Just a thought
I think I might be carrying this baby in my boobs.
I think I might be carrying this baby in my boobs.
I finally got my first really hateful comment!
I feel special.
I thought what better way to celebrate and give the commenter what they want (attention) than to share the comment and the commenter's email address with all of you.
This comment was left on my last post (the one with the picture of my first sonogram).
"A. Who cares? and B. Why would you put a picture of your uterus on the
internet. Are you so proud of the fact that you are a woman who got pregnant.
I am 16 weeks pregnant, would you like to see a picture of my uterus?? Spend
some time doing something meaningful."
This person obviously took the time to go through my archives and really get to know me.
A few months back I couldn't take it any more. Every time I walked into my kitchen I would get angry and start to twitch.
I needed to do something about the hideous linoleum floor.
I dragged the husband to Home Depot, which was an interesting experience to say the least.
$30 and one afternoon later, we had this:
Not bad, eh?
Andrew Dan-Jumbo, watch out!
My mother was raised STRICT catholic. She was born left handed and forced to use her right hand. Left handed children are apparently possessed by the devil. Her life was saturated with guilt.
At the age of sixteen my mother had finally had enough. When a particularly cruel nun tried to cut off her long flaxen hair, my mother grabbed the scissors out of the nun's hand and turned them on her. She threatened the nun with bodily harm if she ever tried to touch her again.
My mother was raised in Manhattan. As a child and a teenager she would watch the wonderfully dressed Jewish ladies go to lunch. She wanted to be like them.
At the age of sixteen my mother moved out of the house and left her childhood and Catholicism behind.
My father was born into a Sicilian Catholic family. Much to the dismay of the rest of the family, his mother was not very observant. My father decided at a young age that religion was not for him and has spent all of his years wavering between atheist and agnostic.
When my father was in his twenties his mother married a Jewish man. She was the most "Jewish" Sicilian grandmother I've ever met. Eggplant parmesean and matzoh ball soup.
When my mother met my father she was still carrying around this fantasy of being Jewish. My mother had not only had a horrible experience with Catholicism, but she had also grown up VERY poor. Even as an adult she had an unrealistic idea of what it was like to be Jewish; money, nice clothes, and ladies lunching.
My father laughed at her and brushed off the idea.
When I was about two and a half my parents separated. Shortly there after my mother met a nice Jewish lawyer. When I was four we moved into his three bedroom apartment on the upper east side of Manhattan. For the first time in my mother's life she didn't really have to worry about money. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't a kept woman. She still worked her ass off, but she didn't have to worry about whether or not we would have a roof over our heads.
My mother was finally surrounded by "the Jewish lifestyle", and she loved it.
She decided she was going to convert. She took classes at the local temple. She joined the sisterhood and the choir. We had bagels every Sunday.
I actually remember as a child, being a little jealous of this temple where my mother spent so much of her time.
When I was seven my mother officially converted to Judaism. I remember standing in the bathroom of the temple the night of her conversion ceremony watching her cry. I'd never seen my mother cry before.
When I was eight my mother married the Jewish lawyer and enrolled me in Hebrew school.
Soon my mother became a Hebrew school teacher. The temple was a HUGE part of our lives.
I never really liked Hebrew school very much, except for music class and arts and crafts.
Shortly before my thirteenth birthday, when talk of my Bat Mitzvah was in high gear, I realized something.
I didn't believe in Judaism. I had only ever really been exposed to one religion and I didn't believe in it.
I didn't want to commit myself to something I didn't believe in.
I told my mother. She committed one of the bravest acts of parenting I've ever seen. She didn't force me to have a Bat Mitzvah. I guess she knew what it was like to be forced to participate in something you don't believe in, and she didn't want me to suffer the same way she had.
To this day I don't believe in organized religion.
I think it was invented by people a long time ago as a form of government, and fear, and because people hate the thought of being alone in this universe.
I think religion is archaic. It does not evolve at the same rate as everything else.
Religion gives people a sense of community and it fills a void, which I understand, but my friends are my community and if I had a void I would fill it with something else (charity work, for example).
I don't like the guilt that most religions are based on. I don't like the love everyone, unless of course, they don't believe in our god, then screw 'em.
I think Jesus was a great man. Someone to admire and look up to. BUT, I don't think he's coming back. Oh, and he was Jewish.
I am a good person. During our wedding vows my husband said "you are the most morally sound person I know".
I don't think I'm going to go to hell (if it even exists) because I don't say some words (prayers) written by humans hundreds or thousands of years ago.
So many wars have been fought because of religion. Something that was supposed to bring people together more often tears people apart.
I have my own religion. It's about balance, and being a good person, and trying to make the world a better place, and respect for the earth, and all creatures lives are precious.
These are just MY opinions. Love them or hate them.
Please help my friend SJ.
She doesn't have a lot of funds, and even though this is her second baby she has never had a baby shower.
I still can't believe I'm pregnant.
My fist OB appointment is on the 25th.
The doctor obviously doesn't understand what a crazy lady she is dealing with.
Having to wait is eating away at me.
I don't know if this will all truly sink in until I hear the doctor confirm that I am, actually, pregnant.
Wouldn't it be funny if after having all of these symptoms I went to the doctor and found out I wasn't pregnant?
Don't shake your head. I wouldn't put it past me.
I think I am suffering from symptoms of a phantom pregnancy. I'm so obsessed with getting pregnant that I've actually convinced my body of it.
-My boobs are bigger.
-My gums are bleeding.
-I've been craving potatoes. I NEVER eat potatoes.
-My brain isn't working right. I been doing things like calling my cousin's cat a puppy and putting the container of bread crumbs in the refrigerator instead of the cabinet.
-I made egg salad. I love egg salad. I sat down to eat it and I couldn't. I was totally turned off by it.
-Every afternoon for the last week I have been getting this weird nausea/burning in my stomach. It happens around the same time every day. I've been eating Tums.
-I'm hungry, but I'm nauseated by foods I usually like.
If I'm not pregnant then I am a LUNATIC.