I have been trying way too hard lately. I've actually been effort-ing. See? Even then. I tried so hard to make effort a verb, and you know what? (what?) It didn't work. Me trying is never a good idea. You would think after 22 years of trying very hard and failing miserably, I would know that by now.
What I am good at is not trying. Exhibit A. I wasn't trying to get pregnant and guess who is 7 1/2 months with child?
Me
I am very good at getting pregnant (sexy) without any planning or practicing (so to speak) or any of that nonsense.
Anytime I genuinely give it the old college try, though, I end up stressing out, buying Oreos, eating Oreos, and then looking back at the accomplishments incurred from the previous efforts and realize that all I have accomplished is consuming a lot of sort-of-food. Now, it's not all that bad seeing as how my failure just involved me getting to eat a lot of sort-of-cookies, but the point is that I am a neurotic white young woman with a bulging belly (75% baby/baby related goo, 25% Oreos) and these attributes make me a very uncomfortable person. I'm tired of being so uncomfortable all the time.
(Side note: My cat just tried to scratch the couch so I threw an uncrinkled napkin at her to scare her. If you have ever thrown an uncrinkled napkin to instill fear and communicate rage, you realize that the aerodynamics and physical composition of a singular napkin prevent those goals from being achieved. I include this because I, again, tried something and failed.)
I got the West side of my brain telling me to WORK HARD DAMMIT! YOU ARE ABOUT TO HAVE A BABY AND LIFE IS ABOUT TO BE SO DIFFICULT THAT YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING ONCE THE BABY IS HERE! YOU NEED TO WORK SO THAT YOU CAN PROVIDE FOR YOUR BABY! WORK! ARE YOU WORKING!? WHILE YOU ARE WORKING YOU NEED TO BE THINKING ABOUT FUTURE WORKING ENDEAVORS! YOU NEED TO TEACH YOUR CHILD THE VALUE OF HARD WORK WHILE IT IS STILL IN YOUR WOMB! PLAY CLASSICAL MUSIC ON YOUR BELLY SO THAT YOUR BABY WILL START WORKING! OH AND BY THE WAY, YOU REALLY DO NEED TO FIND A PEDIATRICIAN FOR YOUR BABY! JUST A REMINDER!
Then, I got the hippie East side of my brain telling me chill
Very profound.
The ambitious side of me is like Fox News- stressful, completely unreliable, but motivating in a scary sort of way.
The "zen" side of me (some call it the lazy side) is like a gentle summer breeze or raindrops falling on leaves- peaceful, calming, and a little bit boring (let's just be honest).
I just want so much from this life. I want so much for me, but I also want so much for my family: my husband, my daughter, and my cat. It's hard to desire so much and yet be such a neurotic hippy wannabe. For every desire I have, there is a documentary telling me why it is bad for me! WHY DO I PUT SO MUCH STOCK IN DOCUMENTARIES!?
I know what I should do. Calm down and let life happen. What is meant to pass will pass. But it sure doesn't feel like that at times when the news is yelling at you and life is screaming at you all the time and everything feels so urgent and important.
It is my nature to be anxious. To overthink. To worry. To ramble about how I am anxious, overthink, and like to worry. This is me. So I am going to work on allowing myself to think about the things that sometimes cause me fear and anxiety without allowing them to overwhelm and control me.
Personal growth. I'm working on it.
At least I'm trying to.....
Monday, February 28, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Taxes are taxing. Puns are lovely.
Working an 11 hour day in a tax office makes you question some things.
This is what I got out of today:
-The last name "Nutt" is funny. I don't care who you are.
-When people try to argue with me about better competitor's prices, it takes everything in my power to care enough to respond
-Being pregnant automatically makes people like you in a tax office (unlike at a gym where everyone hates your awkward body for existing)
-Because I have to be so nice and polite to customers on the outside, my thoughts are becoming more and more bitter and nasty by the hour.
This is what I got out of today:
-The last name "Nutt" is funny. I don't care who you are.
-When people try to argue with me about better competitor's prices, it takes everything in my power to care enough to respond
-Being pregnant automatically makes people like you in a tax office (unlike at a gym where everyone hates your awkward body for existing)
-Because I have to be so nice and polite to customers on the outside, my thoughts are becoming more and more bitter and nasty by the hour.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Snap, Crackle, Pop
Ok I am done. Done done done.
I have been faker than a silicon tit lately. I have been working so hard to be a good wife, a good soon-to-be mother, a good responsible adult, and my soul is withering. Writing, painting,...HECK existing have been nearly impossible lately, and I know it is because I am suppressing myself.
It all started when I tried to stop cussing. A noble cause. A worthwhile endeavor. But a bunch of bullshit.
From there, I tried to be this great housekeeper that makes my husband's lunch every evening, cooks him dinner, listens to him talk about his day and gives him brilliant and loving emotional support. Have you ever heard a more ridiculous thing!?
Ok. The whole being a good wife thing is not all that absurd, but I did subconciously feel this pressure to live up to his standards, his family's standards, my family's standards, the great Jesus' standards (I'm still stuck on the whole 'Boo Satan' post from earlier. Oh you don't know what I'm talking about? Maybe you should stop doing things in your own life and spend a little more time reading my blog), and my OBGYN's standards (the woman is so smart and sophisticated and old and wise and sassy! I can't compare to that!), and to Natalie Portman's standards (she's pregnant and a vegetarian and has a shoeline!). In all my efforts to live a "good" life that satisfies so many different people's expectations, I forgot about my own.
Yeah.... some people in my life don't like that I cuss and make Jesus jokes. Many of those people are important in my life. But you know what is more important? Being funny. So, sorry, people.
Some people don't like that I am always right. Well, sorry people, but I wasn't Novice Princess for the ASTO baton twirling organization when I was 10 for nothing. It was because I was born to be royalty. And as we all know, royalty is never wrong. Look at the Queen of England... (insert any knowledge you have of something cool and correct that the Queen of England has done here. I honestly know nothing.)
I am empowered by my own ridiculous ego. By constantly convincing myself that my shortcomings are just little jokes that I play on myself, I inflate my self-worth so much that no one can hurt me. I am like a really smart, sexy, awesome hot-air balloon (which are already the epitome of sexy). You can't hurt a hot-air balloon. I can't think of one way to stop a hot-air balloon. Not any balloon, really.
Um... have you seen the movie UP?! (again... don't know the relevance....)
You are asking yourself what I am talking about. I am telling you, I couldn't tell you. I am watching Macbeth on Netflix and playing fetch with my cat while my baby kicks me in the ribs. That should explain something...
No?
I tried.
So, I love studying and reading and performing Shakespeare, but sometimes I just think it's just too much. No one is that important. Not even Shakespeare. Honestly... he didn't even have a reality show...Snookie has a dang reality show.
A lot of things have been said here today. I'm going to let you have some time to think on all this.
By the way, this post is probably very similar to the kind of lecture I will give when I become a teacher.
-Mrs. Katlyn
I have been faker than a silicon tit lately. I have been working so hard to be a good wife, a good soon-to-be mother, a good responsible adult, and my soul is withering. Writing, painting,...HECK existing have been nearly impossible lately, and I know it is because I am suppressing myself.
It all started when I tried to stop cussing. A noble cause. A worthwhile endeavor. But a bunch of bullshit.
From there, I tried to be this great housekeeper that makes my husband's lunch every evening, cooks him dinner, listens to him talk about his day and gives him brilliant and loving emotional support. Have you ever heard a more ridiculous thing!?
Ok. The whole being a good wife thing is not all that absurd, but I did subconciously feel this pressure to live up to his standards, his family's standards, my family's standards, the great Jesus' standards (I'm still stuck on the whole 'Boo Satan' post from earlier. Oh you don't know what I'm talking about? Maybe you should stop doing things in your own life and spend a little more time reading my blog), and my OBGYN's standards (the woman is so smart and sophisticated and old and wise and sassy! I can't compare to that!), and to Natalie Portman's standards (she's pregnant and a vegetarian and has a shoeline!). In all my efforts to live a "good" life that satisfies so many different people's expectations, I forgot about my own.
Yeah.... some people in my life don't like that I cuss and make Jesus jokes. Many of those people are important in my life. But you know what is more important? Being funny. So, sorry, people.
Some people don't like that I am always right. Well, sorry people, but I wasn't Novice Princess for the ASTO baton twirling organization when I was 10 for nothing. It was because I was born to be royalty. And as we all know, royalty is never wrong. Look at the Queen of England... (insert any knowledge you have of something cool and correct that the Queen of England has done here. I honestly know nothing.)
I am empowered by my own ridiculous ego. By constantly convincing myself that my shortcomings are just little jokes that I play on myself, I inflate my self-worth so much that no one can hurt me. I am like a really smart, sexy, awesome hot-air balloon (which are already the epitome of sexy). You can't hurt a hot-air balloon. I can't think of one way to stop a hot-air balloon. Not any balloon, really.
Um... have you seen the movie UP?! (again... don't know the relevance....)
You are asking yourself what I am talking about. I am telling you, I couldn't tell you. I am watching Macbeth on Netflix and playing fetch with my cat while my baby kicks me in the ribs. That should explain something...
No?
I tried.
So, I love studying and reading and performing Shakespeare, but sometimes I just think it's just too much. No one is that important. Not even Shakespeare. Honestly... he didn't even have a reality show...Snookie has a dang reality show.
A lot of things have been said here today. I'm going to let you have some time to think on all this.
By the way, this post is probably very similar to the kind of lecture I will give when I become a teacher.
-Mrs. Katlyn
Thursday, February 3, 2011
I'm smart
I should not be allowed to watch documentaries. I know this because I watched a documentary about it. As soon as I watch a documentary, I feel compelled to change my whole life. I can't keep doing this! But hot damn! We have streaming Netflix now and there are so many options!
Right now I am watching a documentary about the crazy competitive nursery scene in New York. Parents will pay $20,000 per semester and endure a grueling interview and admissions process to get their child into the best nursery. Nursery.
My daughter isn't going to nursery. I'm just dropping the kid off at the public library while I go run errands. She will get plenty of exposure to different cultures. She will be surrounded by books and other educational resources. Not to mention, she will get to practice her survival skills because shit can get real in a public library. I saw more criminal activity in the Tacoma Public Library than on an episode of Cops. This is what I look for in a nursery.
What I learned from this documentary: Parents are stupid. They get so blinded by trying to raise the "perfect" child and trying to give them the most opportunities in life that they lose sight of what is really good for their kids in the first place. Kids do not need laptops at age 3. I watched a documentary about how laptops can lower people's sperm count because they sit them on their laps all day!They do not need to start working on their resume at birth. I watched a documentary about how babies with resumes are more likely to become pathological liars and eventually murderers! Children need to enjoy life, and from what I can tell, stupid people tend to have a lot more fun in this life. So screw preschool!
I wouldn't know for sure about the whole stupid people thing, though, because I'm so smart. I watch a lot of documentaries so that's how you can tell.
Right now I am watching a documentary about the crazy competitive nursery scene in New York. Parents will pay $20,000 per semester and endure a grueling interview and admissions process to get their child into the best nursery. Nursery.
My daughter isn't going to nursery. I'm just dropping the kid off at the public library while I go run errands. She will get plenty of exposure to different cultures. She will be surrounded by books and other educational resources. Not to mention, she will get to practice her survival skills because shit can get real in a public library. I saw more criminal activity in the Tacoma Public Library than on an episode of Cops. This is what I look for in a nursery.
What I learned from this documentary: Parents are stupid. They get so blinded by trying to raise the "perfect" child and trying to give them the most opportunities in life that they lose sight of what is really good for their kids in the first place. Kids do not need laptops at age 3. I watched a documentary about how laptops can lower people's sperm count because they sit them on their laps all day!They do not need to start working on their resume at birth. I watched a documentary about how babies with resumes are more likely to become pathological liars and eventually murderers! Children need to enjoy life, and from what I can tell, stupid people tend to have a lot more fun in this life. So screw preschool!
I wouldn't know for sure about the whole stupid people thing, though, because I'm so smart. I watch a lot of documentaries so that's how you can tell.
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