Tag Archives: Writing

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Happy Fireworks and BBQ Day!

Today is the Fourth of July, the American independence day where we fought for our freedom from scary old England. Look at Kate Middleton and see how intimidating she looks. I wouldn’t want to see her red-coated self against us though I bet it might be a Burberry red trench coat. (You might be surprised I pulled that out of my butt, I assure you I Googled it to make sure it existed first. Exit surprise mode.) We did it though, us under-dogged Americans showed our tea drinking enemies how we do this war thing and we celebrate this day every year as a result. We celebrate it with our Asian fireworks and foreign booze, because what better way to celebrate American independence then by showing what a melting pot of everything we are. Go us.

To clarify, I’m not mocking the holiday or what it stands for and this sarcasm was more for humorous purposes than an underlying agenda of “America sucks”. I don’t have an underlying agenda of “American sucks”, because even on our worst days we are still better off than most countries on their best days. That counts for something, and though we’d be lying to ourselves that we don’t need to improve anything, we have a lot we can be thankful for living here. Plus what other country has the useless politicians that are easy fodder for comedians? We’re blessed I tell you.

I think that while we celebrate our original fight for independence from England in true American form, we shouldn’t forget one fact: the reason we can still celebrate our independence is because we have people who still fight to make sure we keep it. It’s not just soldiers fighting overseas to keep us safe, it’s activists that continue to fight for ideals they believe in whether we agree with them or not. It’s those people who stand up for what they believe in and refuse to back down. It’s educators that teach our children how to think on their own and giving them the tools to succeed out in the real world. It’s also us parents that tries their best to make sure their children become moral and useful people in society. We need to be grateful to these people, we need to be grateful to ourselves. The reason we can still celebrate our independence is because we still stand up for it, and it would be a shame if we forgot that while we drink by bonfires and watch fireworks in the sky.

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Things I Learned From the News Today

Before I get started, after some thought and convincing from friends, I’ve decided to tweak my format a bit. While I’ll still keep my Monday, Wednesday, and Friday format, the topics will be changing. Monday and Wednesday will still exist as usual, with whatever I feel the need to discuss that day with the recently new focus on current happenings in my life and as a parent/expectant parent. However on Fridays, I’ve decided to focus on my experiences as a teen and single mother. It was brought to my attention that I shouldn’t be wondering where a role model for people in that situation is; I should be someone to step up and be the role model. The only real way to make a change in the world is to be that change. I’ve preached it enough, I should stand by what I say and do it, otherwise what’s the point in asking other people to. My hope is that eventually after sharing my experiences I’ll have enough attention and readers where I can give advice to other people in that same position. With that said, if I do get attention of people in need of honest advice, I’ll be setting up an email for questions or anything else. I’ll answer to the best of my ability on my Friday blogs or a return email or both, depending on what the person wishes. I hope that this succeeds or even helps at least a few people who find themselves in a situation that still is looked down upon in our day of “acceptance”.

Now… to the post.

What I learned from the local news today: Apparently it’s been studies that spanking a child could lead to adult mental illness. I understand that real abuse can, that’s already something that has been proven. But really? A spank on a misbehaving child could lead to mental illness? I’ve done a study too about not spanking your kid. From that study I learned kids that didn’t get spanked also grew up with a mental defect: It’s called “entitled spoiled brat that doesn’t follow rules”. I was spanked, my husband was spanked, everyone I know my age or older was. We weren’t hurt, the sound was the scary part, and it was never done in anger. I think kids need the fear of God in their parents to stay in line, whether you actually spank them or just threaten them and scare them out of their behaviors. It does work. I’m definitely not saying that hitting your kid is something you should do often as a main punishment or to abuse them. But I also think when people complain about how out of control their kids are and how out of control these other kids are growing up to be, we need to reconsider something that has worked in the past. Besides, this could easily be one of those studies like “what causes cancer this week?” Eventually we’re going to learn that cancer is caused by something predestined in our own system as a result of our genetics, and likewise we’re going to learn that kids that were spanked once or twice growing up isn’t the reason they had mental illness but that they were just genetically short-sticked.

What I learned from Anderson Cooper coming out: I don’t think anyone’s shocked, and I’m certain that most people will still love him. I know I do. I also don’t think this is real news, we need to stop focusing on what celebrities are gay. It’s not our business anymore than it is our business that we’re straight. They don’t walk down the street and debate if I’m straight, why should I debate their sexual orientation. I do acknowledge that people like him and Matt Bomer who are normally private about their personal life needed to speak up to show they weren’t ashamed of who they are, but what does that say about our culture that they need to tell the world and be branded as the “gay actor” or “gay journalist” to get people to not be ashamed of who they are and get bullies to accept them.

What I learned from Fox News: This next bit doesn’t just apply to Fox News, all the news organizations are guilty of this. However, I witnessed this on that channel so they get credit in the title. They were doing a segment on a Syrian activist’s funeral in which the Syrian government may or may not have bombed. (It’s not my place to say either way, it’s irrelevant to the point.) They show a clip where the body is being paraded through the center in celebration of the activist’s work, when all you see is an explosion and smoke and chaos. I remember growing up and they wouldn’t even show the bodies that were uncovered in Iraq from Saddam Hussein’s genocidal regime. All the bodies were blurred out, and they spoke over as they scanned the area. The blurred images were enough to show how awful of a person he was. Flash forward to last Olympics when the luger died on impact hitting a pole on the way down his track. It was live, so seeing it once couldn’t be avoided. For the rest of the night and week, we rewatched this image so many times that it was stuck in our minds. When did we arrive at a time when the news was worse for our kids to watch than an R-rated gory horror movie with sex and violence? The news should be just that, a source of information for current events. They shouldn’t need to show us horrific images to get more viewers. Let’s get back to reporting the news.

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Some Things Always Stick With You

My last post took me back about 10 years ago, upon discovering I was about to become a statistic or rather a few statistics. As I mentioned last time, I don’t like to be labelled. But here I was 18 staring at a test staring back at me with the realization that I wasn’t going to be able to avoid any labels anymore.  To this day, I’m not sure if it was the label or the experience that terrified me the most though I’m pretty sure it was the label. I was fortunate that I had a stable enough job even as low paying as it was and was well liked, so they didn’t mind letting me work all the overtime I had the energy for both before my son and after.

What amazed me was that I went to look for books and articles in parenting magazines for something I could relate to, and I found nothing. What’s worse than thinking you’re alone, is realizing that you have nothing to prove you wrong. Logically, I knew even from school that I wasn’t the only teenager who ended up in this place of pending motherhood. I read magazine after magazine hoping to read an article about someone my age or even someone alone in the process to write something I could relate to. Instead, I found articles about how to include your partner or how adulthood changes when you become a parent. What about me? What about how much more difficult it is to be a teenager and become a parent, whether you’re 15 or 18 like I was. Or at least something that didn’t make me feel like I was less than every other parent out there wanting to do what’s best for their child. Even now all I really see is that you get a TV show about being a pregnant teen and realize that the “role models” are terrible for other teens that find themselves in that mess, and worse that it sets a bad example for those teens who step up and make something out of their situation. Why can’t they show that not all teen moms are train wrecks waiting to happen (or currently is). Some of us work our butts off to do the best we can and go to college and try to succeed in life. This applies to single mothers, they shouldn’t feel like they need to give up on their life and work minimum wage or not at all.

Even in today’s age, I think single and teen mothers are seen in a negative light. Prominence of them doesn’t mean acceptance. Someday I can hope that just because the situations aren’t ideal, doesn’t mean we should ignore it like it doesn’t exist. These parents need just as much relatable information as every other parent does without the fear of judgement about the situation they are in. They get enough judgement from people in the real world, they don’t need it from so-called parenting experts. I hope someday someone with the means to offer such a publication should reach out. I’m all for prevention, but sometimes even all the prevention in the world, you need to accept things do happen.

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From Behind Those Thin Walls

I remember having problems growing up with my “lady week”. Finally during a doctor’s appointment with my pediatrician, my mother asked her about it. Rather than referring me to the OB/GYN office, I remember the doctor saying “no need, she’ll never have kids anyways”. It didn’t shatter me as much as I’ve seen people on TV shows when they are told this. I never dreamed of being identified by who I was associated with. I wasn’t “_____’s girlfriend”, I was Brianne. So the idea of not having to be defined by who my children were or who my husband was, actually relieved me. Marriage and children weren’t a priority in life, it wasn’t something I aspired for. I aspired to be a writer, write some short stories and plays. If I got married and had kids, then fine. If not, I didn’t think it would be something earth-shattering to me.

Then, I had my first son and that changed. I realized my problem wasn’t with having kids; my problem seemed to be getting along with kids that weren’t mine. It does give a certain purpose, even if you’re 19 and a single mom. He was a blessing, and I treated him as a miracle because he was never supposed to have existed. Even though the doctor was obviously wrong, when my husband and I started talking about having kids I began to worry that maybe she was right and my son was just a miracle child. I made sure he knew that it might not happen for us, and 2 months after stopping the pill we were excited to announce that we were expecting.

Since then whenever I come across a show where people are having fertility problems or other complications with their pregnancy, I get sad and feel guilty. I wasn’t even supposed to have one, and now I’m on my second perfectly easy and healthy pregnancy. I’m reminded of this when I overhear things in the doctor’s office. When I see tears on a woman’s face because she was just told that he baby was either going to be born with problems or not even make it that far. Or the idea of having to terminate a pregnancy because of complications. This makes me feel guilty too, and I know it’s nothing I can control. But it doesn’t make me feel less guilty about the idea of “what makes me more worthy to have an easy time with it, when these nice seeming people have all these complications”.

I usually take a deep breath and decide not to question the good things. Every pregnant woman or mother or especially a combination of both has enough to worry about. Feeling guilty for things that are beyond  your control just adds stress to one of the most stressful times of your life. Plus, I’m sure they would rather not have “pity” for their situation either. We should just be thankful for the good things in our life, because it could always be worse.

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When Old Men Attack

Saturday was a hot day. By 9:30am, the sun was already setting us on fire while we were getting ready for the last little league game of the season. I mentioned how a nice iced drink would be perfect, and we decided to hit McDonald’s drinks to cool off with. No big deal, and our son in the back seat was excited for his day of baseball then a picnic with his teammates. The day was supposed to be a good and stress free day, and so far so good. That was wishful thinking too soon, I should’ve known better.

As we pulled away from the “drive thru”, barely out of the corner of my eye I notice a car too late. The guy saw that we didn’t notice him and decided to continue his drive anyways. He stopped so we went ahead, and we thought that it was all done with. We were wrong. In my view I could see that he pulled up next to us, and was yelling at us through his window. When my husband opened his window, and a slew of profanities came out of this old man’s mouth. He apparently expected my husband to climb out of the car and bow down to this obviously superior white man to beg for his forgiveness. My husband calmly said “I’m sorry I didn’t see you, I already said I’m sorry. What more would you like?” This man continued to yell, and I swore I heard him hurl a few racial slurs towards my husband. Luckily the light turned and we went on our way trying to forget this incident.

A few things bothered us about what happened. The obvious thing was that this man (who was easily in his 50’s-60’s) felt that he had a need to belittle my husband over a mistake. A grown and supposedly mature man was acting like a 16-year-old. The fact that he hurled obscenities and slurs at my husband was bad enough, but we had a 9-year-old in the back seat listening to this person act this way. He listened as a person referred to my husband with words he’s never heard before and words he knew were negative towards him. If my son wasn’t the kid he was, that man could’ve shown him that it was acceptable to use that language in that situation. Luckily, my husband is a good person and obviously a much better man than this guy twice his age.

I have an awful temper, I know this and I know well enough to swallow my words most of the time before something is said that would make me ashamed. That man should’ve been ashamed of himself, and I could see from the look on his wife’s face that she was ashamed enough for all of us. Road rage is awful enough, but what gives that man the right to say what he said? He would’ve been just as much as fault if we did actually get in an accident, as he didn’t look like he was going to stop when he realized we didn’t see him. So what, my husband is Asian and the joke is that Asians can’t drive. There’s also a joke that old people shouldn’t drive, should we have said “get your eyes checked old man” or “you people shouldn’t be on the road after 50”? No, if we had it would’ve been appalling and they would talk about how the younger people don’t respect their elders. Yet this man is able to shout racial slurs and people probably wouldn’t care except people that are negatively called “liberals making a big deal out of something minor”. This incident scares me more than I was before about my child being mixed race in this society. I hope that either things change or my children will help make this change.

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When Pregnancy Meets Summer

I’m a bit of a wuss when it comes to heat. I’ve fainted more than a handful of times due to the heat, and it’s not ever even all that hot. I’m fairly certain my body just slowly starts shutting down when it hits 75 degrees, and for every 10 degrees after that I become more miserable. I apologize, I don’t just get more miserable. I become incredibly intolerable as well. I’m a January baby, I love the cold. If whatever means controls the world had wanted me to be a summer baby, they would’ve made me a little less gingery and a little more into beaches and pools.

Last pregnancy, I wasn’t very big at all during the pregnancy only gaining about 10 lbs maybe at most. The summer only bothered me as much as summer normally bothers me. This summer I’m shamefully admitting being an extra 30somethinglbs of baby, and it’s not comfortable at all. In fact, I would rank it pretty low on my comfort scale. I think that my plan on having a child during a time when it can have a party it can enjoy without fear of snow or being too cold backfired on me. Sure he gets a pool party, but I get to sweat through all 5 of my maternity shirts and wish I could just sit around in my underwear in front of my AC, nicely nestled against my bed. Maybe I should get a mini-fridge for there too, so I could just stay in my bedroom all summer long and wait this fetus out.

I can probably take comfort that I’m not the only miserable pregnant woman fighting 90+ degree weather, but I’m a New Englander. I’m used to snow and rain and awful weather, while crying about how humid our summers are wishing to move to Alaska. I won’t go to Alaska though, I saw 30 Days of Night. There’s a political joke in there somewhere, but I’m not touching it. Just like I’m not touching a vampire. Twilight was wrong, vampires aren’t sparkly they just look that way as you transform into one of them. They are just as uninteresting as the movies make them out though.

So while pregnancy books all say “go out and swim and keep hydrated in this heat”, I’ll deal with this my way. I’m going to alternate between laying next to my AC and an ice tub filled bathtub, while wanting to migrate to Canada. If you nuts can go south for the winter to stay in summer heat, I can go north to frenchieland to keep winter. I’d take a fjord over a beach any day.

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And Then, He Went Down

Children are just like us: no matter what, there’s a risk to everything they do. We want them to go out with friends, but I don’t know any parent that doesn’t worry when their child isn’t in their sight. Anything can happen and if something did, we’d second guess our decision to let them be free. The truth of the matter is we can’t bubble wrap them as much as we’d love to. All we can do is protect them in the best way we’re capable of, and hope that fate or whatever you believe in follow suit.

Case in point: putting your child in a sport. Organized sports are an incredible thing for our children. It teaches them sportsmanship and discipline. They get a ton of exercise, and they get to befriend people outside of their little circle at school. I fully support those youth organizations that help our children both physically and mentally. I would dare to argue that putting a child in some sort of organization that teaches discipline and sportsmanship helps that child grow up with team building skills. After all, they do enforce that there is no I in team. For the record and on a side note, I do hate that expression but the song is good.

The downfall of sports is the risk of injury. My son plays baseball, and does well at it. Of course everything has a risk, but the risk always seems higher when your child is just as graceful as you are. And if you’re as impossibly clumsy as I am, you spend more time worrying than you probably should. Every bruise he gets from pretending he’s a goal tender with line drives, I wonder if I should’ve signed him up for a chess team for 9 year-olds. He hits himself clumsily with his bat, and you really second guess this.  He enjoys it though, and it’s something he’d love to continue on with. As much as we fear harm, sometimes we just have to take a deep breath and support them. It could be worse, he could want to be a skateboarder or an X-Game BMX star. On Saturday his team had a game against their bitter rivals, and yes I’m just as in awe that a little league team has bitter rivals that young. His first up at bat was successful, he drove the ball and took the base. The next up at bat he did make it on base, but it was a lot less successful. The batter before him gets hit in the leg, he shakes the leg and takes his base. My son takes the plate, and he’s ready and determined to smack this ball in the outfield. The ball, it had other plans. The pitcher pitches and before my son could react, there he was on the ground. The ball went straight to his head.

As a parent on the sidelines, you don’t have time to react. If we had blinked, we would’ve missed this entirely. We didn’t blink though, and as soon as he went down, he stood up and gave us a thumbs up while running to first base. He was fine, and he was fine because we spent a few extra dollars on a well padded and sturdy helmet. Even though we can’t be there every second, we can still give them the tools to be safe. The bat he uses is second-hand, his batting and catching gloves are the same he’s had since he’s started. This year, we decided with kid’s pitch we’d rather be safe than sorry and bought extra protection for him. That moment, I was thankful we had. I was also thankful we’re crazy parents to know the signs of concussions or head injury. I’m also not ashamed to admit I didn’t sleep that night and constantly checked on him while he was sleeping. Sports are a great activity for your children, but the better thing you can do is to make sure they are well protected because you never know what could happen.

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A Letter To My Unborn Child

Dear Fetus,

Your father and I are overjoyed by the idea of your presence. I’m certain that it was an incredibly happy day when he found out he was going to be a father again. We’ve watched you grow for 29 weeks and it’s been a miraculous journey. However, it occurs to me you’re getting overcrowded in there and sharing a body with another person has become uncomfortable for me too. I would like to propose a small list to make these last few weeks more enjoyable for both of us, because I’m certain that your life will be miserable otherwise.

1) We need to discuss your sleeping. I know that I’m a bit of an insomniac normally, but since pregnancy I’ve grown used to sleeping at night. That was until you decided your prime time for activity occurs during my prime time for sleeping. I’d like you to consider changing your time of activity to daytime so I’m not too tired to feed us both. Cereal is not filling enough, and I’m too self-conscious to go for seconds.

2) I know we all have certain positions we like to sleep in. I appreciate that, except I don’t appreciate that your favorite sleeping position is on the major nerve on either side of me. I enjoy walking, I enjoy not having a searing pain shooting down to my toes. My theory is that this wouldn’t be an issue if you were to change the time of your sleeping. Let’s be reasonable, compromise is something all roommates need to work out.

3) Finally, no I don’t like pepperoncinis, buffalo wings, or artichoke hearts in oil. Don’t make me want them and make me regret ignoring you after, it’s not happening. This proves you already are your father and brother but since neither of them are carrying you, you’re going to have to just deal with it.

With these few requests, I hope that we can learn to live out these next 10 weeks in peace. I promise to continue to make sure your large appetite is well fed with food that doesn’t make me want to vomit. Let’s work in harmony to make this enjoyable for the both of us, because when you’re born I know that we’ll both live in chaos for the first few weeks. A nice, well-rested mother before labor will benefit us both.

Love always,

Mom

P.S. You can’t keep kicking people who “invade your territory”. The doctors need to hear  your heart and see you, and they think you’re a silly little ham of a boy. I think you’re just being a pain in the butt. Prove me wrong.

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Worst Expectations

I have a problem with expectations. Granted I have a problem with a lot of things, so that probably doesn’t shock you much. I blame this on the cynic in me, the part of me that believes the minute you allow yourself to believe something good that the universe finds a way to screw it up. The rest of me doesn’t fare better in this aspect, even the most optimistic part of me. Yeah, that optimistic part of me I pretend I have when things go wrong and I need to assure everyone else everything is ok.

What’s my problem with expectations? In truth, I think one of the worst things you can do in life is go into a situation with expectations. I’m not suggesting you go in with complete ignorance and end up surprised what you’re walking into. I would never suggest a surprise because I hate surprises. For instance, when you vote you’ll ideally know the candidate you want to vote for based (hopefully) on the informed decision you make. However, don’t expect he’ll keep his promises because he’s a man and they lie. (That was a joke.) The real reason is because he’s a politician and they lie.

The main point is expectations on pregnancy, labor, and the result: the child. The worst thing you can do is expect that “you got this” and go in there blind. Even worse, going in there and expecting “I’ve done my research, this is my birth plan and I’m sticking to it”. Why not? Because in life, you can’t expect anything because anything can happen. Sure you might go in expecting that the knowledge made you invincible and that because you’re informed, you can do it without pain medicine. You know what statistically is more likely to happen? You’re going to beg anyone who will listen for relief. If you go in expecting a calm water birth, you’ll probably end up with a scalpel cutting out your insides.

I know you’re probably thinking, “what’s your plan?”. I’m a “just go with it” type of person. I researched what medicine I’d want if I wanted it, and made sure I was ready for any situation that I could come across. Do I want an epidural? I managed the first time without it, I’d like to not have it this time either because I don’t trust anyone with a needle near my spine. In fact, I generally expect the worst. For instance, I imagine this one will be a colicky pain in my butt. If he ends up as angelic as the first one? Well I’ll be pleasantly proven wrong and I’m ok with that.

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A Lesson All Men Should Learn

Recently I was at a BBQ with my friends and my husband. One friend asked me  how the pregnancy was going and I responded how well it was. I then began to mention about how awesome my husband was, how I hadn’t experienced insane mood swings, and I felt generally pretty good. In mentioning how awesome my husband was I noted that I could have a craving and before I could say I wanted it, I had it. My friend laughed and said “that’s called ‘preventative maintenance’. You stop the problem before it even starts.” He laughed mentioning if he knew then what he knew now.

That idea of preventative maintenance was hilarious to me. What am I, a car? When I stopped laughing at that idea, I realized that it’s true. Maybe that’s why my husband is a unique and incredible person that convinced me to marry him. I never had a moment of “oh I wish”, because before I could wish it I was given it. He knows something no other guy I have ever met knows: prevent the argument by figuring out exactly what she wants before saying it. It seems so simple, and yet so complicated. It’s almost ingenious. Is she feeling stressed? I know, I’ll do the dishes for her. Imagine how easier life would be with your partner if they figured out this secret to relationships!

I can’t help but to brag. It’s like when your children do something amazing and you just want to tell the world. I think men should take a lesson from him, and realize it’s easier to prevent the problem then buy flowers and jewelry after you screw up. Maybe you should think of us as cars that need regular maintenance to stay in happy condition. And if we’re happy, your life is a little less miserable. This goes double true for your pregnant wife, because we all know how insane things can get with hormones very quickly. Does this sound a little sexist? Probably, but just because it sounds sexist, doesn’t mean there’s no truth in anything I just said. Remember men, “preventative maintenance”. Maybe she’ll let you get that you’ve wanted.