Why someone will have their hand down their pocket, scratching, in public. Like in an elevator. Then they stop for a second, only to start up scratching again. Dude, that is what bathrooms were invented for.
People who look around, before picking their nose in traffic. If it is daytime and you are picking your nose in your car…someone is watching.
Men who make comments about why breastfeeding is so simple and they don’t understand a woman who wouldn’t do it. Ok, then, you try it. Asshat.
Why anyone would look at a newborn and say, oh what a pretty girl? When the BOY in question was wearing a dark blue onesie that says baby brother on it. If you don’t know, don’t just assume. I’d way rather someone say, oh what a cute baby, then try to guess.
Why a group will come out with new songs; put them on a “greatest hits” CD and then not let you just purchase those three freaking songs. No, you must purchase the CD full of songs that you already own for three little songs. Egotistical much?
Why I bother to pay for professional photos of my children, when they come out looking all weird. Why it is that my sweet little daughter thinks a camera is going to steal her soul. Why my son can be happy all day, but put him in front of a camera and he gets all grouchy and starts crying, like I told him he was being returned to sender. Why my oldest suddenly believes she is on the cover of some fashion magazine? Is one good photo at Christmas too much too ask? My house is filled with photos of the kids. Almost none of the ones that are up, were professionally taken.
Any of you have something you just don’t understand? I’m full of them these days.
Remember me? I was the one singing Van Morrison (quietly I might add) to my newborn son in the airport on Sunday. You must remember me. I was the one you were looking at like I was insane. Oh you remember now. Yeah that figures. You said to your friend/relative and I quote “That’s not appropriate to sing to a baby.” Really? Because lullabies are so f’ing great? Let’s ignore your rudeness and bitchiness for just a second and talk about lullabies. The oh so appropriate lullabies people should, in your mind, be singing to their newborns.
Bah Bah Black Sheep….lets just sing about stealing from an innocent sheep. Plus, this is 2008. I live in a major metropolitan city. Sheep are something my son is likely to see three times in his childhood and always in a zoo. I doubt any of them will be black sheep. Plus, my son has no master and the boy in the song gets no wool. Why in the hell would I want to sing my son this screwed up song?
Ring around the rosie: Pocket full of posies, ashes ashes we all fall down. Oh yes, lets sing about the freaking plague. This is what I want Harrison to know about. Sweet dreams son.
Rock-a-bye Baby: Do we even need to discuss the baby in a tree song? Baby in a tree? Falling down, baby and all? Why don’t we just call CPS and get it over with?
Babies don’t care what we sing to them. They don’t care if our voice creaks. They don’t care if we make up words. Do you know that my daughter Morgan sings to Harrison all the time and he coos at her? When he’s cranky and I’m trying to finish dinner or something, I send her to sing too him. She sings whatever song she has stuck in her head, the ABC’s, or some silly made up song about Mama eating his cheeks. Last night she was singing her multiplication table to him. He just loved it. He could care less what it is, he just loves the way we sing to him.
Van Morrison, Days Like This? Is hands down a better song for my son to hear. I’d rather sing him anything besides kid music. You know why? Because my kids don’t own that crap. They have never in their life owned a Raffi CD, or the Wiggles or even a Barney-Dora-Issa is poking her eyes out type of CD. Everyone who knows me, knows not to buy this stuff for my kids. I won’t give it too them. I’d rather them sing the songs on the radio. I love that they know which Satellite radio station they want to listen too each time we get in the car. I’m rather proud of the variety of music my girls like. They request songs by artist and title. You haven’t really lived until you’ve witnessed Bailey singing and dancing to Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T’s. You should watch my kids when Pink’s, So What, comes on in the car. They go nuts, they love it. They are not being harmed in any way by not having a Raffi CD.
There are so many things I could say too you. So many horribly mean things I could put out for the world to know about you. I am very observant. I’ve thought about it for three long days. However, I’m a nicer person than you. I may judge people I see, but it’s always in my own head. I don’t judge people out loud in a crowed airport for the whole world to hear. If this had happened last year, I’d have likely snapped your head off and fed it to a shark. Just count yourself warned. Not everyone would have continued singing to their son and then walked away.
My son, is not being harmed by me singing whatever song I have in my head too him as a lullaby. In fact, I think he is perfectly content with anything I sing to him.
So eat that, Biotch in the airport.
Hugs and stuff,
Issa
Man, these trolls really do know how to kick someone when they are down. It’s like they look for an opening and just start flinging poo. Last night during the debate I made some comments on Twitter. Maybe not the nicest tweets in the world, but really, have you seen the stuff that gets said on there during debates? It doesn’t really matter what I said, only what happened because of it. Honestly, that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life. But hey this is my blog, so here it matters. At least to me.
It’s not so much what was said, but the way it was said and the timing of which it was sent. Those of you who use Twitter, will understand this a little better, but I’ll try and explain anyway. This person has been following me for a while. I’ve never followed her, because honestly I’m not going to try and follow people, just because they live in Colorado, which is I believe how she found me in the first place. Since I don’t follow her, I wouldn’t have necessarily seen her tweet right away, so she DM’d me. A DM, for those of you who don’t know, is a Direct Message. Since I sometimes use my phone to get tweets, even though it was not turned on at the moment, I still get DMs sent as texts to my phone.
So the asshat poo flinging troll DM’d me at midnight last night. On a freaking Wednesday. And I’m pissed, because I hadn’t turned off my ringer. So it woke me and Logan up. Because you know, I was sleeping at Midnight, a concept I know. But the worst is, SHE WOKE UP THE BABY! And you know what you never do to a three week old newborny? Wake them up. You NEVER wake them up at night. You don’t DM somebody at midnight. Not anyone, it’s fucking rude. But especially not a person with a NEWBORN. Want to hate me? Fine. Want to unfollow me? Go right ahead, you know where the button is. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out. Want to send me hate mail, be my fucking guest. All of these things can be dealt with in the day time hours. But don’t wake up my sleeping baby and husband. Logan gets up at 5:30am. He goes to bed by 9pm. You woke him up, right when he was getting his best sleep. Then because the baby was awake, we were all awake for another two hours. If there was a bitch slapping device that reached through computers, my husband would have used it on you repeatedly last night.
Then there is what she said:
nanciannaj “Ya, not enuf wrds 2 tell u all the resns why, cuss like a ho, politically ignorant, let me guess…from ca.? Dun following.“
So I’m a politically ignorant ho? Nice one. My aren’t you clever?
The definition of ‘ho’, for your clarification is: Used to express surprise or joy, to attract attention to something sighted, or to urge onward; the slang definition is: A prostitute. Somehow I believe it’s the latter, that you intended. Here’s the thing though, you’ve obviously never met a real ho. Because those ladies can cuss. They make sailors sound like tiny school children. And prostitutes are still people. People with lives and family and political beliefs. And not to draw attention to your obvious mis-understanding of the English language, but I’m not a ho. See, I’m a married woman. Not that it matters, but I’ve only ever been with one man, the man I married and had three children with. Yes, I cuss. Not nearly as much as I used to. I also use it in context. Maybe I cuss more after two glasses of wine. Funny thing though, I didn’t cuss at all last night. I’ve gone back and looked, and nope, no cussing.
Politically ignorant? Well I guess in your pea sized brain, anyone with a political opinion other than your own is ignorant. That’s a sad way to live and rather boring if I do say so myself. I’m done talking about politics. I’ve voted and I understand the issues and I’m done. But I have relatives, friends and blogging friends who are conservative republicans. All of whom, I adore. Our beliefs don’t have to be the exact same for us to be friends. I am an open minded individual, which obviously you are not.
From California? Well yes, this must have been a deal breaker for you. Did you know that all Californians are the devil? Who let the secret out of the bag? We are taking over and gonna rule the world. Would you like it if I said, all people from Colorado Springs are horrible human beings? No, I doubt you would. But here’s a little fact for you, I’d NEVER say that. I’m not that kind of a person. I’m not the kind of person you are.
So go back to your bubble of a life, where all people are the same. Same, same, same; like my friends son says. Then again, he’s two years old.
Please take your poo flinging monkey ways elsewhere, because they are not welcome here.
You all know where I stand politically. I don’t need to rehash it over and over again. I’ve said my piece and I’m done. At least this week. But I would like to talk about health care for a minute. Both candidates promise changes in health care. Obviously I believe in the way Obama is stating it. But either way, something needs to change in our health care system
Here’s the deal. My previous company was an extremely large corporation. My family was always covered under my coverage, with me only having to pay for their coverage, mine was paid by my employer. This was all well and good. Until we moved. My old company does not have a Denver office. This meant, I had to find a new job. I did find one, but it’s with a small firm. I can not be covered by their insurance plan. I was denied. My kids were denied. We have pre-existing conditions. Logan’s company is brand new, with him and two of his cousins. They have no employees at this time. Basically there is no way for them to get coverage either. So we had to go out on our own to get coverage.
We were turned down by twelve insurance providers. TWELVE times, we were turned down. Basically anyone of them that you’ve heard of, we can’t get insurance through them. They literally will not cover me and Bailey. They’d cover Logan and Morgan, but not all of us. Doesn’t matter what we’d be willing to pay, they will not cover us.
Our pre-existing conditions are not that far out there. Bailey and I are both asthmatics. We both have bad asthma and numerous allergies. They won’t cover Bailey because of this. They won’t cover me because of this and because of the small breakdown I had last year. Here’s the thing about my breakdown though. I did not end up in a hospital. I did not end up in any facility for any time at all. I did not try and kill myself. I was just seriously depressed and ended up in massive therapy and on some meds. But for this and the asthma, I am uncoverable. My four year old child is uncoverable.
We considered going uninsured, except that our medications would cost us as much as my dam mortgage. Plus, a cousin of Logan’s is uninsured and they treat her badly anytime she has to go to the doctor; her and her kids. Doesn’t matter that they can pay their bills and feed their kids, but because they can’t afford insurance, they are treated like lepers. They do not qualify for government help, but they can’t afford insurance either. So they go un-insured and pray that nothing major happens to them. When regular things come up, they pay cash to be seen.
So, we found a plan. A crappy insurance that I’d never heard of. We have a $20k deductible for the year. Which means, we basically pay for anything and everything at the time of service. No discounts, no hope of our insurance covering it. We pay $1250 a month for a $20k deductible plan. The only saving grace with it, is that our prescriptions are almost free. Which is good, because they’d cost us more than the plan does a month.
Basically we are paying for all of our own medical expenses, even with insurance. All because of pre-existing conditions. This is the reality of our health care in this country. People can’t afford it; people are going without it; or people are paying an arm and a leg for the crappiest coverage out there.
Something has to change. As a country, we can’t afford for it to stay like this. Personally, I think health care should be something that everyone has. It’s a basic need, like water, air and food.
When Obama says things about health care like these statements: “Require insurance companies to cover pre-existing conditions so all Americans regardless of their health status or history can get comprehensive benefits at fair and stable premiums. – Create a new Small Business Health Tax Credit to help small businesses provide affordable health insurance to their employees.” I want to jump up and down. I want this to happen. He has a plan to make it happen. I need this to happen. Because I can afford my shitty insurance. Logan and I have worked our ass off for years to get where we are. I can afford to take care of my family. To provide the medications my daughter and I need to stay alive (and sane). I can afford to pay cash if I need to, every time my other daughter has a high fever (When it gets above 104, Morgan has a seizure. Lets just say, last year, I because friends with the ER staff.) and needs to go to the ER. I can do all of this. But most people couldn’t. Most people would be on the streets if it meant needing to pay what we pay out each month. Or they’d be on medic-care or whatever.
This system sucks donkey balls. It needs to change, it has to change. It’s unacceptable the way it is. And blaming it on people who can’t afford health care, is not helping anybody. Blaming it on our taxes doesn’t do any good. The days of blame need to be over. We just need to fix it.
It bothers me when people say that having health care is a choice. That people make the choice not to work hard enough for it. That people make the choice to be on medi-care. It’s not that cut and dry; not that black and white. Health care is a gray issue. There are no easy answers. But instead of blame, we need to work it out. We need someone in power to stop ignoring it and do something about it.
You just don’t do it. You just don’t. You don’t fuck with a hormonal woman whose just given birth. It’s just wrong. A nurse should know better. Can I just say, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Ok, I’m better now. Let me explain.
On Saturday morning we were supposed to leave the hospital. The nurse came in to take the baby and give him one last check over. She didn’t come back and she didn’t come back, an entire hour went by. I pushed the button and asked the nurse when they were bringing Harrison back and they said, we’ll check and let you know. Forty minutes goes by. Somewhere in there, Logan shows up to get us. We wait and I wonder what’s taking so long. After a while, I send Logan to go and see what’s up. They send a nurse back in with him and start asking all of these questions about our family’s blood. Is there any hemophiliacs in our family, any blood disorders of any kind, have I been on blood thinners and didn’t tell them? I answered their questions and then promptly lost my shit. I just couldn’t deal with it. With everything we’ve been through in the past year, the thought of something being seriously wrong with this perfect newborn was just too much. So I sobbed and sobbed and yelled at the nurse and yelled at my husband. Then I demanded to talk to the doctor. Come to find out, they hadn’t called a doctor to look at him. They were basing it all on the fact that he was bleeding still because of the circumcision.
I told them I wanted my son in my room immediately and a doctor called now and if they didn’t do it, I’d sue their asses off. Not exactly sure what I could have sued them for, but it was the only thing I could think of in the moment. Within two minutes, Harrison was in my arms and a doctor had shown up. My doctor in fact, who was there, having just delivered another baby. She takes one look at me and asks the nurses to leave the room.
I take back everything I ever said about this Doctor and her not wanting to induce. She is amazing. She sat on the bed and hugged me for a few minutes, whispering tiny nice things to me and Harrison. Then she examined him. He was bleeding a tiny bit from the circumcision, but not bad at all. She said, sometimes in there beginning if there isn’t enough Vaseline on him, it will rub on the diaper and bleed. Also, she said, sometimes the vitamin K shot takes a bit longer to work and possibly he didn’t get all of it, because he was really squirmy when they given it to him. So she gave him another small shot of it. Which stopped bleeding in less than a minute.
They freaked me out for nothing. Which sucks, but I’m so glad there was nothing wrong with him. I couldn’t handle anything being wrong with him.
In other news, my son is perfect. I dread saying it out loud, because then it might change, but he is perfect. I am so in love with him, that I can’t even explain it. We all adore him. He sleeps and eats and when he’s awake, he’s very aware. He is a cuddler, but if you put him down (which doesn’t happen a ton) he is perfectly content. He doesn’t seem to mind his noisy sisters. When he is awake and in the room with them, he follows them with his eyes. He eats like a champ and when he wakes up at night to eat, he goes right back to sleep. He’s definitely a keeper.
So now, please excuse me, because I have to go and stare at and kiss my son.
I know two posts in one day is annoying. I apologize in advance. But seriously I had to share this. I saw this article on Time Warp Wives and it’s making my blood boil. These women have gone back into the 50′s, 40′s and 30′s, they just sit, sew and bake all day while waiting for their husbands. They don’t have modern conveniences in their homes, choosing to own everything from the time period they’ve chosen as perfect.
Seriously, read it, it will scare you I’m sure.
Hmmm…. the Internet was around in the 40′s? I somehow doubt it. One woman talked about eradicating all modern conveniences from her home…but she has done hours of Internet searching for her 40′s crap. Because I guess it’s not purchasable at Target. Oh wait, she wouldn’t go in a Target.
Reading this made me want to bitch slap them. Also, I’m pretty sure it made me dumber.
I stole this list off of MSN but it’s so true. What’s funny is that people think they are being so nice when they say some of these things.
So…was it planned? I always want to say, no, but were you? I mean really, if only planned children were born, there’d be so few of us on the planet.
30 weeks? You’re still so small! Hahahaha, I’ve never gotten this one, I get the opposite. Are you almost due? You look ready to pop. Yeah, I’m gonna pop you if you’re not careful. Never mention weight in any way to a woman, this is what my husband says. I think it should be a standard rule.
Speaking of pregnancy, did I ever tell you about my sister’s 36-hour labor. Oy ve, seriously! These stories scare the crap out no of me right now. The 40 hour labor, the neither regions torn to shit, the breech positions needing to be turned, and my oh so favorite, the overdue baby. In a way, you want to know what you might have to deal with, but mostly these things keep pregnant women up at night. Dude, I’ve had kids, I know how it can be, but I still shudder every time I hear one of these tales.
Well, maybe next time it’ll be a boy. This just bugs me. We’re getting, oh it’s a boy, you must be thrilled. Well yes, we are, but we’d have been just as thrilled if it was a girl. I’ve never cared on any of my kids. If I’d had three boys or three girls that would have been just as cool. A baby is a baby, you know?
Felt any kicks yet [said while placing hand on her belly]? Never touch the belly without asking. NEVER!!!!!!! I am hungry and I might just eat your hand.
[Insert name]? Really? Hmm, that’s an…interesting choice. This is why we don’t tell until the kid is born. We made the mistake with Morgan, telling family and we got so much shit. Oh that’s a Hispanic name; oh don’t you mean Mia; where did you come up with that? Not nice people, not nice at all. Now if someone is telling you that they are going to name their kid Apple or Moxie Crimefighter, I beg you, please say something. But mostly, it’s not your kid, so be nice.
That’s a decaf latte, right? Actually bitch it’s not. I just heard this in Starbucks. Literally half an hour ago. Like it’s any ones business. Today I decided that I can’t do decaf anymore. I’m just not sleeping and I needs me some caffeine. So real coffee here I am, I’ve missed you.
Let me know when you’re at week 15. I’m praying this one works out. I can’t even go there on this one, but I got it alot in the beginning.
Yeah, babies are cute and all, but just wait until puberty… Um okay, we all know teens can be a pain, hell we all were one at soem point. But ti’s not enough of a reaosn to not have kids. Because honestly 3 year olds can be worse.
Anyone have one they’d like to add?
I went into the Target superstore this morning to pick up a few items. You know the usual, 2 dozen donuts, three half gallons of chocolate milk and 4 bunches of bananas. I swear to god the woman in the checkout looked at my stomach and then at the food 6 times while ringing me up. She didn’t say a word, but she was giving me the stink eye. I can’t even imagine what judgmental things were going through her head. Like, lady you might want to step away from the donuts.
I wanted to say, um these are for my kids day camp party today. I swear, I won’t be eating a single donut. (Not that looking at them didn’t make me drool, but I am here at work, eating my peanut butter toast and drinking OJ, no donuts in sight.) But I don’t think she would have believed me. She was about this big (holds up pinkie finger to show the Internets) and she was totally judging me. I wanted to say, you know, one day you’ll be the preggo chick. One day, you’ll be the one with two kids and a third on the way. One day you’ll look like a beached whale. You won’t be a 19 year old skinny snob forever, it just doesn’t last.
But I didn’t, I didn’t say anything. I left the store fuming and I went to work.
Sexy is not word I’d use to describe a 33 freaking week pregnant chick, no matter what the baby center emails say. The media however does. They show pictures of Heidi Klum and Angelina Jolie and expect all us pregnant women to live up to that. 99.9% of us don’t. You know why? Because we didn’t look like Heidi Klum to begin with. So there’s no way we’d look like her, just because we’re pregnant. Women are asked how they’re going to lose the baby weight, before the kid is even born. It’s just wrong and I’m sick of it. Whatever happened to doing what is best for your baby? Whatever happened to celebrating women for giving the gift of life? Whatever happened to the understanding that not all women are alike and we don’t all need to look like super models?
I guess I can understand what she was thinking. I’m never gonna be like that, I’m never gonna be fat; when I’m pregnant one day, I’m going to watch what I eat and that won’t happen to me. A lot of teens believe this. But she didn’t have the body of Heidi Klum, so I doubt it will work out the way she thinks it will in her head.
I just wanted to shake her and say, when it’s you, you won’t want some punk teen judging you. You will one day be the hormonal woman wanting to shake someone just like you. So knock it off! But this isn’t acceptable behavior, so instead I explained to my little girls why it bugged me so much. I explained it to them in words they could understand and I did my best to leave behind my attitude and one day I can hope, they won’t be judging someone like me.
Because, she was so judging me. And this is the only thing I can do about it; try to educate the next generation. I just hope it will be enough.
AMENDMENT: (Ha, you can totally see what type of profession I am in.) In response to Alissa, I have gotten these kind of comments forever and I feel your pain. I have horrible skin allergies and I can’t wear jewelry. I have a wedding ring, which I used to wear around my neck on a chain, but even that gives me insane rashes, which leads to bad exema and asthma issues. Gold, silver, platinum, it doesn’t matter, I can’t wear it. I’ve been married for almost 10 years and I get comments made about my girls being…whatever. Although it wasn’t as bad in LA as it is here and I can only imagine how much worse it would be in a small town.
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