1. (Bewildering) Truck parked across the street from our house, presumably involved in some sort of construction/renovation. Yolk-yellow, scuffed-up plastic testicles dangling from the rear bumper. Why? At one point in time this sort of accessory may have seemed clever or maverick or whatever, but now it just strikes me as sad.
2. (Troubling) Those who despise Hillary Clinton. Again, why? I have friends, Democrats even, women even, those who would likely describe themselves as liberals, who spew such intense vitriol when her name is mentioned that I can just barely tolerate the "discussion." Granted, I went for Obama in the primary and generally prefer his approach to Clinton's, but I would have gleefully skipped to the polls to vote for either one of them. But I guess, as a whole, we still do hate women that much.
3. ( Unacceptable) Yesterday, as I checked in to my bi-monthly OB appointment, the receptionist gestured to a box on the floor full of black bags and asked if I would like to have one. I saw what looked like a picture of a bottle on the cover of one of the bags, so I bypassed my immediate impulse to always accept free stuff and asked what was in the bags. Formula samples, she replied. I politely declined her offer and she gazed at me, obviously bewildered. "But they're free," she said.
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Today I am 34 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I am ready to be done. I envy those women who love being pregnant, because I truly don't. More than the physical discomforts I dislike the emotional issues, the anxiety, the waiting, my inexplicable inability to write or read anything even remotely reflective while gestating. Last time, when I became pregnant with Sydney, I had been working on several short stories and writing consistently, reflectively, powerfully I thought, every day. No sooner than the pee hit the stick did I dry up entirely--I couldn't write, couldn't think, couldn't sit down and do it. I've had a similar experience this time, as evidenced by my hiatus from the blogosphere. At first I blamed it on confidentiality: I hadn't told any of my clients I was pregnant, and I couldn't imagine not blogging about the pregnancy. But even after they were all told, after everyone knew, I found myself coming up empty. What is that? Why does that happen?
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2 comments:
(Refreshing) I dunno why that happens, but it's nice to hear your voice, even a frustrated and overwhelmed one, and know a little of what's goin on with you, plastic testes and all.
eo
I hated being pregnant, too. I pretty much forced myself to take a graduate level course online, but my brain was Swiss cheese, too. It's a miracle I did as well as I did with it, especially since my son was born shortly before the final paper was due. If it weren't for my husband the noodge, I probably wouldn't have finished that, either.
Some studies have said the brain scrambling is our way of readjusting our priorities towards parenthood. If that's true, why are there so many clueless people who have kids, including myself? ;-) All I could do during my nine months was pray to God to please give me an appetite, please not make me vomit for the umpteenth time and GIVE ME MY BRAIN BACK!
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