Jami Howls at the Concrete Moon

I have, throughout this pregnancy, complained a bit. Some jokingingly, some less so. Because really, isn't pregnancy a time when you should get to be a diva? I am growing new life and therefore it should be all about me. To some extent, when I'm complaining in the not-so-funny way, I have a twinge of guilt. Yes, I know that there are people who would be thrilled to have the problems I'm having because that would mean they are about to be parents. Yes, the problems I've had so far have been non-life-threatening for both me and little Gurgle here. But you know what, I'm still going to complain because frankly, I'm having a tough time and I want to. If you haven't been with me through the whole thing, here's my brief recap - because I had miscarried some time ago, I was on pins and needles until my first ultrasound. Oh wait - first I had the doctor who didn't want to see me right away, who then told me that I couldn't have an u/s until 12 weeks, even though I was "high risk" (meaning I'll be 35 before my due date) and have already had a miscarriage. So then I switch to the midwives, get what I think is a date for an u/s to see the heartbeat, and spend two weeks holding my breath - only to find out that they won't be doing it that day, just had an appointment to meet the midwives so they could order an u/s for me. AHHH! Then they wanted me to wait another week, which caused my first major freakout, and they got me scheduled for a few days later. Then, I got the u/s and saw the heartbeat, yay, but also got the results of my bloodwork that the pregnancy was aggravating my thyroid which meant - more tests, medication and regular blood draws. Still, I took this in stride. That's when the extreme fatigue, nasal congestion, breast pain and aversions hit me. All *normal* pregnancy symptoms but overall made me less than pleasant, I'll admit. The fatigue never faded, the congestions just grows worse, the aversions didn't go all the way away, but at least my breast pain subsided, just in time for some "round ligament pain". Another normal, but majorly uncomfortable symptom. you know when an athlete tears a ligament and is out of the game for awhile? Just have one stretch in a very inconvenient place and where you can't really "rest" it. Sigh. Oh, and about that same time, my skin went CRAZY - I have so much oil on my face I'm afraid to get close to candles. I look like the teenage boy in the Simpsons. I wash my face twice a day, use the oxy I haven't bought since high school and blot with those little papers constantly, not that it helps. AND I started growing a HAIR on my NECK - eeeeewwwww!!!! Then we add the constant peeing - only about every, I don't know, 19 minutes it seems like. Okay, it's not quite that bad, but I rarely get more than 2 hours sleep in a row because I wake up feeling like I'm about to burst. Add to this the fact that the baby's favorite activity is KICKING my bladder. Next time you really, really have to pee, have someone poke you repeatedly in the bladder. That's what it's like. Not hard, just not nice. Of course, most recently was the gestational diabetes. I'm not even going to start on that particular hell, except to note that my fingers are all slightly blue and I can't wait to eat like a normal person again. Then when the humidity and heat finally kicked in, my ankles and feet decided to swell. It looks gross and the skin on my feet starts to feel nice and tight, like when you have a sunburn. Last week, I noticed a little piece of skin growing sort of randomly on my leg. I asked the midwife, who checked it out - it's a "skin tag" which is basically harmless, but gross looking and again "a perfectly normal symptom of pregnancy". You know what? I've had more than enough perfectly normal symptoms of this pregnancy. Today I had an ultrasound where the baby measured a little big. Of course, those things are not 100% and IMO, means very little. So the doctor that I have to see because of my other stupid complications wants to do an amniocentesis and induce pretty soon - which pretty much goes against every thing I want for this birth. It's the last straw, I feel like. I'm screaming inside. It's not fair - I did everything right. I ate right, I exercised. I read all the books, I did my freaking Kegels!!!! I lost weight and got into better eating habits before I was pregnant. I stayed off caffeine through the WHOLE FIRST TRIMESTER. And I can't even go one stinking week without developing some new just-south-of-horrible problem! All I wanted was a healthy baby boy. It doesn't seem like that should be that much to ask. I didn't expect a perfect fun pregnancy, but I wish I could feel like I enjoyed it for a solid week, you know? That I could look back on this time like "wasn't it neat? Wasn't it fun and exciting?" Maybe I still will, but here, mired here in the middle, I just can't and that makes me saddest of all.

Jami Loves the Steelers, But . .

Still wouldn't put this hat on her child. That's all for now. More if I ever have more than 10 seconds to sit at the laptop.

Jami and the Mothering Skills

If we're being truthful, all moms will admit that we have our moments that we're glad CYS didn't see - one in particular for me, when my son decided he would play "doggie" stripped down to his skivvies, attached the dog's leash and was drinking out of the bowl in the backyard when I found him. I am not certain, but I'd guess that if the neighbors had called and said that we had our toddler chained up in the back, in his tighty-whities drinking out of a dog bowl that we'd at least get a brief visit from a nice social worker. Every mom I've had a conversation with has admitted to saying or doing something and almost instantly regretting it. We're human, unfortunately. So it's no wonder that we will all ourselves the question, at some point, "Am I being a good enough mom?" If you don't ask that, then I really would wonder if you are. Then we have the times like this morning, where I was stiting on the floor, playing Legos with Eddie and decided to put the TV on to listen to while we played (partially because playing Eddie often turns into watching Eddie, but not being allowed to touch any of the Legos because I'm "doing it wrong"). I happened upon a show called "Toddlers and Tiaras" which the Husband had TiVo'd for me. I enjoy the teen-adult pageants and I absolutely abhor the itty-bitty-kiddy ones. Even knowing that the Husband set this up to get me all riled, I started it up. The first mom starts off seeming oh-so-reasonable. Her four-year-old has only been to 5 or 6 pageants and the little girls says "Sometimes we don't win and that's okay. We just say 'Oh well'. And then sometimes we do win and we get very excited." The mom follows up by saying that they never "practice" more than 15 minutes at a time and they don't force her to do anything she doesn't want to. Hmmm,I think, could this be the Voice of Reason for this show? No. Of course not. In what I can only call snarky editing, the next scene is her yelling at the little girl for not practicing her "slow walk" and then threatening to send her to bed in the middle of the afternoon because she doesn't want to "play pageant" any more. Sigh. Then they go buy 2 dresses that "start at" $650, though we aren't given an actual figure. Then they go to *private* dance class, so she can work on her poise and "pretty feet". Hmmmph. And still - this was the more reasonable mom, I thought. After watching what I can only call the train-wreck-style of parenting, I feel confident that I am one seriously kick-butt mom. And I find myself justified in offering just a few tips to the parents (yes, there were dads into this, too - one in particular who was worse than the mom): 1. Your 4-year-old should never EVER be wearing false eyelashes, a bikini and suggestively shaking her hips. There can be no justification for your toddler to be sashaying around like a drunken Britney Spears. Never. 2. 2 year-olds don't have "life ambitions" or "life goals" so let's drop that little bit of nonsense. They've barely had a LIFE, let alone the capacity to make plans. "Charlene loves animals and her life's goal is to become a veterinarian"?? No. Charlene needs to learn to use the potty and her ABCs. Charlene's life ambition is to stay up past 7:30 and eat an entire bag of lollipops when you're not looking. 3. If your child is less than a week old, he/she does NOT need to be competing. Seriously, they showed a THREE DAY OLD baby competing in the fancy dress competition. 3 day-olds don't "enjoy the pageants"'; they don't like dressing up. They like eating, pooping and being cuddled. 4. No child needs a dress that costs more than a used car. The grand prize in this pageant was $500. The woman who makes the custom-made sequined-covered monstrosities these children were shoved into said that they start at $650, but are usually more. So, even if you are the ONE winner in this pageant of maybe 100 girls, you lose $150 just on the clothing, and don't forget the dance lessons, "bathing outfit", hair pieces (most had one), fake teeth (for those in various stage of normal teeth-losing), make up artists (several girls had pros - even the 5 year-olds), the mani-pedi (they all had), and of course the time, effort and money getting to the pageant - oh - plus entry fees. So I'd guess, if you're lucky and you win the whole shebang, you're down only $1000-$1500 for the day. Whoo hoo. You win. Lastly, on a really serious note - you are encouraging your baby girls to be sexy. Not only is this sick and wrong and encouraging to pedophiles everywhere, but look, you've got a seriously limited amount of time when your little ones are actually little. If you want to play dress up at home and let her spin around in a big fluffy princess dress with sparkly shoes, that's great. Get her a whole box of boas and tiaras and fairy wings and let her go nuts. But mid-drift baring bathing suits, gowns where they can't put their arms down, so much make up that you yell at them if they cry because they're going to mess it up - these aren't things preschoolers should even know about. No kindergartner should have to sit still for eyelash curling or lip-lining. No one who can't even cross the street alone should know how to walk in high heels. Don't grow them up so fast, because they will spend the rest of their lives being grown up. Let her decide to compete in the pageants when she's old enough to handle the rejection and you've taught her the many other valuable parts of herself. And for the love of all that is holy, stop doing the routine in the back of the room facing her while she's on stage. You're just making yourself even more ridiculous.

Jami Hates Planned Helplessness

I have been accused, at times, of lacking mercy for those who are "helpless" in various situations. And to some extent this is true. I have great compassion for people who find themselves in need, and strive to remedy their situations. I've lost jobs, and it can be devastating. A friend's husband had an unexpected, surprising heart condition which shook their family to the core in a number of ways, and I did what little I could for them. There are times when lightning does strike (metaphorically, and literally) and for those people, I have pity and concern. This came to mind today as I overheard an older woman talk about how if her children or grandchildren don't come over to put gas in her car, she just has to find a place with full service, because she never learned to pump gas and she "just can't at this point. What if I do it wrong and the gas sprays everywhere? It could blow up. And I don't know how to use a credit card to pay, it looks like way too much to learn." Now, I have pumped my own gas exactly twice in the last 12 years. I have the Husband who shows his love by making sure my tank is full. But I know how. What if the day comes when I need to know? Would I rather learn it now or in a crisis? I was reminded of when one of our relatives was widowed and became helpless; she didn't know what any of her bills were. She didn't know where her checkbook was or how to fill out a check. She didn't know what anything cost or how much money she had, either saved or coming in. This woman had no mental disabilities or problems, no real health issues; she simply had allowed others to step in and care for her until she could no longer do so herself - other relatives continued to "run her life" until she died. Lucky for her, they were good people. Think how very badly that could have gone. This is the kind of helplessness for which I have a lack of compassion. A teenager in my youth group years ago who had siblings do everything for her. She would try something once and if she failed or it didn't go the way she wanted or it got "too hard", she gave up, cried "impossible" and found someone else to do it for her. This was a 7th grader who had her big sister zipping up her coat when the zipper didn't zip up the first try. A relatively bright girl, her mother wondered why she had a hard time in school. How do you say, "because you've let her be a 13-year-old infant"? To me, this is the same as people who spend their lives on welfare, section 8, medicaid, and SSI, not because they are actually disabled in a meaningful way, but because they have planned to be helpless and been taught that they can not do for themselves. We do them no favors by giving them that which they could earn. Abraham Lincoln said it best, I think, "You cannot help people permanently by doing for them, what they could and should do for themselves." You cannot gain pride in ownership of what you haven't worked for. You can't be proud of yourself when you have accomplished nothing and believe you will never accomplish anything. I don't mean great deeds, I mean the satisfaction of completing something, anything, yourself - especially something you didn't think you could. There are things I will never be able to do, but there are things I didn't know I could do, until I did. Working for something is a gift we deny people when we rush to rescue them. Compassion doesn't always mean blindly given what is requested, sometimes true compassion lies in denying help to someone who would be better served struggling for the goal.

Jami Answers to Mommy

You know it's bad when you catch yourself sorting socks and saying "Eddie, Eddie, Mommy, Eddie, Mommy" even when you're alone. I'm not one of those mothers who has lost her identity completely, I still have friends, interests, even occasional outings that have nothing to do with motherhood. But definitely, mommying takes over your life in a way nothing else possibly can. I can remember being desperate to hear "Mama" fall from Eddie's lips. Any honest mom will tell you about waiting for that first child to call you Mommy. You daydream about it. You wonder when it will happen; you "sort of" hear it in the ramblings and then suddenly - there it is! The first "Mama"! Your baby knows you, acknowledges you as a person! I bet 99% of us, if we're telling the truth, will have to admit to tearing up a little. Eddie actually said "Mum" because he went through a phase where he shortened all words to one syllable. I remember it. Before long it was Mommy. And then comes the day when you think if I hear "Mommmmeeeeeee" one more time, I'm getting on the next plane leaving this city for anywhere. One brilliant friend of mine told her two boys that her name was no longer Mommy. If they could guess what her new name is, then she'd answer. She had a nice quiet dinner. It pains me, to some extent, to think how that grates on me some days, because I know how horribly I'll miss it when I'm just "Mom" or "uh, hunh, whatever". Mommy is such a short-lived title, in the scheme of things. How many of you call your mom "Mommy"? I try to remind myself of that on the days when I'm thinking of gagging him, just for a few hours . . . We need to live in the moment to love our lives, but sometimes we get so caught in the moment that we forget that it is, just a moment - fleeting and precious.

Jami Avoids Samonella

For those who missed my FB posts, here's the chicken that the Husband and I cooked this afternoon: On the grill:

Finished Product: The Husband put it on the grill and went to take a shower, telling me to check on it in "a little bit", not sure, maybe 7-8 minutes later, I smell campfire, go out back to find - 1. Chicken on fire 2. Neighbor in backyard calling 911 I assured her that there was no need for the fire department (especially since we're related to one of the firemen). She seemed more worried that I was laughing at the chicken than about the fire itself, asking me three times "Are you SURE you're okay?" me: "He he he he- I'm fine - the chicken, well. It's probably done." We had leftover pizza. The good news is that once the chicken cools, the meat may be salvageable. The skin was on fire, but most of the meat under it looks okay.

Jami Recommends a Few You May Have Missed

There are the movies you know everyone has heard of, at least, if not seen. Maybe you didn't get around to Spiderman 3, but I'd bet you knew it existed. So, as the rains pour down at least here in Pittsburgh, let me suggest a few movies that you should check out, which you might not even have heard of. 1. So I Married an Axe Murderer. I'm always surprised that people haven't heard of this one, as it's probably Mike Myers funniest and definitely sweetest movie. Myers is a beat poet living in San Francisco who dumps girlfriends before they can get too serious by finding something wrong with each one (like "she smelled like soup"). When he meets the girl who may be "The One" he begins to suspect that she's a serial killer. A hilarious supporting cast, including Myers as his character's own belligerent Scottish father and the late Phil Hartman in a brief but memorable turn as "Vicki", make the outrageous turns in the plot fun and exciting. 2. SuperTroopers. You may not have heard of the comedy troupe Broken Lizard, but if you can deal with some fairly bad language, sex jokes and amusing drug use, you'll adore this movie. When the Husband and I saw this in the theatres, I think there were about 6 other people present, but there were still parts that the laughter was so loud you missed the next line. The movie follows a small band of state troopers in a tiny, boring town in Vermont as they keep themselves amused and maintain a rivalry with the "townie" police. When both sets of cops come across a murder, the plot and hilarity takes off. WARNING - as I mentioned, this is NOT a movie for people with PG sensibilities. 3. Death at a Funeral and Eulogy. I'm going to group these ones together, because both are very dark comedies focused around the funeral of the family patriarch. Eulogy features a formidable cast including the always fantastic Hank Azaria, Zooey Deschanel, Famke Janseen, Ray Romano, Rip Torn and Debra Winger. Death at a Funeral has a lot of British actors I didn't know, plus America's own Alan Tudyk (sporting an English accent and at one point, nothing else) in a comedy of horrible mishaps that had me laughing out loud even though I saw it by myself. It also features character actor Peter Dinklage, in at least one movie-stealing scene that will leave you unsure whether to gasp or howl with laughter. 4. Sky High. This is a good one for the whole family. At the secret high school for teenage superheros, Will Stronghold is the son of the two most famous heroes, who hasn't discovered his powers yet. The varied cast includes Kurt Russell, Bruce Campbell and Dave Foley and there's enough plot and humor that you'll enjoy it regardless of age. 5. Enemy of the State. This might have been a bigger release, though I don't recall it at the time. Gene Hackman, Will Smith, Jon Voight and Regina King head up the cast, but look for Jack Black, Seth Green and Jason Lee as well. Humor, action and, IMO, a decent amount of justified paranoia keep this action movie really moving. And let me just say again . . Will Smith. 6. Shaun of the Dead. The funniest zombie movie I've seen to date; working drone Shaun and his slacker roommate Ed find themselves in the midst of a zombie-filled London, trying to save their loved ones from the undead menace. Like Romero's dead movies, there is a message as well as some riotously funny action. A few AHH! moments, but this movie isn't scary. Starring and partially written by Simon Pegg (Scottie from the new Star Trek), you'll never laugh so hard at dead people. 7. A Mighty Wind. All of the Christopher Guest partially-improv-driven comedies are golden, but this is my favorite. Featuring some of your favorite actors actually singing and playing their own instruments, the movie is a mockumentary about a folk music concert being staged in the memory of a deceased promoter. As usual for Guest's movies, look for Eugene Levy, Fred Willard, Michael McKean, Parker Posey, Harry Shearer and Catherine O'Hara, some very catchy songs, and subtle but hysterical lines. 8. Drop Dead Gorgeous. See Kirsten Dunst and Denise Richards compete in the American Teen Princess local pageant in Mt. Rose, Minnesota. I can't even begin to describe to you what happens without giving away plot points, but you won't see any of it coming. Cast members also include Ellen Barkin, a still-skinny Kirstie Alley, Amy Adams, Mindy Sterling and Brittany Murphy. I could go on and on, but I think that's a good list for you to start with. Some honorable mentions: Mars Attacks (spoof of the 50s alien invasion movies) Clue (if you somehow missed it in the 80s) UHF (Weird Al's classic) Also, if you STILL haven't seen Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog, go to do so NOW. It's about 45 minutes and I absolutely guarantee that it is the best musical blog about a supervillian that you'll ever see.

Jami Spots Another Silly Sign

Giant Eagle grocery stores join the abstinence movement:

Jami Wants Your Opinion

Years ago, I had a friend who was one of those friends you are certain will be a friend for life. You've pictured her sharing in the life moments ahead - weddings, children, hard times, good times. You've already been there for each other through ups and downs on both sides and it's not one of those friendships that you can imagine fading. Then, she hit a particularly tough patch. Nothing I'd wish on an enemy, and certainly not on a friend. I can't prove I did all I could, but I supported her in every way I could think of, and here's the interesting part - once she had come safely through the worst of it, she ditched me. Stopped returning calls, started cancelling plans at the last minute and never rescheduling. I took the message and let her slip away. Turns out this happened with several of the people who helped her through that time. I won't lie, I hurt over it. Mourned the loss. Questioned my actions, wondered about forcing the issue. But in the end, I said goodbye, I healed, I moved on. Of course, these are the days of FaceBook. And today, her face and name popped up. We have mutual friends. FB thinks we should be friends. I wonder, have I been suggested to her and she's not interested? Maybe she remembers and is embarrassed about how things went - I would be. My instinct is to ignore the suggestion, confirm her as a friend if she adds me, but not go after her. Honestly, I'm vaguely curious as to what she's been up to, but it's not going to keep me up tonight. So what do you think? Am I being petty not friending the one who de-friended me in real life? Or would it be sort of weird to reach out to someone who made it clear they weren't interested, even if that was going on a decade ago? Or am I nuts to even ponder this? It's just Facebook, Jami - who cares who you "friend"? Discuss.

Jami the Un-Journalist

I've always been a writer, since, I guess, I could write. I've always made up stories just to amuse myself and I do like playing with words. I like getting the sounds just right. So, in high school, when you start to think about what you'll be someday, and you get past the unrealistic stuff, like I'm going to be a famous actress/singer/astronaut and work with children, my thoughts turned to journalism. I like action, I like writing and the school newspaper seemed like it would be a natural fit. I took Journalism 1 and 2 and did fine. However, I learned two important things: 1. They don't like it when you make up the endings (or even middle) to make it a better story and 2. You can't put much of "yourself" into the story, if you know what I mean. Most working journalists who aren't opinion columnists don't get to have a very distinctive style, IMO. Maybe you think I'm wrong and that you can tell just reading the first 'graph who the byline will be, but mostly it's a standard, flair-less pursuit. In high school, I often would be looking for just the right quote to fill out an article and I found a great method. I'd find a friend, explain my story and say "Could I quote you as saying . . . " and miraculously I always got just the quote I needed. I believe this may stretch the boundaries of good journalistic ethics. I do sometimes wonder how I'd have done in the field. Perhaps I'd have found a niche, like sports reporting where you can add some more personality. Or maybe I'd be Dave Barry with a better haircut. Due to some confusion during my Journ 2 class, I didn't get to try my hand at column writing, which probably would have been my best bet. I soured on the whole newsprint thing and went to college to major in the Discipline of Speech Communications, with a Focus on Broadcasting (is what my curriculum was entitled) intent on directing TV news. Along the way, I fell in love with radio, and even though I interned in TV, I stuck with radio for quite a few years after that. My radio work led me to the job I had in software design, a field I surely never considered. Isn't it odd the path life leads you down?

Jami Hurts for the Families

I had another post started when the news came down about a shooting here in Pittsburgh, actually not far from where I live. Not walking distance or anything, but close enough that the helicopters overhead alerted me that something was wrong. If you haven't heard, the article is here - a man walked into an aerobics dance class at a gym, turned out the lights and started shooting. They *think* he killed himself as well. Last I've heard so far is 5 confirmed dead. Rumors are that the teacher of the class was pregnant and shot, but no word on her condition. I'm heartsick. These are the times we remember how capricious and precious life is. Who would think that attending a class at a gym is a dangerous place to be? Why this class and not another, why this gym? We probably won't know and the truth is it doesn't really matter. It is, it was, and knowing won't change it, won't prevent another, won't save your life or mine. I also hope, as wrong as it may sound to those who are of a different mindset, that the guy did kill himself. Actually, I wish he'd done so earlier, before taking innocent lives with him, but I hope he is dead, because what he took from others, he doesn't deserve to have. Time to say goodbye, a second chance at things, hope. You might think I lack compassion, but my compassion is not for the one who destroys lives, but for those who lives are forever damaged. For the childless mother, the widowed lover, the friend who won't be coming for tea tomorrow. I don't want to know his name and I hope I don't learn it. I never learned the names of the killers at columbine because that's what they wanted and I won't give them even that. I hope we don't his crying family on TV - yes, they hurt, too and I'm sorry for them, but he doesn't deserve it. I can't stand when those NOT involved, injured or mourning start with the "We Forgive You" signs and crap. You can't forgive what wasn't done to you. Save your compassion for those he broke, not for him. And for those families, I'm so, so sorry. Your hearts are breaking in a way I cannot and hope to never understand. I pray for healing for the injured and comfort for those who have lost someone. And I pray that the next scum-licking loser who thinks this is his ticket to immortality will simply remove himself from this earth and not people who choose to still live, even when it's hard.

Jami, The Mom

How much of a mommy am I? Flipping through the Fredrick's catalog, I saw this shirt,

and thought . . .

"That would probably be convenient for breastfeeding."