PYHO: Empathy

I think that I am a very caring, sympathetic, and empathetic person.   I'll do anything for the people I care about.

But lately, (let's face it, for the past few years) I've found myself not being empathetic to people when they are seeking pity or are upset about a situation that they had control over.

I have a friend who desperately wants to become a mom.  She tried to get pregnant on her own.  She tried IUIs.  She's now doing IVF.  She had her egg retrieval and it wasn't as successful as it could be.  There's still a chance, but it's not the BEST it could be.

I feel terrible for her.  I feel terrible that someone who wants a child so badly, who deserves a child, who would be a wonderful mother, is having so much trouble. 

Then I have a friend - an old friend - who just had her second child (11.5 years after her first).  A friend who got pregnant on purpose with a boyfriend who didn't want kids, who refuses to accompany her to events like weddings, and who basically is doing nothing for the child.  She wanted to get pregnant because "all of us are getting pregnant and having babies."  This is NOT the reason to have a child.  I don't feel bad for her that he doesn't help, because she knew he wouldn't.  Do I think he's a douche bag?  Sure.  But I don't feel bad for her.

Some people aren't meant to be parents.  Some of these people know that and choose not to get pregnant and take steps to ensure there is no oops.  Some of these people keep having children, either because they are idiots that can't use birth control or because there is some other reason I can't fathom.

Some people think they aren't meant to be parents, then they have a child and can't believe they ever thought that.

I don't feel bad for my MIL because she didn't see her grandchildren on Halloween.  I don't feel bad when your grandchildren all live within 3 blocks of each other, were all together on Halloween, but you couldn't come by and see them because "it's too far to drive."  So we're supposed to load up our kids, in costume, on Halloween, so they miss trick or treating, because you are too lazy?  No thanks.

I feel bad that my parents didn't see their grandchildren on Halloween for obvious reasons.

So as I've gotten older, my empathy has become more selective.  Or maybe, I just am tired of people's bullshit.

To infinity...and beyond! (And some fairy dust)

PJ had an awesome time trick or treating.  Maggie just wanted to eat all the candy.  We had a great Halloween.

I'll be back to my regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.  Hope you had a great Halloween!

Happy Halloween! (And a breaking and entering story)

I will have pics of Buzz and Tinkerbell tomorrow.  :)

On my post from last week, I talked about being choke when a guy broke into my room when I was 15.  A few people have told me to post about it, so in the spirit of scary, here's my story.

It was Labor Day weekend, 1995.  My bedroom was on the first floor of our house.  There'd been rumors of a Peeping Tom in the neighborhood.  A few days before this I swore I saw a face at my window, but my window was far enough off the ground that someone would need a chair to see in, so I blew it off.

Prior to this, I had had recurring dreams that someone was in my room, and I beat him in the head with my phone (my plug-into-the-wall phone, this was 1995 people).

I woke up around 3 in the morning.  I was facing the wall.  I rolled over and saw a man standing in my room, holding my Casio Keyboard.  He was frozen - shocked I woke up most likely.  For a minute, I thought it was my stepdad, for some reason.  After I realized it wasn't, I began screaming.  He dropped the keyboard, jumped on top of me, and wrapped his hands around my throat.

I kicked and punched him with everything I had.  I finally kicked him in the nuts and he went flying off of me.  He jumped out the window.

I screamed and screamed.  Finally, my grandfather (we lived with my grandparents at the time) woke up as I was running out of my room to get my mom and stepdad.  The police were called.  A chair was discovered outside my window.

He ended up taking some jewelry from my dresser.  That's all he got. I ended up getting it back a couple weeks later when the cops busted him for something completely unrelated, and they found it.  It turned out it was some gang initiation thing.

It took me a month or so to be able to sleep in my room again.  And I never, ever left my window open more than the safetly locks let me.

What I've done.

I don't normally do these writing prompts.  But I was intrigued by this one, first, because it's 22 things you have done, and PJ was born on the 22nd, and second, because I think it's a cool thing.

So here goes.

I'm 32 years old and....

1.  I have laughed so hard I've peed in my pants.  Many times.

2.  I have realized that having a shitty childhood has propelled me into ensuring my kids' childhood is fantastic.

3.  I have married my best friend and the love of my life.

4.  I have lost a baby and experienced heartache like nothing I've ever felt before.

5.  I watched my favorite, most loved, best dog I ever had or will have die on my kitchen floor.

6.  I have walked down the beach in Maui holding hands with my husband.

7.  I have given birth to two wonderful children, and now watch two pieces of my heart walk around outside my body.

8.  I have known and continue to know what it is to have true friends.

9.  I've been choked by someone who broke into my bedroom at night.

10.  I have gone to 4 Bears games, all of which they've won (I think that's a sign).

11.  I have seen my husband become a man.  When his father died, he became a man unlike anyway he was before.  He became a rock, a symbol of strength, for his sister, his family.  As much as his heart hurts, I've never been more proud of him.

12.  I have had a child repeatedly vomit all over me and not cared at all, because all I wanted was for him to feel better.

13.  I've cried because I couldn't figure out why my baby girl was so upset when I laid her down.

14.  I've learned that losing someone unexpectedly and suddenly is terribly hard and a horrible loss, but waiting everyday for someone to die, watching them wither away, is much, much harder.

15.  I've discovered that the smile I get from PJ and Maggie when I pick them up from day care is the best part of my day. 

16.  I've seen true love in action. 

17.  I have never worn makeup in my life, except for the plays I was in in high school.

18.  I've learned to make my grandmother's and mom's gravy (spaghetti sauce for you non-Italians) but I've also always known it will NEVER taste as good as theirs.

19.   I have had part of my kidney removed due to kidney stones.  I have an eight inch scar.  Kidney stones are worse than giving birth.  I promise.

20.  I've loved with my whole heart, but I've also hated with my whole soul.

21.  I had the perfect wedding and I wouldn't change anything about it.

22.  I have made a family, out of the love I have for my husband, and he for me, and the love we have for our children.  No matter what else happens in life, I will always have my happinesses.

PYHO: Cruel and Unusual Punishment

I read something on Facebook the other day.  It was something along the lines of "I pretend to sympathize with my friends when they complain about fighting with their mothers, when I wish I had a mother around to fight with."

Technically, my mother is still here.

Well, her body is.

I would give ANYTHING to have an argument with her.  To get exasperated with her, to complain to John about how annoying she is.

I'd give anything to call her and tell her that PJ said water last night.

I'd give anything to have her come over Saturday night to baby-sit.

I'd give anything to have her sign my birthday card.  Or come to my kids' birthday parties.  Or send me an email. 

To hear her say she loves me.

To have her hug me back.

To have a girls day where we go to lunch, and to the spa, and shopping.

To have her make me egg salad.

I wish she knew that PJ loves bananas.

I wish she knew that Maggie loves grapes.

I wish she knew that PJ loves Buzz, Cars, trains, and dinosaurs.

I wish she knew that Maggie says hi, bye, ma, da, and mine.

I wish I would have known sooner that the last years she'd be alive would be cruel and unrelentless.  That they would consist of her being trapped in a body that doesn't work, unable to speak, eat, move or enjoy any part of life.

I wish I could bring myself to go see her more.  I wish it didn't make me so depressed, so sad, so helpless that I would rather not see her.

I wish I could help my stepdad.  He is overwhelmed.  He won't get hospice since she won't accept that she needs it.  I worry everyday something would happen to him.

I wish she would die so I could finish mourning her properly.  So she could no longer be in pain.  Be suffering be miserable.

It's the worst disease I've ever seen.  It's cruel and heartless.  It affects not only the patient, but everyone who loves them.

Every time I see her, she has withered away a little more.  And every time I see her, I think it can not be possible for her to look or get worse.  And I am proven wrong every time.

Carve any pumpkins lately?

John loves carving pumpkins, and this year, PJ was VERY happy to help Daddy carve his Buzz Lightyear pumpkin.



PJ very intently helping Daddy with the outline of Buzz.

At some point, PJ decided watching Daddy do the carving was boring, so he ended up "carving" his own mini pumpkin by repeatedly poking it with one of the carving tools that he promised to be careful with.

\

It's so awesome to see my husband and my little guy sharing this together.  Just hanging out, starting a tradition that no doubt Maggie will start participating in next year.  I didn't have many family traditions as a kid, and I don't want PJ and Maggie to feel that way when they are older.  This is the first of many, many traditions we have started and will continue to start.

And in case you were wondering, here's the finished product:

John's pretty awesome.  :)

Breweries aren't just for Beer Drinkers

So we went to Goose Island Brewery on Saturday with six of our friends to celebrate John's and our friend Jim's birthdays.

For those of you that don't know, Goose Island is a Brewery operated here in Chicago.  (Yes, they were just merged with Anehauser Busch, but they still brew their own beer in the breweries here in Chicago).  Anyway, we went on a brew tour, then a tasting, and then ate dinner there.

I don't drink beer.  I think all beer tastes the same, but this was not my birthday celebration, plus someone had to drive the drunk beer drinkers home.  However, Goose Island also makes their own pop - Root Beer, Cream Soda, Orange Cream Soda, Grape, etc.

Now.  I was fully planning on getting a Root Beer and a Cream Soda of some kind.  Then I saw this on the menu:

The O:  Orange Cream Soda with Malibu Rum and Vanilla Stoli

Um, I'm sorry.  Did you just make ORANGE CREAM SODA alcoholic?

Sign me up.

It was DELICIOUS.  Unfortunately, I could only have one since I was driving, but WOW.

Then.   THEN. 

They had hot pretzels.  Um.  They had a cheddar jalapeno pretzel with cheese sauce.  OH MY GOD.  If we ever go back, I will order two of those and it will be my MEAL. 

So, if you are ever in Chicago, go to Goose Island if you like beer.  And if you don't like beer, go and get The O and a pretzel.

PRETZEL UPDATE!!!

I JUST FOUND OUT THE PRETZELS IN QUESTION ARE KIM & SCOTT'S GOURMET PRETZELS.  Which you can buy in your local grocer's freezer!!!

I'm going today!!!!!!