I just have to get this one off my chest.
A girl who graduated with me had a baby her junior year of high school. She was the Teen Mom of our school...glamorous, always looked great and none too bright. Everybody was thrilled when they found out she was keeping the baby, even though she was only 17 and her foster parents would have to do most of the childcare. But she didn't care a whit and floated effortlessly through labor and the rest of high school. This evening I logged on to Facebook to this:
Oh. Em. Gee. You're telling me you are nineteen years old with a twenty year old boyfriend, a two year old son, and you are trying for a second child?!?! What in the heck is wrong with you?! You don't need another baby, you need counseling! Jeebus. I'm seriously amazed at the stupidity of my classmates. This is why people form Tea Parties and vote for Sarah Palin. Because their two children under the ages of 5 have sucked their brain cells out...if they had any to begin with.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Da Wizdom Toof Advenshure
I didn't mean to look all pitiful and stuff. Really. But I was still kind of woozy from the anesthetic. So, here is Chipmunk Gigi.
This was yesterday, about 3 hours post-op. Puffy cheeks, glazed eyes....yep, looks like a wisdom tooth surgery.
I was pretty nervous, this being my first surgery ever. Would I embarrass myself? Would I be in agony? What if I turned out to be one of those rare people who can feel the pain but is under the anesthetic so they can't say or do anything?
Dad picked up Boyfriend and me a little before 8:30. It was a quiet two hour drive to the oral surgeon I'd been recommended to see.
And I was hungry. We stopped at Burger King and I eyed Dad's breakfast sandwich enviously, knowing it would be days before I could handle solid food.
The two of them came to sit with me while I was getting prepped for surgery, which was heartening. I was terrified, and the heart monitor showed it. But, as Boyfriend the Medic pointed out, my blood oxygen level was "prefect." Cool.
I'd also never had an IV put in me before, (believe me, Boyfriend has offered) so that was new. It felt like cooling menthol in my arm, and it was not altogether unpleasant. The surgeon arrived (my heart rate spiked), Dad and Boyfriend left, and the go-to-sleep stuff was put in the IV. I wanted to be aware of every moment as I fell asleep. It was strange, not at all like drifting gently off. I got very dizzy and it was lights out for this girl.
The first thing I can remember after coming to is the nurse showing Boyfriend in. I think I remember trying to smile. He later told me I was pretty silly. I sang "my milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard," when Boyfriend said we could go get a milkshake later if I wanted. I also told him I had "Big Yellow Taxi" by Counting Crows in my head, which had been playing at BK, and sang, "They paved paradise and put up a parking lot." I told Boyfriend I had to pee, he asked if I'd need help, and apparently I glared at him and said, "I can wipe my own butt." Good thing Dad wasn't in the room at the time.
We stopped at a gas station for me to pee and get a blue slushie, which I could barely get in my mouth. That's one thing I did not expect: not being able to open my mouth more than a half inch. Nor did I expect the sore throat, which has yet to go away.
My best friends throughout the experience have been Boyfriend, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, milkshakes, and hydrocodone. Ohhh, I love that hydrocodone. It makes the pain go from "Owwww this really sucks" to "yeah, it hurts." I am also thoroughly enjoying the high-end Snuggie Boyfriend gave me for my birthday.
Well, I'm going to try to tackle some mac n cheese. So far my greatest accomplishment has been mashed potatoes. Mmmmm...
This was yesterday, about 3 hours post-op. Puffy cheeks, glazed eyes....yep, looks like a wisdom tooth surgery.
I was pretty nervous, this being my first surgery ever. Would I embarrass myself? Would I be in agony? What if I turned out to be one of those rare people who can feel the pain but is under the anesthetic so they can't say or do anything?
Dad picked up Boyfriend and me a little before 8:30. It was a quiet two hour drive to the oral surgeon I'd been recommended to see.
And I was hungry. We stopped at Burger King and I eyed Dad's breakfast sandwich enviously, knowing it would be days before I could handle solid food.
The two of them came to sit with me while I was getting prepped for surgery, which was heartening. I was terrified, and the heart monitor showed it. But, as Boyfriend the Medic pointed out, my blood oxygen level was "prefect." Cool.
I'd also never had an IV put in me before, (believe me, Boyfriend has offered) so that was new. It felt like cooling menthol in my arm, and it was not altogether unpleasant. The surgeon arrived (my heart rate spiked), Dad and Boyfriend left, and the go-to-sleep stuff was put in the IV. I wanted to be aware of every moment as I fell asleep. It was strange, not at all like drifting gently off. I got very dizzy and it was lights out for this girl.
The first thing I can remember after coming to is the nurse showing Boyfriend in. I think I remember trying to smile. He later told me I was pretty silly. I sang "my milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard," when Boyfriend said we could go get a milkshake later if I wanted. I also told him I had "Big Yellow Taxi" by Counting Crows in my head, which had been playing at BK, and sang, "They paved paradise and put up a parking lot." I told Boyfriend I had to pee, he asked if I'd need help, and apparently I glared at him and said, "I can wipe my own butt." Good thing Dad wasn't in the room at the time.
We stopped at a gas station for me to pee and get a blue slushie, which I could barely get in my mouth. That's one thing I did not expect: not being able to open my mouth more than a half inch. Nor did I expect the sore throat, which has yet to go away.
My best friends throughout the experience have been Boyfriend, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, milkshakes, and hydrocodone. Ohhh, I love that hydrocodone. It makes the pain go from "Owwww this really sucks" to "yeah, it hurts." I am also thoroughly enjoying the high-end Snuggie Boyfriend gave me for my birthday.
Well, I'm going to try to tackle some mac n cheese. So far my greatest accomplishment has been mashed potatoes. Mmmmm...
Friday, December 24, 2010
Happy Hanuchrismazaa
This has to be the hardest, weirdest, busiest December of my life. When I was a kid, December was the best month of all. My birthday and the end of school and Christmas combined to make December an exciting, joyful time of year.
I'm grieving for my grandmother. Rose Boffa Hoskin died at 89 on the afternoon of December 10, 2010. She was very ill, but she passed away peacefully.
This is the only digital photo of her I could find. It was last summer, when the family gathered by the lake in Michigan to celebrate Independence Day and summer and family. We were spending an afternoon at the beach. I remember how everyone fussed over Grandma, making sure she had something to drink, keeping her in the shade. My aunt Pat put the towel over her legs to make sure her feet wouldn't sunburn. You can see it all in her eyes. At that moment, she is satisfied. Her family surrounds her, it's a beautiful day. I can almost hear her sigh in comfort.
I could write a book about her and my memories of her, but I'll just give out tastes in later blog posts. I think it's a good way to keep her memory alive.
Boyfriend and I moved into our first apartment two days after my 19th birthday. It was especially hard because we had almost nobody help us. Except for his brother helping move the bed and couch, we were on our own. But we're very glad to have our own little lovenest, even if the price is higher than we would like. Boyfriend has been wonderful about helping with the cooking and cleaning, which is very nice to see. Speaking of nice to see!
Why yes, that is my birthstone! (Blue topaz.) Why yes, it is the most expensive piece of jewelry I've ever owned! Why yes, Boyfriend did give it to me! :) (insert swooning, goofy smiles and weak knees here.)
The end of the semester was insane. I was feeling better, but I could tell the mono wasn't gone. (There are times when I'm still not sure it's gone.) I had papers and projects due. Oddly, only two of my classes, English and Prealgebra, required me to sit down in a classroom and take a paper final. But this meant I had a term paper due for History, a huge written lab for Bio, and a final paper for Reporting and Newswriting. To say I was stressed is an understatement. My hard work paid off, mostly.
English 1010: A
Reporting and Newswriting: A
Publications Production (Trail): A
History: B
Prealgebra: B
Biology: D
Yeah, I know. I cringed at the biology grade too. But a B in math! Hallelujah!
And then there's Christmas. It officially begins in about half an hour, but for me it's already over. My brother was only in town from Sunday until this morning, so my parents both wanted to have Christmas with him. Naturally, my dad wanted to hog all of my brother's time here. We had present opening Monday night before the Chicago Bears crushed the Minnesota Vikings. Mom only got about a day and a half with him before we were shipped off to Dad's. The three of us had a small celebration (if you could call it that) and opened presents. Dad apologized for the lack of gifts. It made me feel...uncomfortable. A man should never have to apologize for what he didn't give.
I came to Mom's for Christmas Eve, which has been extremely fun. We laughed a lot, ate traditional Christmas Eve pasta with clams, and opened tons of presents.
Boyfriend called me, and I opened the gift from him. And guess what? I'm getting fish!! He bought me a fish tank and said we're going to pick out fish together!! And if we can handle fish, we're going to seriously consider getting a hedgehog!
I got other wonderful things, too, like a handheld mixer, a crockpot, jewelry, money, and a lovely warm coat.
So...if anyone besides Boyfriend reads this, I wish you a Merry Christmas. If you don't celebrate Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa or Happy Hanukkah or whatever it is you celebrate. And if you don't celebrate anything, then I hope you have a good day. Everyone deserves at least one really solid good day out of all the days in a year, after all.
Peace on Earth, guys.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Sneaky Spleen
I have never been so aware of my spleen. Seriously, a three days ago you could have asked me to locate it and I'd just point in the general abdominal area. Now I know...it's tucked up under my left rib, but part of it comes down into my tummy. And I can feel it. Every time I laugh or burp or sneeze or yawn. It doesn't hurt, there's just a lot of pressure. I imagine this is sort of what pregnancy feels like...a pressure, a weight inside the body where before there was nothing out of the ordinary. On the upside, this pressure won't last nine months. On the downside, it won't end with something as wonderful as a baby.
Seven days until Gigi's 19th. Boyfriend went shopping this morning, Dad's asked what I want and beyond that I don't know anything. I'm hoping to get the usual cards with money inside. Boyfriend are going to need to eat eventually, after all. Turkey doesn't hold out for long.
Urgh. The Massive Headache has returned. It's been a companion of mine for about five days now. And does Tylenol take care of it? Of course not.
Stop complaining, Gigi. It could be worse.
Bah humbug.
OH!! Breaking news! Mom is getting out the Christmas tree to decorate! I love decorating Christmas trees!
Seven days until Gigi's 19th. Boyfriend went shopping this morning, Dad's asked what I want and beyond that I don't know anything. I'm hoping to get the usual cards with money inside. Boyfriend are going to need to eat eventually, after all. Turkey doesn't hold out for long.
Urgh. The Massive Headache has returned. It's been a companion of mine for about five days now. And does Tylenol take care of it? Of course not.
Stop complaining, Gigi. It could be worse.
Bah humbug.
OH!! Breaking news! Mom is getting out the Christmas tree to decorate! I love decorating Christmas trees!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Nothing Rhymes With Mono
What has two thumbs and mononucleosis?
Yep. Yours truly has the kissing disease. Yaaaaaaaay.
(Thanks a lot, Boyfriend. I don't know if you gave it to me but I'm blaming you anyway.)
La Madre picked me up this afternoon to come home for Thanksgivin'. She took one look at my enormous left lymph node (it's covered up by my hair in the picture) and decided we needed to go see a doctor. Two and a half hours, one disgusted nurse, one painful throat swab and a needle in my vein later, Doc says, "You got mono."
WELL CRAP.
I've read about people who've had mono. I know people who've have mono. And they all say something along the lines of "I was more tired with mono than I was after pushing my 10 pound son through my girly bits for 18 hours." Me? Tired? No sir. Well, I'm tired, but I'm not sleepy. I wake up at night at least three times. I'm restless during the day. Nap time has just never been my forte.
So now I'm sitting here trying not to shake my fist at the fates. Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Am I going anywhere? Nope. No holiday party for Gigi. My birthday is next Friday. Am I gonna be all chipper and dazzling like I always imagine I should be on the anniversary of my birth? Noooo. Christmas is in a matter of weeks. Christmas is my favorite holiday. WHY, GERMS?! WHY!??!!
Then I do the zen thing. I take a deep breath and think how Grandma Rose would think. Be a positive, cheery, everything's-fine 89 year old, I tell myself. And it works. Maybe I'll feel a bit better on my birthday. Maybe I'll make it through finals. Yes, this sucks, but this just might be the worst of it.
Ommmmmm....
(Thanks a lot, Boyfriend. I don't know if you gave it to me but I'm blaming you anyway.)
La Madre picked me up this afternoon to come home for Thanksgivin'. She took one look at my enormous left lymph node (it's covered up by my hair in the picture) and decided we needed to go see a doctor. Two and a half hours, one disgusted nurse, one painful throat swab and a needle in my vein later, Doc says, "You got mono."
WELL CRAP.
I've read about people who've had mono. I know people who've have mono. And they all say something along the lines of "I was more tired with mono than I was after pushing my 10 pound son through my girly bits for 18 hours." Me? Tired? No sir. Well, I'm tired, but I'm not sleepy. I wake up at night at least three times. I'm restless during the day. Nap time has just never been my forte.
So now I'm sitting here trying not to shake my fist at the fates. Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Am I going anywhere? Nope. No holiday party for Gigi. My birthday is next Friday. Am I gonna be all chipper and dazzling like I always imagine I should be on the anniversary of my birth? Noooo. Christmas is in a matter of weeks. Christmas is my favorite holiday. WHY, GERMS?! WHY!??!!
Then I do the zen thing. I take a deep breath and think how Grandma Rose would think. Be a positive, cheery, everything's-fine 89 year old, I tell myself. And it works. Maybe I'll feel a bit better on my birthday. Maybe I'll make it through finals. Yes, this sucks, but this just might be the worst of it.
Ommmmmm....
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Homemaking Heaven
Well, it's official. Boyfriend and I are moving out of Boyfriend's friend's mom's basement and into a legitimate apartment of our own. As soon as we can find one within our budget, that is.
I'm excited about having more than just a bedroom to share, of course. But the one thing I am really REALLY excited about? A kitchen of my own. I don't know, maybe it's an Italian girl thing, but I am unbelievably excited to have a place with a stove and a full-size refridgerator. I'm crossing my fingers for a dishwasher too, but if we don't luck out, I'll cope.
Naturally, I'm already drooling over the recipes I'm planning to make in our little love nest. Like frozen hot chocolate in the warmer months. Or these itty-bitty lasagnas. And of course a good staple like this easy bread. This little chickadee is one excited homemaker-to-be!
I'm trying not to think about the other things the apartment will most likely need, though. Boyfriend has banned futons from his life, so no Wal-Mart couch for us. We'll also need a dresser and probably a kitchen table and chairs, if we can get them. Luckily, Boyfriend doesn't hate thrift shops as much as he hates futons, so we'll probably end up there first. With luck we'll be able to find something from this decade.
Oh and Thanksgiving is day after tomorrow! My favorite gustatory holiday. My favorite Turkey Day food? Well, it's split between pumpkin pie and yams with lots of butter and brown sugar. Ohhhh yum. I'm drooling now.
Happy Thanksgivin'!
I'm excited about having more than just a bedroom to share, of course. But the one thing I am really REALLY excited about? A kitchen of my own. I don't know, maybe it's an Italian girl thing, but I am unbelievably excited to have a place with a stove and a full-size refridgerator. I'm crossing my fingers for a dishwasher too, but if we don't luck out, I'll cope.
Naturally, I'm already drooling over the recipes I'm planning to make in our little love nest. Like frozen hot chocolate in the warmer months. Or these itty-bitty lasagnas. And of course a good staple like this easy bread. This little chickadee is one excited homemaker-to-be!
I'm trying not to think about the other things the apartment will most likely need, though. Boyfriend has banned futons from his life, so no Wal-Mart couch for us. We'll also need a dresser and probably a kitchen table and chairs, if we can get them. Luckily, Boyfriend doesn't hate thrift shops as much as he hates futons, so we'll probably end up there first. With luck we'll be able to find something from this decade.
Oh and Thanksgiving is day after tomorrow! My favorite gustatory holiday. My favorite Turkey Day food? Well, it's split between pumpkin pie and yams with lots of butter and brown sugar. Ohhhh yum. I'm drooling now.
Happy Thanksgivin'!
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Literacy and Liberty
It's a good day to be a blogger in America. In Iran, not so much.
A young man my age has been imprisoned for speaking his mind online. (Allah forbid.) He could be whipped, sentenced to life in prison...maybe even executed, if his "crimes" are found to be just that horrible.
It troubles me very deeply that well into the twenty-first century, a teenage boy still can't express himself. He can't tell people what he's reading, what his life is like, or even who his friends are.
But if this young man has anything to be grateful for, it is that he is not a woman. If a female blogger were to be imprisoned, I cringe to think what might happen to her.
Iran isn't real crazy about having women who know how to read.
Can't we do something?
In the mid- to late-1800s, a revolution occurred in America that changed its destiny forever. Poor children of farmers became literate. They learned how to think for themselves, how to back up their arguments. America's children became powerful.
And this is what needs to happen in Iran.
Now, I don't claim to know anything about life in Iran, but I believe I can claim to have a decent grasp of history and how it repeats itself, as the saying goes. And so, if you teach the children of Iran to read and teach them there is more than one way to be "right" and sometimes nobody is "right," well, then...we've got a little bit of a healthier world on our hands.
A young man my age has been imprisoned for speaking his mind online. (Allah forbid.) He could be whipped, sentenced to life in prison...maybe even executed, if his "crimes" are found to be just that horrible.
It troubles me very deeply that well into the twenty-first century, a teenage boy still can't express himself. He can't tell people what he's reading, what his life is like, or even who his friends are.
But if this young man has anything to be grateful for, it is that he is not a woman. If a female blogger were to be imprisoned, I cringe to think what might happen to her.
Iran isn't real crazy about having women who know how to read.
Can't we do something?
In the mid- to late-1800s, a revolution occurred in America that changed its destiny forever. Poor children of farmers became literate. They learned how to think for themselves, how to back up their arguments. America's children became powerful.
And this is what needs to happen in Iran.
Now, I don't claim to know anything about life in Iran, but I believe I can claim to have a decent grasp of history and how it repeats itself, as the saying goes. And so, if you teach the children of Iran to read and teach them there is more than one way to be "right" and sometimes nobody is "right," well, then...we've got a little bit of a healthier world on our hands.
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