Posts Tagged ‘rant’

This has been bugging me for a while, and since I’ve decided to try and make more of an effort to blog regularly, here goes!

From the moment my son made his escape from my uterus, the comments started about it being time for another one. Seriously, the kid couldn’t roll over yet and he somehow needed a baby sister.

And when you tell people that you may never have another child, they look at you as though you’ve just told them you routinely feed your current child poison. Somehow it’s like not wanting more children makes you a bad parent to the one you’ve got. I even had someone tell me that my mom, who passed away five years ago and never got to meet my son, would be disappointed if I only had one child because she loved children so much. Oh, HELL NO. Leave my mother out of it.

I’m not saying there’s a 0% chance we’ll ever be more than a family of three – four, if you count the dog. But, for the foreseeable future, that’s what makes us happy. We’ve never wanted a BIG family. It was always our plan to see how pregnancy and infancy played out for us the first time before deciding if we’d have more than one child. And, as it happened, neither of those stages was particularly kind to us.

First, I had a miscarriage. Yeah, I know, it was a fluke. There’s a pretty good chance it would never happen again. But that doesn’t mean it was any less excruciating – both physically and emotionally. My husband and I were devastated – we withdrew from everyone for a full week while we leaned on each other and grieved.  You can’t shut out your current child while you grieve the loss of one who never got to live. It doesn’t work like that. When you have a child to care for, life goes on. Even if it feels like it shouldn’t. And I can’t imagine it would be an easy task to explain to a young child why mommy is curled up in bed crying in pain. So while having had a previous miscarriage wouldn’t be the thing that would make or break the decision to have another child, it’s always lurking there in the back of my mind.

Then there was the actual eight solid months of nausea. Pregnancy was really NOT my friend. I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t glow. I dry heaved. I vomited. And sometimes I did it with such force that I peed myself a little. I even tore a muscle once. I was nauseated before I even knew I was pregnant – it was one of the reasons I tested so early. I threw up so much between 6 and 7.5 weeks that I lost ten pounds in ten days. I couldn’t keep water down. I missed two full weeks of work at that time because I couldn’t stop throwing up long enough to go. Even after I was medicated, I still spent the majority  of most days feeling sick and still threw up at least once or twice a day during my first trimester. After my first trimester, the actual vomiting decreased to a few times a week. But I was still nauseated every.single.day. And then in my third trimester, the vomiting returned full force. Imagine having varying intensities of the stomach flu for eight months straight. Yeeeah, it sucked. I can’t imagine doing it with a toddler in tow. Plus I feel like it would make me a really shitty mom. I felt like a really shitty wife the entire time I was pregnant. I can probably count on my fingers the number of proper meals I cooked for my husband during the entire eight months. I had no desire to go anywhere or do anything. I wanted to be left alone with my yoga pants and barf bucket. I know every pregnancy is different. But what if it’s the same? Having my kid stroke mommy’s hair while she lays on the couch and sips gingerale every day probably won’t get me on the short list for the mother-of-the-year award. And I have a feeling making my kid entertain himself because I feel too crappy to interact with him properly won’t either.

Plus the kid didn’t sleep for ten months. Seriously. He didn’t sleep consistently well until he was over ten months old. For the first eight months (EIGHT MONTHS!!!), he woke every 1-2.5 hours. He never slept more than two and a half hours. Then he finally started sleeping for 3-4 hours at a time. I’ve said it before, I was bitch. And I could get away with being a bitch to my husband. He got it. I’m not proud of it, and we still had our share of fights. But he’s an adult and he was (to some extent) going through the same thing. You can’t be a bitch to a kid just because you’re excruciatingly exhausted. I mean, I guess you could, but you’d probably screw him up pretty badly. And I don’t want to do that. My kid is pretty awesome.

Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, we’re happy as we are. We love our son. We love each other. We’re happy.

So, to summarize, I have a long list of reasons why I may choose to never have another child. Not that I should have to justify my decision to anyone. (With the possible exception of my husband.) It’s nobody’s business how many children I choose to have or why I choose that number. And it doesn’t make me a bad mother because I don’t want to have an entire litter. It doesn’t mean I love my child any less than someone who wants to have two or three or ten. Hell, maybe it means I love him more because I don’t feel the need to have another to make our family “complete”.  Actually, no, I don’t believe that at all. I feel that some people could have a dozen children and give them all an amazing amount of love. I don’t judge anyone’s choice to have multiple children and don’t think it means they love them any less. But I also don’t think you need to have more than one (or even have one at all!) to love adequately either. My best friend doesn’t EVER want to have children, and I don’t think that makes her any less of a woman or any less affectionate. She loves my child. She just doesn’t want any of her own. And that’s perfectly fine. My brother-in-law and his wife decided not to have children right away after getting married. They have other goals and priorities. Maybe some day they’ll have children, maybe they won’t. And I think it’s ridiculous when people ask when they’re “starting a family” – they ARE a family. They just happen not to have any children.

My point is, I don’t care what anyone else does with their uterus. I don’t care if someone wants a bunch of children or just one child or no children at all. They can decide what works for their family and I’ll decide what works for mine. So I wish other people would learn to keep their opinions out of MY uterus!


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Don’t touch my baby!

Gah! One of my biggest pet peeves when out in public with baby is that strangers seem to have no understanding of boundaries! You wouldn’t walk up to a strange adult and smooth their cheek or hold their hand. So why on earth would you think it’s acceptable with a baby?!

I’m not talking about running into someone I actually know. I’m talking about complete strangers who do it!

We were out at Costco yesterday and one of the workers came over to oogle baby. No big deal. But then she proceeds to reach out and smooth his cheek and put her finger in his hand!

That is NOT okay!

It’s flu season! And you been handling money all day! And you’ve been interacting with hundreds of people! And I don’t know you!

This morning my baby woke up with a red, irritated eye. I can’t pinpoint the cause. I’m hoping he just scratched it or something. But if it develops into conjunctivitis when myself and my husband don’t have symptoms, I’m going to be pissed!

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Okay – rant time!

I love cooking shows. I’m not a big fan of sitting around watching television (unless I’m in bed at night). But when I do watch TV during the day, it’s a cooking show. Our television is practically permanently tuned to The Food Network. Today, however, I have a huge beef.

I was watching one particular show where the host was preparing food for children. And she kept stressing the fact that the recipes she was using had “no added sugar”. But she was sweetening her recipes using honey and maple syrup. ARGH.

Sugar is sugar is sugar.

Sure, honey and maple syrup aren’t refined like white table sugar. But they’re processed the same way in your body. If you were to read the nutrition facts table on three identical recipes – one sweetened with white sugar, one with maple syrup, and one with honey – you’d find that there’s sugar in all of them. Just because something is natural doesn’t mean it’s better. If you were a diabetic, you would learn that eating maple syrup or honey is the same as eating white sugar. Why? Because SUGAR IS SUGAR. Your body recognizes it all as being the same thing.

“Nutritive sweeteners provide calories or energy to the diet at about four calories per gram, just like carbohydrate or protein. Common examples of nutritive sweeteners include white and brown table sugars and molasses, honey, and syrups such as maple and corn. These are all sweet tasting because of the presence of glucose and fructose, alone or together as sucrose.”


So beware of recipes that claim to have “no added sugar” but have these other natural sweeteners in them. They all cause a rise in blood sugar, and they all have the same number of calories per gram.

End rant.

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