Pansyiana: May 2006 Archives

Mean People (Like Me) Suck

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I have never been a person to believe any stereotypes about groups of people. I always found them silly, like urban legends. Also, back in the day, there used to be a buzz word called "prejudice" that went hand in hand with "racism", which I interpreted as a child to mean you do not see a persons exterior, but the person. We no longer hear this word as it has been replaced by "diversity" and "tolerance", which in my opinion, ahve pushed an opposite attitude. But I digress, I am ranting about something that has been on my mind, but is a bit of tangent for this post.
Anyway, one of the stereotypes I used to hear was that "old people are mean". When people told me that, I would say that's silly, my grandparents aren't mean, the people at the nursing homes I volunteered at from time to time weren't mean, and wonder why people would say such a thing.

Then at 18 I started my job working at a supermarket.

Everyday old people would come on my line and yell at me "Hurry up now, hurry up!" "I don't want a dime, a dime is too small! Can't you see that dime is too small? I need two nickels!" "You're taking too long Girl, my doctor said I am not supposed to be on my feet this long!" I remember one time, one elderly lady decided to come to the store at 5 PM on a winter night and had the luck to be stuck behind someone with 5 WIC checks. Back in those days a WIC check was a check was designated exactly what you were allowed to purchase (I don't know if they are different now). So one check would say "1 lb of beans, store brand, 2 cans of store brand juice concentrate". Then the next would say "5 jars of vegetable baby food", and each would be rung up as a seperate order. Five checks meant five seperate orders, plus a nother order for whatever the customer decided to buy with their own money. This would take time. I got chewed out by the old lady behind these people because she recently had cataract surgery and her doctor said she is not supposed to drive after dark. After she chewed me out, she went to the store CSR (despite is continuing to get darkness and running out of time) and complained about me, so I got chewed out by my boss as well. I left that day in tears. In retrospect, why I cried instead of standing up to my boss, I crop up to being a teenager.

I went home and asked my mother, "Mom, why are old people so mean?" She said that she thinks that some feel they have lived long enough and do not have to be nice anymore, but she said she really thinks many just don't feel very well, and that can make you tired an grumpy. Now, I was a teenager at the time, so the concept of not feeling well for extended periods of time was sort of beyond me.

After 6 weeks of morning sickness and 13 years without a good night's sleep, I now get it. I have become a horrible person. I am so ashamed. I keep snapping at people when I get tired at night for talking to me. But what's more, I have been saying horrible, unpolitically correct things and I am starting to sound like Dr. Romano from ER. My husband, of all people, keeps trying to counter my remarks by talking to the kids about political correctness. For what it's worth, my nasty tongue has not been limited to one liners about the French, and Puerto Ricans, and orphans, and drug addicts, and Italians, and the handicapped,and Jamaican bobsledders,(I don't think I ever made fun of the Greeks though) but my inlaws have been a great source of humor for me as well, there is just too much ammo there. And normally I would think these things and never say them, lately I don't bite my tongue. It really is because I feel so crappy. I mean that is no excuse for unChristian behavior, and I am not excusing myself. Each day, at certain times (usually at 7 PM when my neighbors start frying dinner and for whatever reason, our place is downwind and gets flooded with their cooking smells) I get really sick, and all I can do is lie on the bed and think about how sick I feel. Then I start to get really angry that everyone seems to go about their daily routines without the smallest smells sending puke up their esophagus, I go from room to room looking for some respite to no avail, and that is when I end up saying terrible things. I cannot figure out why I feel the need to do this. I mean the things I say are not random like I have Tourette's Syndrome. There is always a conversation that my remarks are apropos to, they are just not worded nicely.

Anyway, I am not annoyed at any group such as Jamaican bobsledders or anything. I could care less. Just in recent weeks, I have had more remarks made to me where someone instantly defined my marital status, my ability to speak English, my political affiliations etc. simply based on a quick glance of my external appearance. Whereas for whatever reason I found it somewhat annoying before, I suppose because I feel so crappy,and because of fequency, it really bothers me and makes me want to hurl bricks and shatter the invisible philosophy that makes people feel the need to rely on such ignorance all the time. So I guess my way narrow minded emotional way of dealing is to sound like the opposite than what is expected of me.

Insomnia Sucks

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I am going to be so dead tomorrow.

Told Ya!

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I had an ultra sound today, and even though they kept telling me I am 12 weeks and 6 days from the date of my LMP, and kept looking at me like I am the biggest idiot when I kept telling them that is very wrong, I measured in at 10 weeks and 6 days today. I maintain I am 10 weeks, 4 days today, but I will still feel vindicated.

Appointment Today

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I had my first OB/GYN appointment. I got to hear the baby heartbeat, which is always nice. But I got lots of questions about my birth control choices. With number 6, I am so paranoid this time around that this is so psychotic. Just nuts. 5 kids was "Oh, well wow, what a nice, big family. I couldn't do it, but your family is cute." Six kids is "That is just irresponsible and extreme. Next you will be a Branch Davidian." Again, this could be partly my paranoia, but I think partly. It was tirture writing down my medical history with how many pregnancies I had. They made it seem like the list just kept going, and going, like the Energizer Bunny.I think when you are pro-birth control, the biggest goal is stopping conception. I think when you are Catholic, the first goal is to be open to life, and if the need is to postpone children with NFP, the first goal is still the same: being open to life. I know I am preaching to the choir hear, but I wish other people understood that. For me personally in these day to day encounters, I don't care if they convert to my philosophy, just that they could respect it for others.

They also kept insisting my due date was 2-3 weeks earlier. I even showed them my charts, but they never saw anything like that before because they looked at it like "huh?" I said I was 9 weeks and 5 days, and she said I felt about ten weeks. They scheduled me for an ultrasound on Friday, so I will be vindicated.

The real bummer was though I have to go back on my diabetic diet. I am still sick and all blech and sick. I still am not sure what I can stand to eat, but it is not the Atkins thing again. Yucky, yucky, yucky. I guess I could live off of beans and greens. In case any one was wondering what this is, you take like a couple of tablespoons on olive oil and saute some garlic a bit on the bottom of a pot.Take a head of broccoli rabe, chop off the stems, and I guess chop it a bit, rinse it. Add it to the pot with some of the water still on it. Add a can of small white beans. Cook until the green are soft. I can live off of this, and it looks like I will have to. It is even yummier with some hot sauce or crushed red pepper sprinkled on.

Make It Stop!

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As I get older, my tolerance for things like colds, sleeplessness, and oh, morning sickness seems to diminish.
This is horrible! My first pregnancy or two, or something like that, I remember just dealing, getting through it, knowing it would be over. Now I cannot function at all, and I am incredibly miserable about being miserable, and not just being sick, if that makes any sense. I am a horrible Catholic, I offer it up, but I still cannot seem to both offer it up, and happily go about my daily duties.My bathroom is a disaster (oh who am I kidding, the house), the kids are eating crap (they made chocolate a cake for dinner and I let them eat it-keep in mind in a better feeling life I am crunchy), I am using disposable diapers, and I am schooling at the bare minimum.

I have a theory: if men got morning sickness, there would be an aisle in CVS dedicated to morning sickness remedies, in between allergy medicine, heeadache remedies, and Pepto Bismal. I know, I am sounding kind of feminist, and I don't mean to, but think about it...imagine the work hours that would be lost! Or how about this, does your average man, not good husband person who has seen this and gets it, just men in general even, or to be fair, just people really know how debilitating morning sickness is? And I don't mean hyperemesis gravidarum or anything, just plain ole fatigue and nausea, not knowing what to eat, not having energy, any movement or things with lights makes you seasick, smelling everything around wayyy too much...

I keep reading articles about how if I want to feel better, it is my responsibilty to eat right, yet how to eat right to prevent nausea is very vague, and I need to exercise to maintain my energy levels. Do these people not understand that the last thing you want when you are nauseous is a head of broccoli, and when you spend your day in exhaustion, a night in insomnia, it is not easy getting up in the morning to work-out (incidentally I do because of the diabetes concern, but I still feel like total crap). So I face it, it's my fault for getting pregnant-"you want another kid, you gotta deal".

OK, ending my rant now. I have been feeling really, really crappy for weeks now, and would do anything to crawl out of my skin and escape my body even for five minutes to feel normal. Since I can't do that, I unfortunately had to subject you to my complaining. Hope you can forgive me.

News

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The NY Moss's are expecting again. I don't know how that happened. By my calculations, I figure I am due December 19. By my past experience, it is probably another boy.

Right now I am just trying to keep food down, not smell anything, and stay awake. Everytime I sit down I fall asleep, only to wake up to find someone drew whiskers on Baby Fredegar's face.


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