Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Top Re-Watchable Shows

In these absolute shit times, you need quality watching that won't let you down.

1. Ghost Whisperer-Come for the closure stories, stay for one of the best love stories ever. Jim Clancy & Melinda Gordon 4-ever

2. Leverage-Come for the boner justice, stay for the group dynamics.

3. Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries-Come for the fabulous feminist detective, stay for the hilarious sass.

4. White Collar-Come for the great stories, stay for brothers Neal and Peter. Also, Neal's body.

5. Burn Notice-Come for the interesting spy tips, stay for friendship. And Bruce Campbell.

6. Marvel's Agent Carter-Come for the badass Hayley Atwell, stay for the badass Hayley Atwell.

7. Marvel's Agents of Shield-Come for the Marvel Universe, stay for Phil Goddamn Coulson.

8. Brooklyn 99-Come for Jake Peralta, stay for all of them.

9. Sherlock-Come for Benedict Cumberbatch, stay for Greg Lestrade.

10. The Walking Dead (Season 1 and 2 only) Come for the amazing pilot, stay only for the first two seasons because the rest is garbage and the writers are terrible and goddamnit, why couldn't they have kept Frank Darabont?!?

11. The Adventures of Brisco County Jr-Come for the Western feel, stay for Lord Bowler's sass

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Sunday Snippets: First Mother's Day

I had my first Mothers Day with a living two legged child recently. I have been a fur mom since 2011 and last year, I was still mourning the loss of a very wanted pregnancy. Motherhood is a mind fuck for sure but seeing my son coo and smile, even while tired, was beautiful.

Australia's 'Man With The Golden Arm' Retires After Saving 2.4 Million Babies

White Woman Calls Security on ‘Suspicious Man With a Baby’ at Park in Washington, DC

How to Break Up With Your Phone

Thursday, May 17, 2018

A birth story

It's been almost three months since I gave birth to our son and I wanted to get down some more feelings on the subject.

I didn't have the overwhelming rush of love that my mother had and logically, I knew that was okay, but emotionally I felt guilty. The weeks after I gave birth, I knew I liked the kiddo and I had the biological urge to make sure he didn't hurt himself, but I didn't have the gushy feelings.

I have them now, but not all the time. When he smiles delighted at me, as though I'm the most interesting person in the world. Or when he coos at me. Or grips my fingers while he's eating. Hubs and I both came to the same conclusion; that once he was born, we were supposed to transfer all of our love for each other, our hobbies, etc to him. When in fact we still very much like each other and our passions and our son is just another addition. I'm still Jillian, with another identity. Not Son's Mother, who used to be Jillian.

Not to mention that I was so raw from exhaustion and healing from the birth. Healing from a tear is awful. I had to have help to stand and the nurses warned me not to look. Not a problem, since I already knew what thrice diced lasagna looked like, although my wonderful husband assured me everything looked fine.

I think part of the issue was that I really really didn't like being pregnant. I liked feeling him kick and the hilarious shirts that I found. But being so sick at first, the horrible headaches, round ligament pain, etc, I mourn both the fact that I didn't get an enjoyable pregnancy experience and the fact that I feel like a jackass for being upset about it, since many people would love to have been in my shoes.

And I think the other part was I felt like I didn't deserve him, that he wasn't quite real. I've wanted children since I was 20 and now that I've had the experience, I feel like a hypocrite for possibly not wanting more since I didn't enjoy the experience. Not to mention the miscarriage. Every single appt, I went in expecting not to hear a heartbeat anymore. I was terrified to commit and love him because I thought he'd be snatched away.

Now I tease him that I'm going to sell him to the highest bidder when he wakes up for the 4th time at night and he just smiles. I think we'll be okay.

His birth story:

My "due date" was March 1st. I had my last appt with him still in utero on March 2nd and the doctor asked if I wanted to schedule an induction.

Kiddo was going to make his appearance when he wanted and inductions are no fun, no matter how you slice them.

Saturday, March 3, I started feeling intermittent contractions and started to get really excited. I slept till 4am Sunday March 4th and that was the last solid sleep I got till Monday night. They started picking up in intensity around 6:30 am so I woke up the hubs and we started timing them. We got to the hospital around 9:30 but since I was only 2 cm, they sent us back home. I was sorta glad because the doctor on call was my least favorite doctor in the practice. He checked me in triage so fast and so rough, even the nurse was like Uh, buy the lady a drink first?

So I relaxed at home, napping and Netflixing. By 9pm, I had to pause Netflix for each contraction and stand up for them. I ended up on the couch around 11:30 and the hubs stayed with me, holding my hips until 2 when I told him to get some sleep. Our oldest cat hopped up after he left and licked my arm after each contraction and pawed at my face to make sure I was ok. I couldn't lay down for any of them, the pain forced me back up. They were one on top of the other.

At 5:30 Monday morning, I woke him back up because my hips were in agony. He would press on my hips through each contraction. I called the doctor around 8:30 and they told me to come in right away.

Slight problem. Monday morning before 9am? All the mutherfreaking traffic. So I had to give directions to the hospital, using the back roads, in between contractions. I was clutching the seatbelt holder, to have something to grab and was honestly worried (because I didn't know it at the time that he was sunny side up and his big ol' head was pressing into spots that it shouldn't) that I was going to shit my pants. I seriously thought the child was going to be born via my asshole, the pressure was so intense.

We get to the hospital and the valets take one look and scream for a wheelchair. While checking in at triage, I started to cry again because I was so exhausted and in pain and the intake person snapped Don't cry, you need to breathe.

My face:

I'll cry if I fucking want to. Got checked and was so grateful to hear that I was 7cm. Because if they had tried to send me home again, I would have looked like this:

They wheeled me back to a room while hubs parked the car and we ended up with the most wonderful Labor and Delivery nurse. She asked if I wanted pain meds and I was like how many ya got? And honestly, I was willing to give it a go without pain meds. But I was exhausted and labored almost 6cm without anything so yeah, gimme that good shit.

Actual footage of me with a blessed epidural

The hubs stood by my side the whole time, except for the epidural part. He waited till he knew I was okay and then proceeded to nearly pass out on the couch. Him and needles, not so much. The nurses were lovely and brought him food and drink.

By 1pm, I was fully dilated and allowed to push (which trying to hold back that urge? Damn near impossible). I even requested a mirror, tried the squat bar and pushed with hubs holding up both legs. And yes, you shit while pushing. It's a thing and you really don't care in the moment.

By 4:45, I was exhausted. They said I could try forceps or elect for a C section. I said forceps, because why not? Those couldn't hurt as much as a C section, right?

They even gave me a top off of pain meds, but I felt like I was being split in two while on fire. And I had to push with each contraction while those oversized salad tongs were inside me. The doctor had him out in three contractions, with the first one turning him right side up. Upside was that it was done, downside was that the doc needed 45 minutes to stitch up what turned out to be a third degree tear.

(And post script, I had to get some additional...work done in the vaheen area because while he was stitching, some of the muscle under-layer got caught up and was present on the surface, which caused nerve over-stimulation. So I willingly watched as the doc put silver nitrate on the little skin tags, to basically cauterize them and yes, this is the shit new moms do not talk about because how in the ass has the human race sustained itself for this long when this kinda shit happens)

For the record, these are forceps:

It was incredible, watching him be placed on my chest. I was so concerned with trying to get the pain to stop, my brain stopped for a sec and was like Oh, a baby, I get one of those? His head was all coney from the forceps, but he was real. He was alive and he was here.

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

Book Review: So You Want to Talk About Race

Ijeoma Oluo's new book, So You Want to Talk About Race is a must read.

Most especially for white people.

We all know those out of touch, overtly racist relatives and those you see in the Target checkout line. But the more covert and micro-agressiveness types of racism are still so prevalent and overlooked but desperately need to be tackled. Precisely because most white people don't think it exists. Racism = a loud boorish person singing the N word, not someone coming up and touching a person of color's hair and then getting mad at them for slapping their hands away.

This book lays out, step by step, how to address the systematic racism that's been the backbone of much of the United States since white people landed on the shores.

This how to manual is broken into seventeen chapters, covering topics like "What is intersectionality and why do I need it?" to "What is the school-to-prison pipeline?" to "What are microaggressions?" Each chapter covers a different section of the white supremacist state and how moving parts are in place to subjugate communities and people of color. The entire book is incredibly helpful and well paced. Oluo tackles complex topics but never dilutes any chapter, while still making it accessible for those who want to dismantle systematic racism.

White people who want to step up after the horrific election of the current resident in the Oval Office, but aren't quite sure how, can turn to this book as a great starting point. Buy it for every white person in your life.