Things I Love in the News:

Sussing out SIDS. Fact of life: parents worry about everything. Especially when you're a first-time mom, especially when you read What to Expect When You're Expecting, especially if you have any medical background. Or maybe just when you're neurotic, like me. Whatever your reason, I think every parent has experienced some anxiety over SIDS, and I know (I KNOW) you have all breathed a sigh of relief when your child passes those ages marking reduced likelihood of SIDS happening.

The problem - until now! See article! Yay! - is that SIDS is utterly mysterious. We know that putting babies to sleep on their backs has ostensibly yielded a lower incidence of SIDS. We also know that cooler temps and no loose bedding/stuffed animals are recommended.

Now there is science to help understand at least one of the mechanisms and/or hallmarks of SIDS. DO YOU REALIZE HOW HUUUUGE THIS IS?? We can quantifiably demonstrate a difference between babies who suffered from SIDS and those who didn't. What was once ambiguous and full of so much intangible ether has all of a sudden been transformed into concrete facts, a burgeoning understanding of something, ANYthing that goes wrong in SIDS.

In case you don't get my level of excitement over this from my writing, let me add: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't have personal experience with SIDS. I just am thrilled at the insights and power of modern science. I am hugely interested in how the body works - and how it doesn't work, as the case may be - and the fact that science is elucidating details about a previously mysterious, deadly disease is cause for celebration.

This gives me much hope.


Things I Hate in the News:

Or: Why I Am Never Living in France. Mainstream media articles re: this subject (shockingly few and far between) all seem to frame it in the context that France has; namely, that it is a regression of social mores and a throwback to uncivilized, barbaric times to have a society in which women choose to cover themselves. (Divulgence: That is my rather slanted summation.)

Excuse me. Let me try that again. France (and, yes, I am generalizing this to the whole country, since it is their parliament, their representative governing body, pushing forward on this) thinks that any sort of excessive covering of one's body - here, particularly, the face - MUST mean that a woman is being subjugated and made inferior, and THEY WILL NOT STAND FOR IT! (Heavy on the sardonicism there.)

Does anyone else not see the complete and total backwardness of that sentiment? While the law being contemplated alludes to "any veils that cover the face," it is widely understood - and supported by real-life experience, because what other population or ethnic/religious garb is there to which this ban applies - that this is a ban on the burqa/nikab. (Examples: here and here.)

Facts: While there may be a very small minority of women who wear a burqa/nikab because of their husband's wish (and why that shouldn't be a problem is a whole 'nother post), a HUGE majority of Muslim women take this step ON THEIR OWN. It seems France, however, refuses to consider that possibility, and, in so doing, they are contemplating DENYING women the right to choose to cover or not, to have a religious or personal identity, to exercise all it means to live in a "socially advanced, liberal" country - oh, wait, I'm sorry, I forgot we were talking about France here.

Sarkozy says it's an issue of women's freedom and dignity. If he had half a brain he would be able to see that, were that actually the case (as opposed to the religious persecution that seems more and more common in Europe against Muslims), a BAN would DENY women's FREEDOM to CHOOSE DIGNITY - because that is what covering represents to a Muslim woman.

GAH, I could go on. You get the idea. This = me = NOT HAPPY. I do NOT love this.

And because this needs MORE things in CAPITAL LETTERS FOR EMPHASIS: WELCOME TO THE DARK AGES. Sarkozy + French Parliament's Burqa Ban Commission = BIG FAT NEGATORY.

There are 2 things I regret in my life.* I'm not talking about all the myriad little things we wish we had done slightly differently, or things over which we feel a small twinge of embarrassment or irritation or distaste. No, I am talking about things that you would give anything, or nearly anything, to undo. Things of such colossal, monumental failure, pain, suffering, disgrace, and whatever other negative words you can think of that nothing you do from here forward will ever make up for it. I'm talking about mistakes that are so much bigger than mistakes. I'm talking about the stuff your heart and soul cry out to God to fix, to ease the pain, to somehow make something okay out of the mess you just created.

Tonight you shall be treated to Regret #2; or, Second Biggest Mistake I Have Ever Made and Would Give ALMOST Anything To Take Back.

Hubs (a.k.a., Hottie McHots) and I met in college. The plan was always professional school for him, eventually medical school for me. We had Fruit Loop somewhere in that "eventually" part, though I continued to keep medical school in the trajectory of my/our life path. I took the MCATs while pregnant, started applying while pregnant, finished applying and interviewing after Fruit Loop was born, and was accepted. I deferred for a year to stay home a little while longer (having become a housewife/stay-home-baby-incubator several months into the pregnancy), and Fruit Loop and I spent all of our time becoming best buddies. (That's about all I did, really - baby baby baby, very little housework, no real cooking whatsoever, leaving Hubs to work his way through an extremely rigorous professional school and fend for himself re: meals, giving him nothing but the leftover me at the end of the day...Not too proud of that, really. Also on the regret list, but overshadowed by The Big Ones.)

When Fruit Loop was a few weeks shy of his 2nd birthday, I began medical school. Fruit Loop was thrust into a 10h+ day at daycare when all he knew before was all Mom, all the time. If I thought I didn't do housework and/or cooking before, I REALLY didn't do any now. I dumped my son in daycare, studied all day, fed him dinner, put him to bed, and watched TV for several hours before going to sleep. I did nothing for Hottie McHots, I became less and less invested in my relationship with him and with Fruit Loop, and I devoted all of my spare time to me (e.g., vegging out in front of the TV) or school (which, still, was devoting time to me at the expense of my family).

Hottie McHots started doing even more. On top of an extremely successful and demanding professional career, he picked up dinner, he watched the fruit loop for the entire weekend while I studied, he cleaned, he did laundry...He did the work of two parents, all so I could get through medical school however I felt I needed to. He got very little in return from me other than my expectation that he would be SuperHubs, that he would take care of everything, that I was entitled to such selfless giving on his part, that I didn't need to do anything other than be nice and be married for him to be happy.

Fruit Loop had it equally rough. A sensitive, emotional, exuberant, intelligent little boy, one whose world was so suddenly turned upside-down, he became duller, prone to sadness and/or extreme upset when I left, stopped growing and gaining weight well, slept fitfully (waking up NUMEROUS times every night).... I firmly believe he was clinically depressed after my first semester in medical school.

I was more independent, less caring of my family, more selfish, more emotional, short-tempered, anxious... I was not a nice person. I was not a happy person.

After reflecting on how the first semester went, and how NOBODY was happy, Hottie McHots and I decided to make some minor changes for second semester. That worked marginally better, but we came to the conclusion that it was either/or: it was either medical school or my family. There could not be both. It was too hard, it was too much of a sacrifice, it was taking too much of a toll on all of us and our relationships. Framed in that context, I decided to request a leave with the plan of walking away from medical school for good.

And, after some other tumultuous circumstances and decisions (none of which I will go into now), that is what I did. It was hard to make the initial decision to leave medical school, and Hubs and I both acknowledged a large part of that was due to other people's expectations, the sense of quitting a dream, and how this is such an achievement... But, ultimately, it always came back to the family. That was a no-brainer, then.

It has, however, permanently changed the family dynamic. I put far too much strain on my relationship with Hottie McHots, and both he and I assumed our relationship had more "give" than it really did. We sacrificed a lot of necessary TLC, and I will never be able to undo the damage to our relationship from my entitlement re: medical school. Moreover, I don't have the same relationship I did with Fruit Loop, and I never will. I am still more short-tempered and selfish in ways that I didn't used to be. My regrets over this make me sharper and angry/frustrated with myself, and feeling like that renders me a less pleasant person to be around.

There are some positives, such as realizing not to take Hottie McHots and our marriage for granted, realizing how much work it takes to sustain a relationship/marriage, how important my family is to me...but, boy, it sure came at a steep, steep price. Take-home lesson: people will say it can be done, and, indeed, many women do the whole career-mom thing; however, each family is different, each mom is different, and the career-mom thing is NOT for us.

I wish I could erase all of it. The entire time. It's not worth it.



*I'm not sure you will ever know of Regret #1, little blog. I'm pretty sure just typing it would cause some sort of mainframe implosion. Or something equally dire. Not like I'm dramatic or anything.

Lots of miscellaneous thoughts bouncing around my head tonight, but nothing that seems particularly bloggable.

I am feeling contemplative, desirous of achieving things but first needing to surmount an overwhelming sense of inertia, opinionated in a soapbox-y kind of way, and indulgent in a pop-culture kind of way.

So where does that leave you, little blog? Ooh, let me give you an abbreviated rant. (This would be a bit less opaque if I gave specific situations, but I don't mind the vagueness right now. And since I'm pretty sure no one else is reading this, I win re: vague blog posts that don't make sense to anyone but me!)

It seems society is trending so much toward "it's not my business/respect others' decisions/don't get involved" that we are rapidly losing a valuable moral majority. We are tossing aside a collective moral compass and sense of outrage over transgressions when we choose to ignore unsavory decisions/actions, allow individuals to destroy their lives' and the lives of those who love them, and maintain a delusional status quo where everyone is civil and polite and advanced and so accepting and everyone will always like them...

What I'm saying is: if you know of something wrong, you have a moral imperative to address that. Child abuse. Adultery. ET AL. What I'm saying is: GET IN OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSINESS. No one can hold you in the wrong for doing what's right. In fact, they should thank you.

Or something like that. I'm tired. My brain is done. I think I've spent the last week butting heads w/ the fruit loop, holding a sick Cracker Jack, and being a total shrew. (Poor Hottie McHots. Hottie McHots, will it make you feel better if I tell you I'm planning on showering AND shaving my legs tonight? I mean, planning and actually accomplishing are two vastly different things when it's the end of the day and Fruit Loop is STILL AWAKE, but at least it's on the table.) I need me some Oreos, some ice cream, 12h+ of sleep, an adoption center - not necessarily in that order, either - and seriouslyifthatlittleboogerdemandsonemorethingfrommeiwillSCREAM! Where does a 4-year-old get the idea that I am his total slave? GAHHHHHH!

Why do people have kids? And an even more mindboggling follow-up: why do people have more than one?? I mean, let's be honest here: once you know what you're getting into, why would you ever decide to rinse and repeat? HOW HAS THE HUMAN RACE NOT GONE THE WAY OF THE DODO?** If we were smarter, we would have died out long ago due to inadequate procreation to further the species. I'm just saying.

(Yes, I know, WE HAVE 2 LITTLE MONSTERS OF OUR OWN. We RINSED AND REPEATED. I'm tired. This is the best you get tonight.)

*Or: Why I May Have Just Stumbled Upon Something BIG vis a vis the Dinosaurs and Their MASS EXTINCTION. Yeah, that's right. Exactly.

**Yes, I realize this may not be the MOST accurate phrase, but you get my point. My point? EQUALS EXTINCT.

Let's call that "vacation" (and I use that term LOOSELY) a big fat negatory.

No, wait:

A.

BIG.

FAT.

NEGATORY.

!!

We are back. We actually got back a few days ago, having cut the trip short due to a death in the family. Add to that everyone getting sick, abysmal weather (seriously, California, WHAT's WITH THE RAIN?!), and I'm not sure we will ever return to the great C of A state.

Will try posting more on all of that absolute joy over the next few days. I KNOW YOU CANNOT WAIT. Not like it will be depressing or anything, although I have noticed this quick vacation recap is a pretty good way to stop a conversation DEAD IN ITS TRACKS.

Prepping for big family vacay/wedding festivities in CA and NJ over the next week and a-half.

...Seems a bit trivial in light of the earthquake in Haiti and various other world concerns. A number of organizations are setting up donations and relief/aid/support: Red Cross, Wyclef, ISNA (to name a few). Help however you can - prayers probably more than anything.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present to you: The Eight Dollar Pear. Note the sale price turns your putative Eight Dollar Pear into a Paltry Five Dollar Pear. However, I ask you this: When have you EVER had even a Five Dollar Pear? You see my point.

From all reports, these Harry & David pears are just, like, the bee's knees. Commonly called "the best pears I/she/he/we've ever had," I am impressed by the advertising alone - I mean, can YOU cut a pear like that? And then take a picture with a perfect drop of sweet, pear-juicy nectar poised tantalizingly on the edge of the spoon? (Go ahead, wipe the drool off of your keyboard, I'll wait.)

So. We're toying with the idea of becoming Harry & David Fruit-of-the-Month Clubbers. And most of the options are on sale now, 20% off. (THAT, my friends, is a whole 'nother post - The Thrill of the Sale.) My boys all have great appetites, and actually enjoy healthy, real food! Compared to the average American's diet, I'd say we are leaps and bounds ahead with regards to fruit and vegetable consumption. Yay! So a fruit of the month club would certainly not go to waste, I don't think.

However, not sure I'm willing to spring for an Eight Five Dollar Pear. Not that I don't like to dream big or anything, I'm just a little scared of such colossal fruit. Can you imagine, though? It'd be an event all unto itself.

Me: "Remember, honey, tonight is Pear Night!"
Hottie McHots: "Darn tootin'! I can't wait!"
Fruit Loop: "Gee whiz, Ma, do we have to wait 'til tonight? C'mon!"
Cracker Jack: "A-ba-ba. Ba. AAAAAAAAAIEEEEEEEE!"