Sometimes
In order to get ourselves out of the house and to try to decrease my pregnancy-leftover-body Veronika and I go to the Fairgrounds park and walk in circles. It's true. I actually like it. Here are some impressions:
I attempt artistic pictures...
... while she takes a nap.
TV update
Well, Veronika is still sleeping thanks to this, so I will attempt a second post!!!
Given my current occupation I get to watch a lot of TV. Day-time, mind you and I don't have cable. I know, it's a tragedy. I will accept donations for a cable subscription ;)
Anyway, two things that reaaalllly caught my attention:
Hispanic Heritage Awards
Maybe this is not PC* but I find these award shows racist. Why do they need their own awards? Why is it not enough to just be good at something, why do you have to be a good MEXICAN actor or a good AFRICAN AMERICAN singer? Oh and don't tell me it's the opposite of racist. Why aren't there any Vietnamese Heritage Awards? 'Cause there aren't enough of them? So heritage is only valid if enough people share it? And how come white people don't get to do the Irish/Italian/German etc.-American heritage awards? Because white people are represented in all the "other" award shows... soo.. turns out, only white people can afford to just be what they are without having to emphasize their cultural background or skin color?
Maybe I don't understand. Or maybe it was all done for the sponsors anyway. American Express wanted to let the hispanic people of America know that they love their money just as much!
Madonna on Oprah: "I send my daughter Lola to "Spirituality School for kids" once a week. They teach them about God, about themselves, about right and wrong, about sharing ... I wish someone would have told me at 6 how important sharing was!"
Oprah: "Yeah, it is amazing that at 6 years old she will learn to take resposibility for her actions! What a blessing!"
Uhm?! I didn't know that was uncommon?! So it turns out I was immensely privileged in my incredibly oppressive, old-fashioned and conservative Catholic upbringing. Poor Lola, her mom has to discover warm water all by herself. And you'd think it helps to have a name like "Lourdes"! ;)
(*Politically Correct)
Posted at 02:17 PM on September 18, 2003 | Comments (2)When I grow up ...
I apologize for the delays but I have a 6-week-old. ;)
It seems that I have now definitely entered the "mom"-chapter of my life, not only by having eliminated useless things as "time for myself" from my existence but by having attended a "MOMS" group. This particular one actually does stand for "M oms O ffering M oms S upport" but I believe there are a gazillion moms-groups out there that are not an acronym and work the same way.
It was a fun and strange experience I must say. I guess the fact that the group is organized by the First Methodist Church added some of the strangeness. Not that Methodists are strange, but I'm not really familiar with many other Christian denominations. I will confess I did feel a small pang of guilt spending two hours listening to a non-Catholic lady tell me about marriage in the Christian sense, but I quickly eliminated that by being my also very open-minded self. That and my parish does not have a moms-group.
Apart from the denominational strangeness I found myself immediately in my alien-role. It's a little like "Third Rock from the Sun" - I SEEM to look normal but actually deep down I'm an extraterrestrial. ;) Anyway, I sit there and see about 20 ladies, a little WASP-y-looking to me. You know... a little like that soccer mom... very put together (well, not too much, it's the midwest of course), very kind and friendly, a little high-strung, very christian (with little cross earrings), talkative and smiling - always a teeny bit too much. I know this is terrible stereotyping and I feel bad for that, I really do. These ladies were really very nice, but I can't help getting a little panicky. As much as I'm sure of my identity... there's no way to escape that little voice that is suggesting that one day I will be sitting there among them saying: "I'm Dinka, married to Lincoln, I've been living in Valpo for 15 years and I LOOOVE it, absolutely LOOOOVE it." I will be wearing hideous shorts I don't have the butt nor legs for anymore. I will have cut my hair real short, not because I think it's cute but "it's sooo much more practical". I will spend my free nights distributing potpourri in my carpeted living room or attending Tuppware-style parties and gush with my friends over the incredible prices at Sam's.
Oh I feel so bad now. I apologize. This is not the real me. I can be a nice person. But I will NOT spend my life in Valparaiso, Indiana, no offense.
Posted at 01:52 PM on September 18, 2003 | Comments (3)So, anyway...
Thank you for all the encouraging and sympathetic comments! I think that's just what I needed... everybody to feel sorry for me!
But before I start getting Paxil in the mail, rest assured, I am not depressed. I had to exaggerated a bit to make the post interesting. It's what artists do, you know? ;) Of course the last 5 weeks have not been like this permanently. Yes, I had some very bad days, and I am lacking sleep, but generally things are ok and definitely getting better - like all you experienced mom predicted.
Anyway, for a more realistic rundown read here.
"How to fry your brain" or lose your self-esteem in 4 weeks.
Sleep only 4-5 hours every night or less, preferably in 2-hour intervals.
Stop showering and brushing your teeth.
Add 20 extra pounds haphazardly over your entire body, making a nice saggy pouch up front and a big cushy seating pad in the back.
Wash your hair randomly and usually don't brush.
Obviously do not take time for skin care or make-up.
Wear shapeless old clothes, preferably stained and wrinkled.
Eat randomly, mostly uncooked meals consisting of bread with something on it.
Cut your social contacts to a minimum.
Focus your thoughts on baby poop and baby food intake.
Have the sink full of dirty dishes.
Keep lights on during 24/7 to help confuse night and day.
Repeat above daily for about a month. Now stop and answer the following questions:
What's your first name?
When was the last time you felt pretty?
What time is it?
Write down what you are thinking right now? Anything???
When was the last time you thought this is the most tired you have ever been?
Oh, 2 minutes ago? Congratulations. You did it. ;)
Posted at 04:32 PM on September 04, 2003 | Comments (11)