I'm in a really bad funk.
After September 11th, I was out of it, depressed and freaked out. I remember having to stop watching the news coverage and finding a brainless movie to occupy my mind.
Then I got pregnant and had John, and it became difficult to watch or read any news. I could only think about horrible things happening to him, or me or John. I couldn't handle the thought of something happening to my baby, or something happening to me or John and little John growing up without a mom or dad.
I also read a couple books where a few characters's mothers were dead, not to mention all the stupid Disney movies that deal with dead mothers. I started to feel the significance of being a mother to someone.
Of course all this got worse after I had Max. Now there are two small humans relying on me to keep them safe and healthy.
So anytime I see, hear, read about something happening to a mom or a child, it affects me. A two-year-old fell out of a two-story window in town last week. People are starving in Africa. Mothers are killing their kids. Husbands are killing their pregnant wives. Everyday it's something new.
Now I can't help soaking in all the awful shit happening with people in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. What the hell is going on down there? Everyone holding any office in that city and state should be ashamed and embarrassed at their lack of planning, and working their asses off to provide relief and rescue to the people there.
I can't believe some of the stories I'm reading. And what is the rest of the country doing? Watching football, bitching about gas prices, going about their daily routines.
On September 11th, terrorists struck. They killed more than 3,000 people. Then officials went in and helped the people who needed it. They organized cleanup efforts and vigils. Sporting events were cancelled. People across the country took a few minutes to think about what had happened.
Last night my husband watched football, my kids played and I ate ice cream trying to make myself feel better. But it did not feel right. There were several pro and college football teams playing only a few hundred miles away from an area where thousands of people were struggling stay alive.
Why aren't games being cancelled? Why aren't people flying the flag? Why isn't everything stopping until everyone is out of the affected areas and this is under control?
Right now there are hundreds of mothers unable to do anything for their children or themselves. Sure, they could have tried to prepare better for the devastation, but I'm not sure how. Maybe some of those elected officials who are now yelling at everyone but themselves could have given them some tips on how to survive. Maybe there could have been a plan in place. Shouldn't there have been a plan in place?
In what seems like one of the poorest areas of the country how could everyone have been expected to leave? And like everywhere else, there are elderly people, small people, isolated people who can't do much to help themselves. I guess they can't get out to vote either, so why bother.
So this has me in a very foul, fucked up mood.
Saturday, September 10
I'm better.
John went to Cleveland for an interview with the MAC and is expecting to hear something in the next couple days. He says he thinks he would like it. But he wants more than they're offering. I guess he can talk about it when they make the offer. He goes to Wyoming for an interview Monday.
We made our first emergency kind of trip to the hospital this week. Max fell off a little tikes chair in the kitchen. He cried at first and I picked him up and took him into the living room and sat in the couch, cradling him. Then his eyes kind of fluttered and closed. It freaked me out and I yelled at John, who was getting ready to leave for work, that we had to go to the hospital. By the time we got in the car, Max seemed to have snapped out of it and started crying again.
As we were walking into the Rochelle hospital Max was smiling and seemed fine. We talked to a nurse who said he looked fine. She just told us a few things to look for. I called Benziger's office, too, and heard the same thing. So he was fine. Just a little scare.
Monday, September 12
John is on his way to Wyoming.
I had hoped he would have heard something from the MAC by now. Oh well.
I am going to post a recipe for peach iced tea that is supposed to be a make-your-own Iced Tea Peach Snapple. I found a recipe on someone else's website and made a few changes.
fill a 1.5 quart small saucepan with water as full as possible
bring to a boil;
add two or three family size tea bags;
let steep for an hour;
pour a heaping 1/3 c of sugar in pitcher;
pour tea in and stir;
rinse saucepan out with a little more water and add to pitcher;
stir in about 1 c ice cubes;
add 2-3 T lemon juice, I actually fill the 1/3 c used for the sugar halfway;
add 14-16 oz, 2 c, peach juice (I use Juicy Juice, but those peach nectars are great, too;
add more ice and water to fill 2 quart pitcher.
Yesterday I went to Kari's BY MYSELF and then to a movie! Can you believe it? I saw The Aristocrats. I cried the entire time and laughed out loud at the best part (that I wasn't expecting, which made it even better). It was pretty funny. I was afraid it was going to be too gross for me, and it was, but then it turned funny somehow. Now all I can do is think of ways to make the joke even worse.
Monday, September 26
John turned down the MAC and has an interview at Missouri next Monday. We're all going.
I think the MAC job would have been a good one for him, but it didn't pay enough. Houses is Columbia are inexpensive and it's supposed to be a nice place to live. I called Crystal to tell her we're coming, but I haven't heard back from her. Plus, a house next door to her is for sale. Can you believe that?
These guys keep getting bigger and older. Max is walking really well. I can't believe he's going to be one in just a few weeks. Jeez. John has grown in the last couple weeks. I marked his height when he turned 30 months/2 and a half, and he's already an inch taller than that mark.
Max was so cute this weekend. We asked John to put his cup in the sink, like we always do when he's down with a drink, and Max followed him with his cup. Whattacutie.
I'm trying to figure out how to write to my aunt Angie to encourage her to breastfeed. I heard through my mom that she wants to use formula. I don't care whether she gets an epidural, but at least breastfeed! I have plenty of information to send her, but I don't want to be pushy or piss her off.
