And for some non-controversial topics

Welcome to the Saturday edition of Jodifur. I have so many questions to answer a weekend break was out of the question. (Actually, I normally blog on the weekends. I know some bloggers don't but I do). And just a reminder. Tomorrow is the Blog Exchange. This months task was to pick your favorite post, and I really love the post I picked. (Feel free to guess or name your favorite post!). Monday is month two of Small Change. After that I have a few more questions to answer and then I have to start coming up with my own topics again! Lesley asks "do you ever freak out about Michael growing up? Do you wonder what the next stage holds and how you will adapt?" Um yeah, all the time. Sometimes I freak out about Michael not growing up, that something is going to happen to him. And other times I worry about what is going to happen when he goes to college, or gets married. Boys aren't always so great about keeping in touch with their parents, and I can't imagine not talking to him. Right now I am freaking out a bit about preschool. Michael is currently in a home daycare 3 days a week that runs a little preschool program. The plan was just to keep him there until he started kindergarten. Everyone keeps telling me I can't do that. He has to go to a real pre-school. With desks, and classes. Otherwise he will be behind in Kindergarten. I acknowledge these people are crazy, but what if his home daycare is not educational enough? So I've started researching preschool programs. He won't go until September of 2008 (he'll be 3 1/2, and I'm not moving him this September at 2 1/2, I know slacker mom), we need to register him in September of 2007. Seriously, the whole thing just makes me tired. Robbin asks "I see on your profile that you are into child advocacy law. How do you handle it emotionally while being a Mom?" I get asked this question a lot. I normally just don't think about it. The kids I see are so far removed from Michael, that the comparison doesn't even cross my mind. My first case back from maternity leave was a child the same age as Michael, and that was hard. I wasn't sure then if I could do it. But normally, it's not a problem. The cases make me madder now then they did before I had a child. I don't think I got how unnatural it was for a parent to hurt a child until I was a parent.

Now to get to the controversial questions

Jen asked "what made you so strongly pro-choice?" I have been thinking about how to answer this since Jen asked. And the answer is, I don't understand how you can't be pro-choice. I mean, I guess if you believe life begins at conception then you believe abortion is murder, but I just simply can't understand or sympathize with that belief. Not to sound trite, but noone is going to make you have an abortion. Therefore, what difference does it make to you if other people have one? To me, it seems like such a fundamental right for a woman to decide what to do with her body, and yes, I believe a fetus before it develops into a baby is a part of the woman's body. I work in family violence, where I see children being beaten and neglected and abused. Many are told they are unwanted. Yes, I know you can give a child up for adoption, but lets be honest, that process is not so easy either. And who are we to tell a woman who has been raped, or whose parents will beat her if they find out she is pregnant, or a woman who simply cannot care for a baby emotionally and/or physically, that she has to have it? In my mind, you are ruining two lives, not just one. There are lots of issues that I can see both sides of, but on this one I just can't. I don't see the pro-life, or as I call them, anti-choice, side at all. (I'm sure I just lost a ton of readers). Erin asked "you say in your about blurb that you're pretty sure Michael will be an only child. How come?" I pointed Erin to these two posts in the archives in order to answer her question- http://jodifur.blogspot.com/2006/12/backstory.html http://jodifur.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-hard-deciding-to-be-different.html Now, I'm going to make a big confession on this post, (it's also a way to check that Doug reads the blog), every so often I doubt my decision. I think, well, maybe we will have another one in a few years. I know lots of people like to have their kids very close together, but I think 5 years is the perfect age difference. The older one can help with the younger one, and the idea of having two babies makes me catatonic. But then I remember all the reasons Michael is going to be an only. The reasons discussed on the posts above, but there are more. If we had all the money in the world and I was a stay at home mom, sure, I'd have another. But we don't and I'm not. If we could afford a bigger house, I'd have another. But we can't, and we can't have two babies in our tiny townhouse. Seriously, we can barely have one baby in our tiny townhouse. And there is still the concern about my health and everything else. But once in a while I start to think, well maybe.... (And if that is not a reason to keep reading this blog, I don't know what is).

A break in our regular scheduled programming

I have been diligently answering questions and saving them as blog posts all week, and I had one scheduled to post today, but I need to break in to ask this very important question? What the hell is the matter with people? And, is it me or the rest of the world? (OK, that's two questions). Before I describe the two experiences that led me to want to scream at the world, let me pimp my interview at Jail Diet. Tiffany, who is a frequent reader here, is doing this really cool thing where she is interviewing her favorite bloggers (I'm still shocked anyone reads this, let alone that I am anyone anyone's favorite anything). The questions were great and fun, and you could tell she really spent some time here to come up with these questions. Now, the rantiness. I've been taking Michael to my neighborhood playground everyday around 4. The past 3 days in a row two little 5 year old girls (I asked how old they are) are on the playground, by themselves. (It's a law where I live that a child may not be unsupervised until they are 8, besides that 5 is really young). Putting that aside, they are horribly mean to Michael. Throw mulch at him, one spit at him, another one swung into him and he started to cry and said "no babies on the playground." They tell him to go away and won't let him go down the slide. Luckily, Michael is so good natured, that besides for the swing incident he hasn't really noticed. But, this behavior is despicable. Yesterday I asked them where they lived, one wouldn't tell me (because she has a brain in her head), and the other one pointed to her house. I knocked on the door, and told the mom about her daughter not being allowed to be unsupervised and her torturing of my two year old. She didn't even apologize. She just said she would get her. Then, the other 5 year old was left there alone. Is it me? Would you really leave your 5 year old alone at a playground? And, if a parent told me my child spit at another child, let alone a two year old, I would be mortified. So, that's people suck instance #1 Today, I go to the dentist for a regular scheduled cleaning. The hygienist, no lie, TELLS ME I am bulimic. Why, you ask? Because the enamel on my teeth is wearing off. After I insist to her I am not bulimic she looks at my chart and says, "oh, your generation got fluoride treatments, that can take the enamel off your teeth." She couldn't have started there and ended with bulimia? She then told me my lower lip is uncooperative and I not brushing my teeth correctly and accused my parents of either not sending me to the orthodontist or being cheap in the orthodontia because I have a tooth that is crooked. In all honesty, I spent my teenage years in braces and am not doing it again. I have a tooth that shifted later in life, and there is no way I'm wearing braces again. Um, hello, this is your customer service? You are telling me I have an eating disorder without even looking at my chart? You think I grew up dirt poor and my parents didn't take care of me? Keep it to yourself please. And so I ask, is it me? What is the matter with people? Tomorrow, back to questions. And I'm answering the controversial ones.

My Secrets exposed

Emily asks "So...what is the reason(s) you don't share your blog with family/friends? Would you ever in the future?" When I first started blogging, I did it on a whim, to give it a try. It didn't make sense to tell my family and friends if it wasn't going to stick around. Now, I don't tell people because I'm not sure I want people I "know" to read my innermost thoughts. When I first blogged I used it a little too much for therapy, but had to take some posts down because I was worried about people finding them. I also don't want people judging me. I think inside I'm still a dorky highschooler, who desperately wants to be part of the "popular" crowd. I'm worried people will think blogging is weird and laugh at me. Do other people feel this way? Especially you "power" bloggers. I know at least one, Hi Beth, reads this. What's it like when people you really know read your blog? Do they think it's weird and bizarre and geeky? I'm not sure if I'll tell them in the future. I guess I assume in my circle of friends and family no one reads blogs. But I'm sure at some point I will be outed. Beth asks, "Why don't you like Michael's name?" She knows that I don't from this post. Doug and I didn't find out what gender we were having when I was pregnant. It's a Jewish tradition to name for a deceased relative with the first letter of that persons name, therefore, I needed an "M" since we were naming for my Grandma Minnie and Grandpa Maurice. Doug and I could not agree on names. I like, what Doug calls, "new age names." I wanted Madison for a girl, Mason or Milo for a boy. Doug likes very traditional names. He wanted Meghn for a girl and Malcolm for a boy. I finally got him to agree on Madeline for a girl, and I was thrilled because that is one of my favorite names. But, we could not agree on a boys name (which should have clued me in that I was having a boy, because that is how my life works). Michael was the only name that Doug and I both didn't hate. (He almost passed out when I suggested Milo, he hated it sooo much.) On the way to the hospital, in labor, I said to Doug, we really need a boys name. He said Michael, I said fine, but I hate Mike, so he has to be Michael forever. We already had a middle name, Nolan, which is my Mother in law's maiden name. I will say, though, he is such a Michael. But, I have never really liked the name. It' just so boring and unimaginative. And I still think Milo is really cute.

Questions

I love, love, love the questions you all have been asking. I'm going to start answering them in no particular order. Colleen asked Broken TiVo??? How did you survive? Those of you who have been with me awhile are rolling your eyes and thinking, NO MORE TIVO, PLEASE!!!! I pointed Colleen to the archives and I promise not to go through the whole sage again for those that are bored with it. To answer Colleen's question, how did I survive? I complained, a lot. On this blog, to my husband who refused to let me get rid of Direct TV because of the football package, and to all my family and friends. I called Direct TV everyday and bitched them out (that may be the first time I've ever sworn on this blog, I'm not a big swearer). Then, I got a new receiver and the tivo started working again, so I have a non-tivo receiver sitting upstairs in our office that I refuse to hook up because I love tivo so much. Tiffany asked name one thing you would like to learn how to do--if you had all the time in the world? I'd like to be a wine sommelier. In fact, if I could live my life over again I'd skip the law thing and do this. I love wine, and not in a I love to get drunk kind of way (not that there is anything wrong with that). My father has a wine cellar and I love exploring new wines and comparing wines and wine as an art. I've taken a few wine classes with my best friend and had a blast, and I've actually got a pretty good palette. But, the classes are expensive and the work means nights and weekends which I am not wiling to do. The perfect job for me would be to work with a catering company picking wines to serve with meals, because people don't always know how to do that, but not actually going to the event. More answers tomorrow, I promise!

Murphy's Law

Why, oh why, did I ever post that I had nothing to write about? That my life was so boring I had nothing for blog fodder. It's like saying, I've never gotten a speeding ticket. You know you are going to get pulled over the next day. Sun night, right after writing that post, Michael woke up at 10 pm and screamed until 3 am. We could not get him to go back to sleep. Michael does not do that. I know some kids do, but Michael has been sleeping 7-7 since he was 4 months old. (Just so no moms want to kill me, he refused to take a nap until he was a year old, so you get it one way or another). Doug and I had no idea what was wrong. At one point I asked Michael if his throat hurt and he said yes, but I didn't take him seriously. I just thought he didn't want to go back to bed. I took him to the doctor and it turns out a toddler can diagnose themselves. His throat did hurt. It was all red and infected, but not strep. And he's not contagious, so Doug and I didn't have to have the who is staying home from work conversation for 15th bazillion time. So I found blog fodder in my sick kid. But, I love the questions, they are great. Please keep them coming, and I'm going to start answering them tomorrow.

I'm Out

I've been blogging for 4 months, although it seems much longer than that. I started blogging after prompting from my husband and my friend Beth. I've really enjoyed it, and made some new friends, and it's become a form of therapy for me. I still haven't told people in real life and I like it that way. All of a sudden, I have no idea what to say. I am actually out of blog topics. I just re-read what I wrote and I realized that you are probably thinking I am going away. I'm not. I just don't know what to write about. So, I'm doing something scary. I'm inviting readers to ask me questions. Seriously, ask me questions, and I'll answer them. Politics, sex, religion, my favorite color, it's all fair game. And please, if you have never commented before, leave me a question so I know you are out there. I don't have a counter or anything fancy like that. If you do not comment I have no idea you are reading. And I email back if I have a valid email. If you leave me a comment and I do not email you it's because you didn't leave an email address. I'm going to spend the next week or so answering some questions, at last until a new blog topic pops up. Maybe the squirrels will move back in or my tivo will break again, which was blog fodder for weeks.

I'm it (again)

Julie tagged me for a meme. And who am I to say no?

Here are the rules, put up a post "Real Moms [insert what you do here]", followed by an explanation, a picture, and a "Real Moms. Making ....". Then tag five people.

Real Moms know in an instant.

When Michael was born I thought he was dead. See, his heart rate dropped during labor and he was born with the cord around his neck, and when they put him on my stomach he was gray and didn't move. And for that split second, I thought he was dead. Now, looking back I realize that they would not have put him on my stomach if he was in fact dead, but I really honestly did not think he was alive. And I wouldn't touch him. The nurses must have thought I was the coldest person. And finally, the nurse took him away, cleaned him up, and he started to cry. And so did I.

And then, they handed him to me. And our eyes met. And the minute I saw him, I thought, of course, it was you, all along. And I couldn't believe how much he looked like his Dad.

Real Moms. Making (or adopting) babies.

And now the fun part. I tag Beth, Jenn, Allison, Alex, and Robbin.

And, a new part, enter the Real Mom Truths contest! The winner will receive this amazing 4G iPod Nano and Chocolate gift set, plus a link to their post on True Mom Confessions on Mother's Day"

Heartbreak

Shannon pointed me here, and I can't stop crying, and reading it, and crying. I do not know how a parent ever recovers from a losing a child. And I'm sorry there are people out there who don't get it. A parent is a parent, no matter if the child is alive or not. I work in an environment that deals a lot with foster parents and adoptive parents, and they are parents too. As is the biological parent. Step-moms can be moms, Dads can be moms, Aunts can be moms, Grandmas can be moms. For me, mom is not a biological relationship or that you have to physically be mothering to be a mom. It's about love. For Shannon, and all the moms out there who lost their child, please know that there are people who try to understand, even if we really can't. And we are sorry. And we cry for you and Jackson even though we have never met you. And we hug our babies that too much tighter because we know you can't.

I need someone to kick me

I need to lose some weight. My clothes are starting to get tight and I can tell a difference in my body. The problem is, I'm eating like crazy, stuff I never eat, cookies, chips, all this left over party food. (I just read that and it sounds like I'm pregnant. I'm not pregnant, trust me). I was really good for a while. I cut out all white food and sugar and was doing really well. Now, I'm blah. I only go to the gym 2-3 times a week, and I really need to go more. The problem is, I could go to the the gym at 3 when I leave work, or I could go home and get some stuff done (stuff being watch tv I tivoed), or run errands. If I can I go in the morning before work I do that, but lately I've had meetings and trials that makes that impossible. So, please yell at me. Tell me I'd be happier if I made exercise a priority. Tell me I'd like my clothes to fit. Tell me I don't really need to eat cake at every one of the playgroup parties we go to. Because otherwise, instead of 10 pounds to lose I'll have 50.