The Fear of Favoritism

For as long as I can remember my sister and I have felt that our brother is our mother's favorite child. She vehemently denies it and I can see the pain in her eyes when my sister and I point it out to her, but it's just so obvious. We feel it and other people see it. She even said it once. Although, I'm sure she'll go to the grave swearing she never did but she did. I remember the day clearly, my sister, my parents and I were in Petland because we needed a new light bulb for our iguana's heating lamp. My sister and I didn't want to ask a question; we were being stubborn kids and didn't feel like being our parents go-to translators. My mom was probably annoyed from working the whole day then having to tend to her kids' crazy pets, she probably had a migraine, it probably pissed her off that after treating us to Burger King we couldn't do this one little favor for her. There were probably a lot of contributing factors that led her to shout "THIS is why your brother is my favorite!!!" She should've never said it and she'll always deny it but I still remember it. Clearly. Obviously.

When I had Isabella I understood what true all-encompassing & unconditional love felt like. Each passing day of her life illustrated to me that I could never and would never want to love anyone other than her. In other words, when I had Isabella the idea of having more children kind of repelled me. I wanted to selfishly love only Isabella for the rest of my days of my life. I didn't want any more children because I couldn't honestly picture myself loving anyone else as much as I love Isabella. I didn't want to be like my mom and have a favorite but pretend I didn't.

Then I found out I was pregnant.

I've been afraid since two lines showed up on that stick I peed on, sealing my fate as a mommy of two. Everyone has been happy & excited during this pregnancy, especially Isabella. But, a part of me is still nervous that when this little boy is here I'll have a favorite and one of my children will suffer the pain of feeling that favoritism and I'll suffer the pain of knowing I couldn't hide it.

Things I do NOT need right now...

If I didn't have a toddler, a baby on the way, rent, electricity, gas and a phone bill I'd get up and walk out of this place right this second. Why? Because I'm FED the EFF up. I am in no way saying that I need to be treated like a delicate little flower just because I'm pregnant but for Pete's sake have a little mercy on my nerves! I don't think I need to remind these people that I delivered my daughter 6 weeks premature and the ONLY contributing factor that anyone could come up with was STRESS! This place always makes me feel borderline guilty for being pregnant -- like the birth of my child and maternity leave are so detrimental to the entire company! I don't need that sh*t...here's a list of other sh*t I don't need from this wholly awful institution...

• I don't need to be treated as though my pregnancy is some sort of inconvenience for MANAGEMENT.
• I don't need to be pressured until the stress of it all makes me lightheaded and has me on the verge of tears from the injustice of it all.
• I don't need my boss staring at my belly like it's a ticking time bomb that's going to blow up in her face leaving her with *gasp* unfinished work!!
• I don't need to be pushed into finishing everything pending on my desk as if it's all as easy as snapping my fingers.
• I don't need to literally be poked when I overlook an error that frankly was made by my boss in the first place!

I really just don't need anything from this Godforsaken place other than the money.

Sadly, that money really talks.

The Scents of My Childhood

This is just a little something that came to me while on the bus on my way home from work:

A man just hopped on the bus, his scent was instantly familiar. It was the malodorous scent that permeated the parties I attended as a child. Sitting side by side with my siblings, ankles crossed, hands folded in my lap, dressed in itchy frills. It was cheap cologne, beer and a working-man's sweat. Sweat that percolated from pores a few drops at a time before bursting forth in rivulets that streamed down faces that tried to tickle and bite me and eventually shoved a dollar into my little folded hands. The smell of my uncles.

I think it's something I can expand on to include other scents from my childhood. Oscar de la Renta perfume in that tall bottle with a floral embossing on it's front that will always and forever remind me of my mom. The musky smell of sweat and "outside" that's the signature scent of teenaged boys all around the world that reminds me of my early teen years and following around my skater boyfriend.

Expectations

As a child my parents always expected the absolute best from me. I've always been the brainy one, so anything less than the best was not acceptable. It wasn't that they wanted MY best but THE best. That's tough to live up to, but I always did well anyway so it was tolerable. My father was the pushy one for the most part. An A wasn't good enough, why wasn't it an A+? My mother was always proud of anything I did, as long as I did well she was happy.

Given that I grew up with such high expectations from my parents, I guess it rubbed off on me and I have nothing but high hopes for my children. So, when I saw a cousin of mine post her son's report card with THREE C's on her Facebook page I was confused. I wouldn't be flaunting Isabella's report card if it had three C's on it (regardless if the other grades were two B's and an A like her son's) and I definitely wouldn't be patting myself on the back and writing off the report card as a job well done on my part. To be perfectly honest, I'd be disappointed.

Is that wrong...?

I shared my feelings with Isabella's father and he said he WOULD be proud of Isabella "just as long as she passes." That's it? Just as long as she passes? What kind of goals will Isabella have if all we ever want/expect from her is the bare minimum? I'm not saying I want Isabella (or my son on the way) to be a super genius and anything less will cause them to be the bane of my existence. Not at all!! Unlike my father, I just want them to do THEIR best, that doesn't mean they have to be THE best. As long as they challenge themselves and do the absolute best they can then I'll be happy. I do not want my kids to just skate by in life. Their dad on the other hand seems like just getting by would be fine by him. He said to me "you have your degree and what has that gotten you?"

On some level he's right. I went to private school from kindergarten to 8th grade, graduated high school as a member of the Honor's Society, a Regents endorsed diploma and ranked 60 out of 519 students academically. I went on to Hunter College, where I obtained a BA in Media Studies. Now, I have a  job as an Intake Coordinator at a home care agency where I make a measly $15 an hour. He was born and raised in Guatemala, did some of his elementary schooling here in the states, was shipped back to Guatemala for bad behavior, came back and got his GED. Now, he's a receptionist at a dental office where he makes a measly $15 an hour. To be fair, his boss is his uncle's "special friend" so his pay rate is higher than that of any of his co-worker's -- it's favoritism. But on the same note, it sucks! He really hasn't done anything compared to me, academically, but he makes the same amount as I do. Although, this could be the infamous "glass ceiling" that people talk about...

What ever the reason and what ever my kids turn out to be like I'll continue to help them do their best and never expect anything less than the results of their hard work.

Which, ultimately, I guess, means I would be proud of three C's if I knew my kids worked hard for those C's. If they didn't then I'd do MY part as their mom to encourage them and inspire them to DO BETTER, isn't that what we're here for anyway?

Pregnancy: Version 2.0

A while ago I came the realization that I am much more nervous with this pregnancy. I was discussing this with my friend (who is also pregnant for the second time) yesterday. She only has 9 weeks left until her due date while I have 18. My heart literally skips a beat every time I think about those pains, that delivery room, the sleepless nights, the tiny breakable baby -- I'm FREAKING out! Thankfully, she is too!

Isabella is such a breeze now, being her mom isn't scary anymore. Being her mom is fun and easy. She's almost two years old and my latest venture in raising her is a foray into making bento lunches for her to take to grandma's. While pregnant with Isabella, I had my first time mom fears; is this car ride too bumpy? Why haven't I felt her move yet? Is this much discharge normal (seriously, though)?! Now with this second pregnancy all of those first time mom fears aren't an issue, it's the knowledge of what's to come.

I'm being given progesterone shots to prevent preterm labor (since Isabella was six weeks early), so at least that worry has been assuaged. But what about everything else? What if this labor isn't as quick as Isabella's? This baby will be full-term, hence bigger. Will it be a long drawn out labor? Will I give in to the epidural this time? With Isabella labor was 5.5 hours if that and then she was out, by the time I arrived at the hospital I was already 6 cm dilated. There really wasn't any time for an epidural. Having Isabella ALL NATURAL is a badge of honor I wear very proudly! But what if this time I'm more like my sister who was stuck at 3 cm for hours?! Or what if, horror of horrors, I need a c-section this time? I don't know why none of these fears assailed me with Isabella, but they didn't.Then there's the issue of maternity leave. I only get "paid" for six weeks of short-term disability. Which in reality only comes to less than what I make biweekly when I'm working. I have rent to pay now, electric, gas, a phone bill, oh and yes I have a two year old! Where am I going to get the money necessary to keep us afloat? And of course let's not forget the hospital bill!!!

Ultimately, I am overjoyed to be having my little boy but his arrival comes with a whole boat-load of worries.

Still, I adore him.

The Giraffe that Saved Me

My daughter is away for a weekend with her father. They've gone upstate and I'm oncall this weekend so I can't go along. He took her Friday night, I had just enough time to say good-bye. It was heart-wrenching. When their ride came I couldn't face her dad's family. I wanted to spit in their faces and step on their feet. I despised them in that moment. They were ripping her out of my arms in that instant and that's unforgiveable. Especially when you're under the influence of pregnancy hormones.

I went upstairs to our apartment and saw her favorite giraffe staring up at me from her crib.

I grabbed him and cried myself to sleep.

For two nights that giraffe was my only ally. He was all I had to cuddle with to remind me of her.

Did I miss her dad? Yes, I did but it wasn't his absence that made me feel like there was literally a part of me that was missing. My heart, my soul, my reason for being was not with me. I had the new little life growing inside of me but Isabella's absence made me feel like I'd cry until I simply ran out of tears.

Maybe it was overdramatic but I don't think I'll ever spend a weekend away from her again. Unless it's her choice.

Long Live Netflix!

I moved out of my mom's house six months ago and I still don't have cable. And let me say right now that being completely tv-less ain't easy! I totally miss it and so does my daughter. She doesn't watch much TV, I don't want her to be one of those kids who just sits in front of a TV for hours and doesn't get out and play or read books but when she's at my mom's she gets to watch (for a span of about 5 minutes at a time) what ever she wants. She's gotten accustomed to taking breaks from wreaking havoc to have some down time with Linny, Tuck and Ming-Ming, but once she gets home it's all DVD's and after 6 months -- she's pretty much seen them all. So, ultimately down-time at home for her can be pretty boring.

When we first moved out, when we were bored, my boyfriend and I pretty much hijacked my sister's Netflix account so that we'd all be able to watch NEW things. Then two short months after moving in, my apartment was robbed. They took the laptop, the Wii, the TVs, the PS3...you get the gist. We lost everything and really had no way to replace it all in one go. Slowly and, lately, thanks to our income tax returns we've started the process of restoring what we'd lost. I bought a Nook for myself in January and we had fun with that -- I read, a lot and solved crossword puzzles,. Isabella had some Read to Me books read to her and my boyfriend used Pandora and played chess (he's more of a gamer than a reader). Then the novelty wore off  for them (mainly because I kind of became addicted and couldn't STOP reading). Around this time, I had expressed my interest in writing for GeekMom and I was contacted shortly thereafter to be a blogger for them (yes, I'm still totally geeked-out over that!). Which meant I would need better access to the internet and more often that every other weekend.

When I got my tax return, I went ahead and purchased a netbook for myself from Walmart.com. I knew at the time that my boyfriend would get his grimy boy paws all over it (even though I bought a girly-patterned one), so I offered to buy him his own, he shrugged it off saying he wouldn't need one. Fast forward to now and he's on it more often than I am and I've reverted back to using the internet on my phone or my Nook. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind sharing my toys, and I'll totally let him use it for as long as he likes and for what ever he likes with no nagging, just like he'll need to surrender it to me when I need to use it for an indefinite amount of time to post my blogs or if I get to it first and just want to do what ever I want.. I even refer to it as "the netbook" instead of "my netbook," so that he doesn't get all touchy about using "my" things. However, more than anything I like it when we can enjoy things as a family. Which is why when I got an offer in the mail from Netflix for a free one month trial, I jumped on it. We get both the DVD (note, not plural we opted for the just 1 DVD at a time deal because we'd lose them if we had more than one in our home at a time) and the watch it instantly selections that we can stream immediately on the netbook. Now we get to sit down as a family, stare at this tiny screen and get entertained for an hour and a half or two. When Isabella is asleep, we watch things we actually want to watch instead of Dora or the Wonder Pets. Sometimes we'll even stay up late watching movies that we wanted to see when they arrived in theatres but were unable to with a tantrum-throwing toddler in tow.

While having a netflix account with it's one DVD at a time and decent selection of watch it now movies and TV shows can't replace cable altogether it has provided a good few hours of fun diversion until we decide whether or not we're going to get cable in our house (I'm still iffy, since it's pretty expensive and I'd rather spend my weekends off taking Isabella to museums and libraries). On that note, it's doing a great job of keeping us from killing each other.