Why Do I Care?

So a few minutes ago, I was bitching to Shane about this cover from OK! Magazine:


And I told him that there was NO FUCKING WAY that someone who is 5'4" and gained 55lbs with her pregnancy could be rocking a bikini like that 8 weeks after having her baby...especially after having admitted to losing only 25lbs.

His response was that he didn't really care, and he didn't know why I did.

I care because it's bullshit, to put it plainly.

First of all, the normal weight to gain during your pregnancy is somewhere between 25-35lbs. At least seven pounds of that is maternal fat stores. As in, straight up fat. The rest is varying degrees of baby stuff, like placenta, baby, amniotic fluid, extra blood, et cetera. And, surprise! Even after you deliver, you're not usually just 7 pounds over your former weight. Because even if you gained everything perfectly, it takes your body awhile to readjust from nine months of baby baking. Basically, the same reason you're an emotional nutcase after birth is the reason you're not insta-skinny.

Anyways, Kendra gained 55 pounds. So, probably, oh...at least 27 pounds of that was straight fat. She lost 25. Her baby was nine pounds. You picking up what I'm putting down here? Most of what she's lost is what ANY woman would be down by at 8 weeks postpartum, because by 8 weeks, your body has adjusted to some extent. So a 5'4" woman with (I'll be generous) at least 20 extra pounds of straight fat looks like that in a bikini?

Yeah, no.

So, why does it matter again?

It matters because women are judged on how they look. We all know it, there's no need to sugarcoat it. So why saddle them with an impossible post baby ideal? Because it sells magazines? That's a bullshit reason. It sells magazines because poor foolish people are picking that up going, "How the hell did she...oh! Diet tips! I can do this too!"

But you can't. Even if you are someone who lost all the weight in 8 weeks, unless you're like Heidi Klum, who spent her entire pregnancy eating exceptionally well, exercising, and generally taking supernaturally good care of herself while resuming post pregnancy working out and dieting 4.2 seconds after giving birth, you're still not usually in bikini condition 8 weeks later. You've probably *just* resumed working out (if you've bothered to at all.) Your skin is stretched out, you're stretch mark laden, your muscle tone is lessened and you're not feeling too awesome about yourself anyways. Then OK Magazine and Kendra come along and imply that if you're not in tip top shape again, you're obviously not doing something right.

It's depressing, ridiculous, and utter nonsense.

And not only is it bad for the self image and esteem of new moms, but it also gives new dads pretty unrealistic expectations.

Because let's look at things in reality here. He may love you and think you're gorgeous no matter what. Your relationship is built on way more than looks, anyways. But that doesn't stop men from being visual creatures. And most men will admit (not to you, probably) that they worry that, post-baby, their partner won't be as sexy. It's not because men are assholes, and I'm not trying to imply that at all. It's not sexist or mean or wrong. It's a common fear, and one men are entitled to. And the misconception that someone can look like a damn Playboy model again with some simple diet tricks 8 weeks post baby without even losing all the weight they gained probably makes some men a little disconcerted at the fact that their chick is still running around in maternity jeans.

Let me just end this by saying I'm not usually a person who bitches about Photoshopped stars. If you're looking at a model in a magazine and honestly thinking she looks like that in real life, well, you probably need a reality check anyways. But it's one thing to tweak and hide flaws and another entirely to redo someone's entire damn body and market it to women who are already self conscious from a very natural event that very naturally changed their bodies.

So, fuck yourselves, OK! Magazine. And double fuck you, Kendra Wilkinson, because by now you know how difficult it can be to lose baby weight, and you still think it's ok to sell an ideal YOU can't even be to the women of America. Shame on you.

Stream of Consciousness

I'm a little more worried than I probably should be about this pregnancy. See, I'm a worrier. If they had, say, the Grammys for worries? Pfft, I'd be all up in that business. I *try* to be laid back and all that jazz, but I'm really bad about dwelling and freaking out over small things. Anyways, this particular small thing is, well, small. With Rhi, I was induced because my amniotic fluid was way low. And now they're monitoring me for the exact same thing with Kiera. And, today, the ultrasound tech said the fluid was normal, but on the low side of normal, and advised me to drink a lot of water. Which is frustrating, because I almost guarantee that I consume more water per day than almost anyone reading this blog. But I'm going to try to cut out that daily Coke (well, or I'll just do the decaf version, since it's a huge craving this pregnancy) and replace it with 2 more glasses of water.

On the bright side, I seem to have slowed down a lot on gaining weight. In the first trimester, I gained a ton with exercise restrictions, tiredness, and crippling nausea that wouldn't stop unless I had something in my mouth at all times. The second trimester, I just overindulged cravings. This trimester, I'm just making sure that when I eat I'm actually hungry, versus "Mmmm that looks good, I could eat, I guess." That seems to be helping, a lot.

I'm cancelling my gym membership, though. Why? Because, honestly, when we move, there is no way in hell that I'm going to be able to drive to town and cart 2 kids daily to go to a gym. It'd be expensive and selfish. So I'm just going to buy a Wii Fit. The Jillian Michaels thing, because she both scares and awes me, lol. I have an elliptical too so I think I will be in good shape as long as I actually use them. I also think I'm going to get a set of 8 pound or 10 pound weights to continue to tone my arms. Which have turned to flab since I've been a slacker. :(

My goal is to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight and tone in 6 months or less. Since I'm going to nurse her, I can't lose it too too rapidly. So I think 6 months is a good goal. I know I could do it a lot faster, but again...I don't want to lose it crazy fast with the bfing thing.

Rhi's first big girl Valentine party is tomorrow. That's insane. She's getting so big so fast. And she's so exceptional...smart, funny, and surprisingly athletic for being *my* child. I know all parents think their kids are just amazing, but she seriously blows my mind.

I'm so overly emotional lately. I feel like a caricature of a hormonal chick, and it makes me crazy. I cried at a cartoon the other day. I won't even tell you which one, I'm too embarrassed. I have also cried at, in the past week: a book, a commercial, a baby magazine, Rhi singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Twitter. Twitter, for god's sake! And those are the things I knew I was crying about. I have also, three times now, cried for NO APPARENT REASON. I'm stupid jealous and paranoid, too. I became convinced that Shane was having an affair the other day. Why? Hahahaha, if I knew, I could tell ya. Shane is like the least likely cheater on Earth.

I find myself re-reading all the same crap over and over and over, so if anyone has books they no longer want, they should pass them on to me.

I'm so so so so so so so so so glad for this three day weekend. I need it like whoa. My job is really stressing me out, mostly because my overly emo self is taking everything on Earth to heart lately. I really wish I could afford to go on maternity leave now, but we just can't afford for me to. Sucks, but there are only fiftyish more days left til my two weeks of vacation followed by maternity leave. I can do fiftyish days, especially since in three weeks, I get four day workweeks by virtue of prenatal monitoring. So it'll actually be less than that.

I think every day how I should start packing crap up to move, then I realize that Rhi and I basically only have our essentials at this house. What I seriously need to do is throw out half the crap I have in storage. But that seems like a huge undertaking, so I'm being a procrastinator.

I feel like this blog seems whiny, and I don't mean for it to. I really do have a pretty amazing life, full of love and laughter and wonderful people and times. I'm very blessed like that. I don't, and won't, take that for granted. :)

Yawn. I'm signing off now and going to sleep for sure. Night, blog reader type people.

What a difference the years make...

Mike and I split up shortly before Rhi turned one. That was just about two years ago.

I was pretty much a wreck. It was really hard to be on my own after the longest relationship I'd ever been in. And I was a stay at home mom, so I was broke, and had no income coming in. What the hell was I going to do? Add to that the monstrosity of a home Mike and I were buying. It was insane, and needed a billion pounds of work. Work I for sure COULD NOT do on my own. Work that would cost me a ton of money to contract out.

Add to that the fact that I had, at the time, Mike's horrible truck, a gas guzzler with a leaking brake line. Oh, and did I mention a baby? "Leaking brake fluid line" and "baby" are not two things you want to put together, for sure.

And even once I had a job and car and such, things were hard. Mike and I weren't the nicest to each other at first, for obvious reasons. Our relationship has evolved a ton since then, but, at first...jeez. It was wretched. We couldn't have a civil conversation. And we got back together a few times, just to break up again.

The end of a marriage is a gut wrenching thing. Even if you know it's not working, even if you know it can't work...it's heartbreaking, and horrifying, and terrible, and a million more adjectives, not one of them good. I never felt like more of a failure, like more of a terrible person, mother...

I'm very glad to be done with that part. It's not something I'll ever forget, though. Even thinking about that time can bring me to tears.

Luckily, like I said, things evened out. Luckily, because I know tons of people whose relationships never did, who still deal with an ex who brings them strife or pain. Mike and I, I can honestly say, attempt to treat each other with tons of respect and try to help each other in whatever capacity that we can.

Anyways.

Back after we'd first broken up, I remember telling a friend that I was sad because I really wanted another child. And I was certain that now, I wasn't going to have one. It broke my heart. You see, I determined long ago that thirty was my personal baby cutoff. Some women's biological clocks start then...mine was over at that time. The end. After thirty, my uterus, I decided was closed for business. And I was certainly not going to find someone to spend forever with by the age of thirty. Not when I was just now freshly split at 26. (Or 25. I honestly can't remember if it was before or after my birthday.)

So I dated...a lot. And it was frustrating, as dating always is. Fun, sometimes, but frustrating.

Enter Shane.

If you gave me a pen and paper two years ago and made me write a list of the way I assumed my boyfriend would be, I assure you, it would not have added up to a profile of Shane. Shane and I are vastly different people in a lot of ways. I'm the emotional, passionate one - he's the logical, analytical one. I am quick to do something once I've decided I want to and he'll procrastinate even if he KNOWS he has to do something. We can't even agree on a damn radio station. I love pop and he...doesn't. I love seafood, and vegetables. And mushrooms, yum! He loathes all of those things. And, dear god, I could write a much longer list. It's got the makings of a situation comedy written all over it, let me tell ya.

And, yet, here we are. We're happy, despite the fact that I'm not sure we can ever see eye to eye on lots of stuff that I'd once thought was important. And, against my own odds, we're having that second child that I wanted but was sure I'd never have.

Life's pretty crazy sometimes.

Pat Robertson and Haiti

So unless you live under a rock, you know about the earthquake-torn Haiti (and hopefully a few ways to help, should you be so inclined.) But you may not yet have heard all about why it happened. I mean, I totally just thought it was a terrible natural disaster. Thank dear baby Jesus that Pat Robertson was there to correct us all.

Pat Robertson, for those of you lucky enough to not know, is a televangelist and the host of the 700 Club. He also once ran for President, and thank the lord, didn't win, and has famously said things like 9/11 was God punishing us for gays, lesbians, abortions, et cetera. He's the real epitome of a good Christian, let me tell ya. (/sarcasm) Anyhoo, Pat Robertson wants you to know that Haiti made a pact with the devil, and now God is punishing them. This pact apparently took place during the time of "Napoleon the third and whatever"(gotta love Robertson's amazing grasp of history there) and only now is God retaliating. Little late, isn't it, big guy? Were you waiting for the element of surprise?

Seriously, though. What happened in Haiti was a disaster and a tragedy, but one of very natural origins, not a godly punishment dolled out for something that happened in a (skewed) historical timeline. And it's incredibly distasteful and disgusting that someone who claims to be a Christian would be being such a douche about it.

What's more disgusting, though, is that you know people buy what he's selling. Think about it. The man didn't become what he is because no one listens to his nonsense. This is the truly horrifying thing about religion. (Please note: in the next two sentences, if I just offended you by calling religion horrifying, you will understand what I mean and probably forgive me.) Religion can be twisted by charismatic yet evil people like Robertson to make those who are easily led rush into blind hatred. Obviously not all religions or religious people do this - I saw several pastors on Twitter emphatically stating that they disagree completely. But there are a lot of easily manipulated people out there. and people who have agendas full of hatred like Robertson can and do seduce a lot of them. It's scary and bad.I sincerely believe that if the end of the world happens by the hands of humans, it has a strong chance of being because of some horrible person manipulating generally good teachings (because most of the teachings of most religions are generally good, decent ones) into something awful and convincing others to go with it. 

Sad.

For Serious?!?

Did you know that there are people who believe that HIV doesn't cause AIDS?

I'm quite literally shocked by this.

These people, often called HIV deniers or AIDS deniers, have a couple of trains of thought. Some completely deny that HIV even exists, while others attest that it's a harmless passenger virus that doesn't cause AIDS. If they do believe AIDS exists, they attribute it to a multitude of non-HIV things, like the drugs given to HIV patients to keep them alive longer.

What's terrifying about this is that there's a small minority of idiots actually making people think that taking HIV meds is a bad idea. So there are earlier deaths resulting from that. Plus, they don't think HIV is passed sexually, so it's no big deal to them for someone infected with HIV to have unsafe sex with someone who doesn't. The social irresponsibility of that is simply disgusting. And possibly worst of all is that these people, if made pregnant, don't think it's necessary to take drugs to keep their fetus from getting HIV. Quick fact: if given the right medications during pregnancy and if  the mother abstains from breastfeeding, the fetus has a 1% chance of becoming HIV positive. 1%. Great odds. But HIV deniers have no qualms about not taking those medications, and usually do breastfeed.

As a parent, I find that criminal.

When you're pregnant, you have an inherent responsibility to that fetus. You're growing a life. Your needs and wants and lofty ideals come in second to the child you are responsible for. The end. It's why, even though I might want a margarita like a man on the Sahara wants water, I don't drink one. It's why people quit smoking. It's why people who are sure they want intervention-free home births turn to regular obs when they have pregnancy complications. Because ideals aren't as important as the child you're entrusted with.

Stupid people have always upset me. Dangerously stupid people like this terrify me with the potential for harm that they have. 

Vaccination Nation

(The title is only because when it popped into my head, I internally snicked to myself and thought, 'Heh, like conjunction junction.' How easily amused am I?)

When I first had my daughter, I wasn't sure if I would vaccinate her. The anti-vax movement had been particularly vocal right before her first vaccines were set to be administered, and I spent countless days, during her naptimes, not doing the sensible thing and sleeping or doing the housework that I was oh-so-behind on, but studying vaccines. I called my father, hysterical, crying, freaking out, worried that, either way, I was dooming my kid to something awful happening. 

I couldn't, in all of my research, find any good, controlled evidence that vaccines did terrible things to kids. So, I sucked it up, and I let Rhiannon get those first shots. And I watched her like a hawk. She slept ten minutes later than normal - was that an adverse reaction? Yet as paranoid as I was, doomsday never happened. Rhi was fine...healthy, happy, growing, whip smart. I breathed a little easier. Then came the MMR vax, and I panicked once more. People I knew called this the autism shot, anti-vax sites, blogs, et cetera linked this shot, and especially the mercury in it, to autism. I was gripped with horrible fear. I researched, and things were so confusing. The link to autism seemed to not be factual, but anti-vax stuff was so emotional and seemed convincing, full of horror stories and anecdotes. I went into Rhi's doctor's appointment totally unsure what I would do. So I sat down with her doctor, and I blurted out all of my fears. He listened, and didn't condescend, which is part of why he's so amazing. He assured me that thimerosal had been removed from vaccines years ago, that it wasn't ever even in MMR, and that studies of it even showed that thimerosal didn't adversely effect anyone. It wasn't taken out because of proof, but because a "better safe than sorry" approach was  taken. He wemt on to explain that he had had a couple of patients with measles that had had very serious complications from it. He went on to say, "I only recommend for my patients what I would feel comfortable doing with m y own child. If Rhiannon was my daughter, I would give her this vaccine without a moment's worry." He also explained a little bit about herd immunity, and how important it was.

So she got the vaccine. I'd be lying if I said I didn't still worry. But the sky didn't fall. 

Many, many parents are opting out of vaccines for reasons that aren't based in fact. There's a lot, lot, lot of misconception out there. Luckily, since I had Rhi, people have made information much more easily accessible. I absolutely love the site antiantivax.flurf.net (excuse the lack of link, I wrote this on my phone.) It's got a lot of information, presented very plainly, with lots of easily accessible citations, and a plethora of links
explaining things like herd immunity, why the vax schedule is the way it is, et cetera. And USA Today put out a great article yesterday about the effects of lowered herd immunity. Like I said, linking is damn near impossible from my phone, but if you Google the headline "Missed Vaccines Weaken Herd Immunity in Children" you will almost certainly find it. Anyone with vaccines concerns should look at those for a really realistic viewpoint.

I will absolutely vaccinate our newest daughter. Not only that, but those in the closest contact with her will get whooping cough boosters to ensure that we don't unwittingly bring home something detrimental to her. I don't have the hesitation I had with Rhi at all. Sure, I'll still watch carefully for reactions...nothing in life is 100% safe, after all. But there's a wealth of information showing that most vaccines fall firmly into the category of reasonable risk.

7:25 am

I'm not giving a back story on why I'm upset here. Reading this, you'll probably glean an idea, but not a really detailed one, because I really just need to type as therapy and don't want to cause unnecessary drama. So if this confuses anyone who reads it, I'm really sorry. Oh, and I couldn't think of a good title, hence the lame one, lol.

I don't actually like everyone that I meet. I know, gasp of shock, right? Lol. I don't usually bother actively disliking them, though. While I do have a wretched temper, something someone says or does might momentarily flare it, I might rant to someone, (usually Amanda. Shane is awful to rant to because he is always all logical, and, let's face it, emotions aren't the most logical of things) and then I give it no thought. I don't hold grudges usually, unless someone has just deeply, deeply offended me. Sure, I may recall something they once did to annoy me when I'm annoyed at them again, but it's not hovering in my brain as a list of vendettas or anything. I think most people are probably the same way as me.

Anyways, so, even if I don't like someone, I don't make it a huge issue. It's not usually worth it to be so petty, especially since I live in a fairly small town. Ever played six degrees of separation? Pretty easy here where most of the locals seem to be related and lines of friendship and relationships get oh-so-complex. And, save that, I admit that sometimes, I'm totally wrong about someone. I have friends that, at first, I didn't like for some reason, that I now think are awesome and feel ridiculous for disliking. I have no problem copping to it when I've misjudged people, either. Nor do I mind being proven wrong about such things. At heart, I really like to see the good in people. I am not a person who feeds off drama and discontentment.

I really don't like being unfairly labeled as someone who would be bitchy and petty and overly dramatic, though. I stupidly let that stuff get to me, because I think I have way, way more class than that. So instead of being like my friend Susie, who'd shrug it off (probably by saying, "What a bitch. Hope they get kicked in the junk." lol) or a number of other friends who'd just think "I didn't like that bitch anyways, and I was obviously right," I take it to heart. And I dwell on it. Not because it's their opinion that matters - I really am not horribly worried what most people think of me - but because *I* don't want to be that petty person. So I scrutinize myself to see why someone would think that, and, moreso, why they would vocalize a thought like that, that seems so out of left field to me. And I dwell, because I convince myself that somehow, *I* did something to make said person think that way. I've been doing that, with this unnamed situation, for the past twenty four hours. But I don't think I want to bother anymore. I've gone over it, and I honestly can't see anything that I've done that would justify the implication of me as that type of insensitive person. Not everyone is going to realize the type of person I am, and I can't let other people being inaccurate and disrespectful bother me this much. So I'm just letting it go. Also, I'm going to try to stop beating myself up over these types of things. If I did something wrong, I'll apologize and go on my way, but if I didn't, I'm not going to be overly worried about it.