- News: So how did Romney close the gap to pull ahead in the contentious battleground of Ohio?
- The Boy: Ummm, he filled it with money and walked across it?
- News: Romney spent $7 Million in the state just weeks before the election….
- The Boy: That sounds about right.
I have been so sick for the past couple of weeks.
(How sick were you?)
I was so sick that I didn’t go to school on Monday and WOULD have called out Thursday had school not been canceled for snow. Now, that doesn’t sound very sick, but one must keep in mind that it was the last week of school before winter vacation and that my days with the kids were numbered. I was desperate to get into the classroom! I was so sick that I spent the entire Monday playing video games, which was about the only thing I could do OTHER than take shallow, raspy, and calling in to the OB. I was so sick that even though I didn’t really get a good response, I called back in on Thursday, sounding all the world like Ma from "Ma’s Roadhouse", and told them that my "nasty cold" had lasted a week and I wanted to see someone about it.
The doctor diagnosed me with an upper respiratory infection and explained that my parasite was fine. Apparently, babies are perfect parasites. The take what they need, and generally avoid getting infected with colds and stomach influenza. So while I’m throwing up at home, the babe is only slightly annoyed that his world is being heaved to and fro. In fact, that morning, as I lay in bed gasping for air after throwing up my cough medicine in the nearby trashcan, Old Bean began fluttering about. "What are you so happy about?" I had asked my stomach, grumpily. The Boy, who was getting dressed for work at the end of the bed, looked confused. He wasn’t happy at all. He was worried about me. Then he realized I was talking to my uterus. Old Bean responded with hiccups, which, of course, momentarily took my mind off the sickness that had taken over my life. I quickly grabbed The Boy’s hand and pushed it over the bump in my tummy – he looked at me and smiled. Then he kissed me on my forehead and headed off to work.
I got some azithromycin and refill on my albuterol inhaler and was sent back out into the snowy world…where I met up with Meredila for Elmo’s deliciousness. Then, I slept till, what felt like, Friday (taking a break only for some Papa John’s that gave us a stomach bug…I should have kept sleeping!). Fortunately, school was canceled again, and The Boy was able to take the day off work to take care of me. (At this point, I couldn’t even speak!) But, by Saturday, I felt well enough to head up to The Mom’s house to drop off Christmas presents and visit with the fam. (The presents were a hit this year – The Boy and I definitely exchanged knucks on the couch later.)
They all remarked on my tummy and how pregnant I looked and asked to touch it.
My mother and sisters had never felt the baby kick, so when it started up, I called them over. Bean then stuck out some body part (it felt like a butt…) and I put my mother’s hand on the tiny bump – which squirmed in response. Bean usually does not like to be touched…or does like to be touched, I’m not sure which. Either way, a warm hand in the general kicking vicinity almost always stops all motion. However, he didn’t stop this time; she could feel the bump squirm. My mother, mother of three, master of public health, 24 year veteran registered nurse, exclaimed "EWWW! It’s alive!"
My thoughts exactly.
And though I was disappointed with some aspects of the day, (The DREAM Act failed to overcome a GOP filibuster with five votes…and five Democrats, including one I voted for, voted "no" – I’m not sure how Kay Hagan plans to get my vote after this. It’ll take a Christmas miracle, methinks.) the fact that DADT was repealed, and the fact that I got to spend time with part of my family…with a fireplace…with snow outside…made it, overall, a good day.
I must say that I’m really frustrated with the whole Prop. 8 thing (Yay! I found something new to bitch about!). Seriously though, it seems to me that banning someone from getting married because of their sex or gender is tantamount to burning the constitution with the American Flag. In fact, it’s so personally frustrating that it’s the one subject I won’t let my students discuss in class, because I don’t want to hear it (or prohibit myself from soap-boxing) if they think that Californians are right in curtailing people’s liberties.
Of course, I could be wrong. All the gay people could get married, and then crime rates would shoot through the roof and the apocalypse will come, and hellfire and brimstone will rain down on the heads of those who, like me, said "It doesn’t hurt me if gay people decide to wed! In fact, it would make me happy if my friends and family members could enjoy the same rights that I, as a woman who married a man, enjoy. Why should I care to vote ‘no’?" I would be left there, sitting on a rock outside my apartment, getting prodded by a little demon with a hot-poker thinking "Hm…70% of California’s African-American population must have been right. I should have voted with them." (Which, really, my people, seems like an example of the oppressed becoming the oppressor, but I digress.) Somehow, I think I’d rather risk it than look like Tony Perkins in this situation.
Besides…I heart Dan Savage.
So maybe I don’t post as much because I really don’t have much to bitch about.
First off: Obama won, and, as excited as I am about that, I wonder if The Daily Show will continue to be interesting without Dubya fodder. And I wonder if I will have to re-structure my identity as someone who isn’t a political cynic, someone who can once again believe in the American Dream (at least the political American Dream). I mean, I’ve spent my entire adult life frustrated, indignant, and not just a little ashamed of our government. I’ve spent my entire adult life defining myself as someone who couldn’t possibly support what “they” are doing and now…now the “they” represent my ideals?
Secondly: My students are actually pretty good. Sure there were the two kids who told me I “need to shut up and mind my own business” and there were the two kids who walked away from me in the hallways of their schools spewing profanities and assuring me that they weren’t even talking to me in the first place. And yes, there was that anonymous letter that was sent, about me, to my principal and Central Office, but that was thrown in the garbage by the aforementioned parties mainly because, as they say, they don’t “do” anonymous mail. And, my students are really good. The other kids didn’t belong to me. At least not this semester!
Thirdly: Can’t really complain about members of the opposite sex either. I know that usually I would be inclined to write something such as “boys are dumb”, or that I’m at least supposed to be writing things and saying things about how much married life sucks. But the truth of the matter is, it doesn’t. The Boy and I have a great relationship, in fact, it’s probably better than ever. He thinks I’m hot, despite the fact that I can’t believe I’ve gained twenty pounds in the five months that we’ve been married but at least, and my mother points this out as well, I’ve got a man who finds me attractive and I don’t have to worry about the fact that I’ve gained twenty pounds in the five months that we’ve been married — at least from that perspective. And I’m even getting used to hearing my new last name. The other day, I had to sign a receipt for a credit card I used with my old last name and I felt that somehow I was lying to the bank. It is weird, I do admit, having a legal alias.
Lastly: Aside from continuing to have weird medical issues, my health is pretty good. There as the crazy lapse in health care (Thanks-a-million State of North Carolina!) but once that got all taken care of, I went back to taking medicines as usual. No extended hospital stays. No extra wardrobe for my “bad” days. And, I might even be able to begin to wean myself off of the remaining prescriptions next year.
Yes. Life is pretty good.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find something to bitch about.