This by no means a political blog, but I just have to comment on this guy running for senator here in MD. His name is Josh Rales, and he has the most unbelievable commercials. Unbelievable in the sense that they are totally full of crap. In one, he promises to improve the schools, lower student-teacher ratios and raise teacher pay. In another he promises to both reduce our dependence on foreign oil and pull our troops out of Iraq. I can't wait for the one where he promises to find a cure for male pattern baldness and to put a stop to telemarketers.
The commercials and the whole campaign seem so childish to me. It's like watching a kid running for jr. high president who promises that detention will be abolished and that pizza will be on the menu every day in the lunchroom
You go, Josh Rales! But don't count on my vote.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Monday, August 14, 2006
I love him, no matter what you say!
Today I found a post on a discussion group about eye contact and how worrisome it was when your baby did not gaze at you for hours like all the books said he would. I recognized myself a few months ago in these freaked out mothers and I wanted to warn them away from reading too much into any one thing.
I described my whole ordeal, including my obsession with my son having autism and my possible PPD. I talked about how our son had to endure an MRI and blood work. I shared how he has mild delays that could amount to someting or nothing at all. I talked about my frustration at not knowing what the future will bring for my son. My aim was to illustrate how I have ruined my baby's first few months and to help others avoid the same fate by STAYING OFF THE INTERNET.
The web is full of horrible neurological diseases and random lists of symptoms for autism. My personal favorites are the sites that detail how a parent was certain his or her child was autistic from a very early age. I took them as gospel at first, then I noticed that some of them were kinda unreliable. One person would say that they knew absolutely when their child would stiffen when picked up and the other would say that his epiphany came when the child went limp when picked up. Hmmm...It's so easy to lose perspective and to see your child in a list of so-called red flags. Most days I log off convinced that I myself have some sort of syndrome. Or a brain tumor.
I was not looking for sympathy, I was just putting my two cents in about how a little worry about your child's development can turn into a ginormous problem. Well, I certainly did not get much sympathy. One poster accused me of not loving my child and only wanting a perfect baby. She ranted that I was giving up on him way too soon and that if I didn't love him unconditionally, who would? Then she recommended some odd self-help book about intellectual learning through kinetic pursuits.
What the hell did I do to inspire such a diatribe? It's amazing to me how critical mothers are of one another, no matter how little they know of a situation. I lurk on an ASD support board and all of the moms there are really inspirational. They work so hard to get everything their kids deserve. Yet they take the time to fire shots off at people who don't believe that vaccines cause autism or who don't follow the GFCF diet.
I have been guilty of this many times, I will add. I don't really have much respect for moms who blindly follow Dr. Sears and his love of the family bed. Our kids always sleep in their own rooms and beds and if we have anything to say about it, they always will. I also find it soooo much easier when we adhere to a pretty strict schedule of naps and meals and walks. We truly believe that kids do better when they know what is coming. So, when my friend who will NOT follow any sort of a schedule gripes about how her son will not nap at all, I have little sympathy. In fact, I notice a certain smugness in my heart that I just don't like. Maybe G. is here to teach me that I have nothing to be smug about, that I may very well be that mother with kids who won't sleep or who destroy the grocery store while everyone stares.
I described my whole ordeal, including my obsession with my son having autism and my possible PPD. I talked about how our son had to endure an MRI and blood work. I shared how he has mild delays that could amount to someting or nothing at all. I talked about my frustration at not knowing what the future will bring for my son. My aim was to illustrate how I have ruined my baby's first few months and to help others avoid the same fate by STAYING OFF THE INTERNET.
The web is full of horrible neurological diseases and random lists of symptoms for autism. My personal favorites are the sites that detail how a parent was certain his or her child was autistic from a very early age. I took them as gospel at first, then I noticed that some of them were kinda unreliable. One person would say that they knew absolutely when their child would stiffen when picked up and the other would say that his epiphany came when the child went limp when picked up. Hmmm...It's so easy to lose perspective and to see your child in a list of so-called red flags. Most days I log off convinced that I myself have some sort of syndrome. Or a brain tumor.
I was not looking for sympathy, I was just putting my two cents in about how a little worry about your child's development can turn into a ginormous problem. Well, I certainly did not get much sympathy. One poster accused me of not loving my child and only wanting a perfect baby. She ranted that I was giving up on him way too soon and that if I didn't love him unconditionally, who would? Then she recommended some odd self-help book about intellectual learning through kinetic pursuits.
What the hell did I do to inspire such a diatribe? It's amazing to me how critical mothers are of one another, no matter how little they know of a situation. I lurk on an ASD support board and all of the moms there are really inspirational. They work so hard to get everything their kids deserve. Yet they take the time to fire shots off at people who don't believe that vaccines cause autism or who don't follow the GFCF diet.
I have been guilty of this many times, I will add. I don't really have much respect for moms who blindly follow Dr. Sears and his love of the family bed. Our kids always sleep in their own rooms and beds and if we have anything to say about it, they always will. I also find it soooo much easier when we adhere to a pretty strict schedule of naps and meals and walks. We truly believe that kids do better when they know what is coming. So, when my friend who will NOT follow any sort of a schedule gripes about how her son will not nap at all, I have little sympathy. In fact, I notice a certain smugness in my heart that I just don't like. Maybe G. is here to teach me that I have nothing to be smug about, that I may very well be that mother with kids who won't sleep or who destroy the grocery store while everyone stares.
Entering the blogosphere...
I have no idea why I am introducing myself, since I sincerely hope that no one will ever read this blog. I am a stay at home mom with a 2 1/2 year old daughter and a four month old son. This blog is meant to serve as a form of therapy for me, not to regale the bored public with accounts of poo-poo diapers and food refusal. Not that I couldn't provide both if asked...
Who am I? Well, I am 33 years old and have been married for 4 years (anniversary was last week). I love dogs, frogs and Jane Austen, especially Persuasion. I can live without cats, the leggings-under-miniskirt look and moms who flaunt organic crackers at the playground. I loathe spiders, beets and Ann Coulter. I like to think that I learned something as an English major at a top 20 university, but I am sure my grammar is lacking from time to time. I have a degree in graphic design and photography that I have never really used. Okay, I do make some kick-ass scrapbook pages, but I guess that doesn't really count. I speak some French and understand a lot more than I can say, but you'd have to ask my in-laws whether that statement is really true.
That's all I can say about me right now. It's kind of hard to define yourself when you have to keep one ear trained on the door at all times--naptime is prime time for mutiny!
Who am I? Well, I am 33 years old and have been married for 4 years (anniversary was last week). I love dogs, frogs and Jane Austen, especially Persuasion. I can live without cats, the leggings-under-miniskirt look and moms who flaunt organic crackers at the playground. I loathe spiders, beets and Ann Coulter. I like to think that I learned something as an English major at a top 20 university, but I am sure my grammar is lacking from time to time. I have a degree in graphic design and photography that I have never really used. Okay, I do make some kick-ass scrapbook pages, but I guess that doesn't really count. I speak some French and understand a lot more than I can say, but you'd have to ask my in-laws whether that statement is really true.
That's all I can say about me right now. It's kind of hard to define yourself when you have to keep one ear trained on the door at all times--naptime is prime time for mutiny!
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