sweetisu

We ran out of butter and milk among other essentials. Forgot today is Easter Sunday and every damn place is closed. Why???

I’m not Christian. Far from it. While it is most likely true that the majority of Americans are some type of Christian or deviates of it, there are many who aren’t as well. So why is this “holiday” so freakin important that almost everything is closed???

And I totally don’t get the bunny and egg thing. What’s that all about?! This is a holiday about Jesus, right? So, please tell me, where does the bunny and egg fit in?

Luckily was able to get some groceries in Asiantown.

I apologize in advance if I offended anyone with this post. But, I’m truly annoyed that I don’t have any butter and milk!!!

This is a preliminary list of things that needs to be done around here. And hopefully soon. List is not in any particular order, but must do the first one ASAP.

* do last year’s taxes !!!!!!!!!!!!

* recycle all of our university papers, labs, etc. that’s sitting in the dungeon

* recycle all old magazines

* recycle all other useless papers in the house

* organize a better filing system

* bring all old CPU’s, monitors, and printers to recycling center

* donate all books that are deemed will not be read ever again

* sort and box all of our university books and put into storage

* shred all bills older than one years old

* clean and sort laundry room

* throw away all dead/dried flowers

* sort out main closet, donate clothes I haven’t wear in the last 5 years

* clean out my bra drawer, and socks drawer

* gather things that we haven’t used in 5 years for the upcoming yardsale this summer that I’m supposed to have

* throw / give away any that isn’t remotely sellable

* wash all curtains

* clean all windows when weather is warmer

* buy a food pantry/shelf for kitchen

* sort through things in garage and put more storage shelves/cabinets up

* do a bazillion things for basement room before it is liveable

I was sick of the blogger problems we all have been having: unable to comment, taking forever to load the comment page, etc. So I went ahead and installed another commenting thingy. HaloScan. I thought I was being smart. Only after I installed it did I realize that, all of the comments on previous posts from you lovely ladies have all fucking disappeared!!! I mean, ALL OF IT. I thought that it would just pick up where it left off, and leave my old comments alone. I mean, that would make sense to me. But apparently no one at HaloScan think so.

When I have a dark moment, I sometimes go back and read the comments to remind myself that, yes there are people who read me and there are people out there who give a damn. Now I’ve lost all it all.

Really fucking smart aren’t I.

We dont’ live in New York City, or Los Angeles, or San Francisco. But this is still a fairly big metropolitan place and the population is rather diverse here, yet I still get this question. A lot. If you’re not white, or black, you will get asked this question at some point by some nosy person who could really care less about your answer. Even if you don’t have any weird noticeable accents (a dead giveaway that you’re not local). And it’s usually by people whom you’ve never met before, and will never see again. Or ones who you’re meeting for the very first time. They must just want to make you feel like an outsider, like you don’t belong. They question why you are here, as if they have a right to say “yes you can stay” or “no you must go.”

What is it with the fascination of where people are from. And it’s not just where you grew up, or where you were born. They want to know where all your ancestors are originally from, all the way back to the 1500’s or something.

It saddens me to think that our son will probably get asked this question, more than once, as he grows older. (He was born right here in the midwest). I envision these exchange of words:

Nosy Person: “So sonny, where are you from?”
“Minnesota,” his reply.
“No, I mean, where were you born?”
“In Minnesota”, he replies again.
“Ohhhhh really? Is that right?! Well, where are your parents from then?”

I wonder if this also happens to children who were adopted internationally (who aren’t white or black).

Nosy Person: “So sonny, where are you from?”
“Florida/New Jersey/whatever.”
“No, I mean, where were you born?”
“Uh, I was born in China/Korea/Fiji/birthplace.”
“Wow. What made you come all the way to America?”
“My parents. They adopted me.”

It’s one thing to be truly, genuinely curious. It’s another thing to be a nosy son of a bitch and act like you have a right to know every single branch of this complete stranger’s family tree. And usually, you can tell the difference.

I normally don’t pass “forwards” on. But this is SO DAMN FUNNY that I must share it with the internet, in case you have not read it before.

…Most Polite Ways to Say Your Zipper Is Down

10. The cucumber has left the salad.
9. Quasimodo needs to go back in the tower and tend to his bells.
8. You need to bring your tray table to the upright and locked position.
7. Paging Mr. Johnson… Paging Mr. Johnson..
6. Elvis is leaving the building.
5. The Buick is not all the way in the garage.
4. Our next guest is someone who needs no introduction.
3. You’ve got a security breach at Los Pantalones.
2. Men may be From Mars…..but I can see something that rhymes with Venus.

And the #1 way to tell someone his zipper is unzipped…..

1. I always knew you were crazy, but now I can see your nuts.

My poor husband hasn’t had any for months now - no, you may not call a ho for him.

It’s not because I don’t love him. On the contrary, I love him very very much and cannot imagine living a single day without him. He’s been there for me through all the ups and downs in our lives. He was there when I was diagnosed with cancer shortly after our wedding. He was there when I decided to shave the remaining strands of hair after harsh chemo, and actually helped me with the shaving. He was there by my side during every chemo session, every oncologist appointment, every checkup thereafter. I cannot ask for anyone who is more devoted to the “til death due us apart” vows. I love him with every bit of my heart.

And.

As you know, I had that hematoma thing going on until the 12th week of this current pregnancy (it was Doctor’s Orders to be on Pelvic Rest). Second of all, that annoying Yeast Infection also moved in and is refusing to pay rent. And lastly, I don’t know about other women who’ve miscarried, but I’m not going to allow anything near my vagina or uterus until I feel it was safe. So I do what any good loving wife would do - avoid physical contact so as not to make the boy blue.

Sad to say, I’m not missing it. I seriously think the chemo stole my libido permanently and sent it into the archives for storage, as I was certainly not like this before cancer/chemo.

Fortunately, I have a 15wk OB visit tomorrow. I will ask the Doctor “so what of the Pelvic Rest?” question and see what he says.

***update***

Well, I didn’t get to see the OB. I saw the Nurse Practitioner instead. NP said it’s best to remain on Pelvic Rest until my halfway ultrasound, which is still an entire month away. Hubby is not going to like that at all.

No internal exams this time. NP measured my belly and said I’m measuring right on schedule. I don’t know what she means, because I’ve only gained is 3 lousy pounds so far. I think I’m suppose to have gained more. The babe’s heartbeat is at 146 bpm; a lot less than the initial 170 bpm. All in all, a good and quick visit that lasted about 8 minutes.

In my maiden days, my bosoms barely fit into A cups. I remember buying AA cups late into my teen years, very pathetic, and made me very envious of those who were well-endowed. For god’s sake, there are men who are more well-endowed in the chest than I was! (those, I do not envy!) Then in college I began to fit into an A pretty well, but still not as perky or pointy as others. To make matters worse, I generally weighed 100 +/- 5 pounds. In essence, if it weren’t for my long and girlish hair-do’s I would have looked like a pre-puberty young lad. Maybe I did look like that to some.

When I got pregnant with our son, I read up on pregnancy books and articles. It was pretty unanimous that a woman’s boobs grow as the pregnancy progresses. And by the time 36 or 38 weeks rolls around, her boobs will be approximately the size as if she was breastfeeding, and they suggest going out to buy nursing bras around that time frame. That is, if she so chooses to breastfeed the baby. After all, you don’t want to be without a nursing bra at the hospital, and you wouldn’t have time to rush out to the stores to buy anything until the babes are at least a month old. Well, what a bunch of hooey crap it was!!! None of it applied to me. My boobs got as far as a Barely B by the time I gave birth at 38 weeks gestation.

However, once my milk supply started coming in, I swelled to an enormous size C cup! It was incredible. Hubby thought it was super sexy. I on the other hand, did not want to have anything other than the pumping cups or the little pudgy fingers touching my boobs. The letting down sensation was about the only ones my boobs could handle. And all of a sudden, whether it was truth or self-conjured, I felt everyone was looking at my boobs instead of my faced first. Something that has never ever ever happened before. I’m not entirely sure I liked the extra attention.

This Big Bosom only lasted as long as my breastfeeding days, plus a couple of weeks. I was dismayed to find those mounds shrunk back down to cupcakes, tiny cup cakes. I will never understand why it is possible, but they got smaller than my Maiden Day Boobs. Here’s the kicker: they sagged!!! Considering how small they are/were, I did not think that was possible til much later..

Nature has its funny ways of doing things. I am now in the second trimester (wow, I can’t believe it. second trimester), and my boobs have started to swell at a pretty good rate. I’m now a confidently B cup woman again. I must wonder, based on this rate, will my breastfeeding size become a D?! I shudder to think what my post-breastfeeding size will become this time around… That dreadful boob image from “Something About Mary” comes to mind.

I grew up in the countryside where farming was manual work and not done with any sort of fancy machinery, nor did we have any tractors, or silos, or acres upon acres of land. Instead my parents had to rent a cow to till the soils each planting season.

Yes, RENTING a cow was normal and necessary in that part of the world.

My parents were farmers (read: peasants) and did tailor work on the side. Life was simple. Spend all your energy and time making ends meet and not a waking minute spared to think of anything else, would undoubtedly make anyone’s life simple. We were unbelievably poor and had no money to buy anything but the necessities, even so, we were barely getting by. There were no snacks to be had. We’d be so lucky to have a balanced meal once in a while. My parents’ most prized possessions were two ordinary bicycles that they each used for transportation around town. I had no idea what a car ride felt like, or how memorable a cross-country car trip would be. Don’t ask about my favorite childhood television shows or cartoon characters, or to reminisce how bathe times were so great because, there were no in-door plumbing and no electricity. We’d be lucky if the power was on for 5 hours straight. So basically we didn’t have anything electrical (that eliminates pretty much EVERYTHING in most current household in the West). Wouldn’t have been able to afford any even if there were electricity to be had. And don’t ask to see pictures of when I was a baby/child. We didn’t have a camera and the only times we got pictures taken were at the studio in town, half an hour away. I think we went less than 5 times when I was growing up. I never had any toys as a child. Instead my brother and I played with sticks, rocks, and bugs that we find around the village.

Not everyone in my (extended) family were poor like this. In fact, I think we were the only ones. Nevertheless, my brother and I thrived in school. School was not free; there are no government paid public schools. We had to pay tuition – which cost my parents about ¼ or more of their yearly earnings. My brother and I were usually in the top 10 of our class, if not top 3. Our classes were always large, with over 60 students. Other kids looked up to us. We were the cool kids, even though we were amongst the poorest of the poor.

I have no idea how my parents got through those difficult years. But they did. They are the strongest people I know. They love their family and have determination and dedication toward them, and just trod on, face to face with hardship. I admire and love them to no end.

With the same sense of determination, dedication, and hard work, and starting off with the equivalent of NOTHING, they’ve succeeded once again on this side of the globe. They gave my brother and I everything they could, and more. They believed in us and made sure we both graduate from college, get jobs that would require brains and not muscles, and make a life more comfortable than what they were dealt with. I will never be able to repay what they’ve given me, but I sure as hell try hard to please them and make them proud of every aspect of my life.

Thank you Mom & Dad, for everything. I love you both so very much. Happy 32nd Anniversary.

A lot has happened since I last posted.

We were out of town for 10 days. And without internet access.

We made a detour to California to drop off our son off at the grandparents before heading to Mexico for a company paid trip. CA was absolutely beautiful. We enjoyed it thoroughly, visiting with families and sight seeing, eating as much delicious food as our tummies allowed. When we came back after 5 days in Mexico, our son only wanted his father and didn’t want to have anything to do with me until the next day. He didn’t let me hold him or kiss him. It was quite difficult for me and I don’t think I want to leave him again in the future, even for one day. He must have been angry with us and didn’t quite understand why we left him. He started crying when he saw us packing the suit cases and getting ready to come home. He thought we were leaving him again.

The grandparents enjoyed spending time with him tremendously, of course. They were just delighted, especially since he just learned how to say grandpa and grandma.

Mexico on the other hand surprised me on some levels. Neither of us have ever been to Mexico before. The town we were visiting was very touristy with mostly Americans or Europeans. There were many peddlers hanging around, a lot of them were children under 3 years old. It was rather sad. Tourism is the #1 income for this city, and everything costs an arm and a leg! I don’t think we would have gone there ourselves if it weren’t a paid trip. We got some sun and great food. The seafood was fabulous. Oh yea, saw a few whales while whale watching.

We found our driveway to be under 4-6 inches of snow when we arrived home. I didn’t think that was funny. Luckily hubby is the one who always shovels the snow. We were all glad to be home again, even though it is so freakin’ cold.

I had a checkup on Feb 17th. Heard the heartbeat. It was wonderful! The doctor estimated it was 170bpm, just a tad faster than our son’s (150-160bpm). It was a beautiful sound indeed. Our 1.5 year-old son was with us and when he heard the swooshing sounds of the heartbeat, he made some giggling sounds. Apparently he thought it was pretty cute. We are both very relieved but still feel cautious. No bleeding or spotting for almost 3 weeks now. Maybe the hematoma is gone for good? I hope so.

Remember that (first ever!) yeast infection I had in November? Well, it’s still here. Yea. I’ve had mild intermittent symptoms. Supposedly YI can cause pre-term labor, I suppose that’s when the pregnancy is further along?! In any case, I’ve been given 2 Class C* prescriptions
to treat it. One of the pamphlets says the med has been found to cause vertebrae deformities in mice when used during the first trimester, and the other says not enough data has been collected regarding usage during pregnancy. I’ve been holding out on using them. This coming week is 14wks. Maybe it’ll be safe to use then?!

But I’ve been using another Class C medication for my other illness since before getting pregnant (yes, I’m a very sick woman who uses a lot of drugs). It worries me on what the consequences are on the baby.

Oh, and I’ve vomited once or twice, but nothing compared to when pregnant with our son. My belly is starting to show slightly to the stranger’s eyes, and trips to the bathroom is maintaining its high frequency. So I’m assuming everything is going the right direction. The
next checkup is in a couple of weeks.

On the job front, I still have not made a decision yet. But it looks more and more likely that I will stay home for now. It just doesn’t make much sense to look, work for a few months and then quit because paying childcare for 2 will cost too much to be worth it. But we’ll see if things change in this regard.

* Too lazy to google now, but I believe Class C medication means the benefits of taking it may outweigh the risks during a pregnancy.