Welcome to the life of an American female. Aimlessly wandering the road of youth and adulthood, she shares her tales of growing pains, discoveries and ideas. There might also be a pinch of happiness, a dash of light, and a micro-amount of wisdom within. The author is not liable for any psychological damages you may incur while reading this blog.

The author put it best when she said, "My humor is like a good martini - extra dry and sometimes served dirty."

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Pregnancy Troubles

In case you didn't know it, I'm currently pregnant with our first child. As it turns out, we're having a baby girl! Normally, it'd be appropriate to divulge more information about how I'm doing, what we have planned, and so on, but unfortunately, this is more of a ranting pregnancy post. Enjoy. Or just suffer through it. Or click away. 

Before I got pregnant, I didn't think I'd want to divulge information about my pregnancy or let people touch my "bump." Not much changed after I actually got pregnant - I don't mind close friends and family (you know, the ones I actually like) touching my bump, but I feel like telling everyone else paws off!!! 

Yeah, just don't touch it. Ok?
At what point does a pregnant woman cease to be a human being with needs of her own and evolve into a highly touchable incubator? I've got the answer - halfway through your pregnancy. Now that I'm 21 weeks along, I've stopped looking like I've been eating too much ice cream and started looking like a genuinely pregnant woman. With this new look comes an onslaught of unwelcome and awkward comments about my weight, size, looks, and other general things about my person that no one would dare say if I weren't pregnant. 
Mmmm.....ice cream....
Today was no exception. While my husband likes to constantly comment, "Your belly is getting big!" I'm well aware of his meaning. Besides, he helped make this baby and it's his right to participate in every moment. We're a team. You other people? Um...learn your places, please?? Some people just seem to know their place and what's appropriate to say or not to say...possibly because they endured some crap while they were pregnant and remember how it made them feel. I have one coworker who likes to poke said bump and occasionally address it as though it is a separate entity. We're close enough that I'm not the least bit bothered by that. She's also never said anything about my weight, size, etc, so kudos for that! I have several others, however, who constantly make comments about where I'm carrying my weight, how much it looks like I've grown, how I can eat whatever I want because I'm pregnant, and so on. 

I'm well aware that I'm growing on a daily basis. I'm aware that my old pants won't button. I'm beyond aware that my complexion resembles that of an awkward teen. And yes, I know my baby bump is sticking out, along with the fat I already sported around my belly. I know my feet and ankles have already started swelling, and I know I look tired all of the time. But you know what else I know? 

I'm growing a baby.

That's right, a baby. My body is changing and shifting to make room for a growing baby. I have food aversions and heartburn and bloating. I'm extra sensitive to strong-smelling perfumes and lotions, and I cry easily. I have subconscious insecurities about being unattractive in this new condition, and I have nightmares about my husband running off with a much thinner, better looking woman. I also have crazy dreams about men I would never find attractive in real life, dreams about being chased by an intelligent T-Rex and dreams about narrowly escaping disaster. I have more emotions coursing through me at any given minute than a soap opera on prime time TV. My boobs hurt, my feet hurt, and sometimes I get dizzy as heck. And that's just part of it.

So with all of that I'm experiencing, why do people feel the need to say insensitive and useless crap? 

Whether a woman is pregnant or not, there's some things you just don't say to her. Don't comment on her weight unless it's to say you think she's lost some...and don't make a habit of doing that. Don't comment on her looks unless it's to compliment her. It's NEVER appropriate to call her large, big, or say things like, "Man, you're getting big!" 

Keep on, and I might start firing back! 

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

On Growing Up: Dolls

Being a '90s baby, I grew up when Cabbage Patch dolls were popular. They were born in a "hospital" and you could "adopt"the one you wanted. My parents wouldn't let me have one. At the time, I thought they were just being ridiculous. They're just dolls! 

Everybody wants one!!
For the most part, I didn't care for dolls. I liked the American Girl porcelain dolls, but besides a Cabbage Patch doll, there really wasn't any doll I could say I wanted.

Recently, I learned about a different kind of doll, one that is better known as a "reborn." According to WikiPedia, a reborn doll is a "vinyl doll that has been transformed to resemble a human baby with as much realism as possible." Doesn't sound so freaky, huh? Well...watch these videos first:

That's right. Grown women treating dolls like babies, taking them into stores, buying them actual baby clothes, furniture, diapers, you name it. Teens buying them to be "teen moms." It's appalling. You can read more here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncanny_valley as to why many people DO find these dolls repulsive. 

Are the dolls themselves harmful? No. Like the Cabbage Patch dolls, they are just toys, made by humans, for humans. However, it's the emotions we invest in them and the creating of an unnatural bond with them that makes them...well, just plain wrong. 

Now that I'm older and about to become a mom myself, I can understand a little bit of my parents' sentiment of wanting to protect me. Are Cabbage Patch dolls evil? Will they turn every person that has one into a total freakazoid? Nope and nope. Same thing for "reborn" dolls. My parents wanted me to enjoy childhood and not feel tied down with the responsibility of a baby...a baby that's just a toy. They wanted me to use my imagination and enjoy life, but they didn't want me getting involved in something that's almost cult-like. Good call. I doubt I would have become obsessed if I had been permitted to have a CP doll, but they made the decision they thought was best. 

I want what's best for my future kiddo, too. I don't want to see them involved in something so...well, darn creepy. Regular baby dolls? If we must. These mock children? Um, no. So...if my future kiddo ever comes up to me and asks for one of these freaky reborn dolls, my answer will be a swift "no," and it'll probably take them 18+ years to understand why, too.