WHY DO YOU HATE MY BABY?!

I started writing this blog yesterday.  I always start with my bullet points, and then come back to the intro at the end, as it will usually be based on my mood the day I decided to actually hit "Publish."  Yesterday was a glorious day.  The day flew by with no real disasters, and then I had a great workout, went to the parents for a delicious dinner with the family (thanks mama T) and then watched my favorite show premiere with mama and saster.  Today hasn't been quite as awesome, due to some annoying "road blocks," but I'm going to the Rangers game tonight, so I can't complain because I. Love. The. Rangers. 

I will preface this blog by saying if you are offended at any point while reading this, know that my intentions are pure and I mean no harm or ill feelings.  Also know that you are probably being a little too sensitive, in which case you should steer clear of my blog and Google blogs about cooking or crafts.  Those things couldn't be offensive if they tried.

1. If you know anything at all about me, you know that pointless Facebook statuses bother me.  In general, Facebook bothers me.  I would delete my account if I knew with complete certainty that I wouldn't run back to it the first time someone said "Did you see on Facebook...?" and I didn't.  Most of all, I hate the people who post picture, after picture, after picture, after picture, of themselves.  I hate it even more since last week, when my dear sister-in-law informed me that a Facebook friend of hers made some snarky status about people who post picture, after picture, after picture, after picture of their baby/ies/children.  Now I can't hold this girl completely responsible, as she is apparently not a mother so she doesn't know the true joy of parenthood.  But who in their right mind, gets irritated by pictures of babies!?  I'm sure she was just trying to give my dear (can you tell I like her?) sister-in-law a hint that people don't like looking at pictures of adorable infants all day. Ah, yes.  You figured it out, woman.  People would much rather read about how you just got done with a GREAT workout and are now heading to have drinks on the patio with a friend <3 <3 <3. And can we please get a picture of you in your barely-there workout shorts, too?  It's like a breath of fresh air compared to the picture of my friend's kid's first day of school. (Oh and while we're at it...having drinks on the patio immediately after what you deem to be a worthwhile exercise session kind of defeats the purpose ya' idiot.)

2. I'm nervous about having a little mini-me running around for a number of reasons.  Most notably though, I am nervous about people grabbing at my tummy while I'm preggo, and even more notably, my baby, after he/she pops out of there. (That's my eloquent way of describing the miracle of birth. Nice, huh?)  I see it all the time.  In crowded rooms, it's like people (women most frequently) lose all sense of decency and personal space, and just grab at the baby like it's a sample at Costco.  I'm not worried about it because I'm some germophobe, but as someone who thinks personal space is something not to be taken lightly, I think just grabbing at someone's child, especially a newborn or infant, like it's a God-given right, is just ludicrous! I am fascinated by big boobs, considering the good Lord forgot to give me a pair of decent-sized real ones, but you don't see me goin' around grabbing people's chests just because it's something they have that I  want!  I ask before grabbing! (kidding.) Just as people should ask before grabbing at a mother's child (a human being, mind you).

I only have two bullets, because my day ended on a slightly sour note.  (I haven't got my gear on for tonight yet, though, so I'm sure it will turn right around once I'm decked out in beloved red and blue. Also...I'm not a mom.  So come back to me in a few years and I'll have a "WHY DO YOU HATE MY BABY?! Part II")

You stay classy, Cyberspace.

Application for Designating of Idiots to Restricted Places Committee

I wish I could save the world.  From exactly what I'm not entirely sure...it's tough to pinpoint the source of the frustration I feel at how messed up this planet is.  To be completely honest, I wish I could take over the world.  I think I have at least one person behind me, and I'm not sure if he's only behind me because of that vow we made a couple years back, or because he gets bored easily...but most times when I ask "What do you want to do tonight, shnookums?" He replies: "Same thing we do every night, Pinky....try to take over the world."  It's comforting to know we're on the same page.

I'm not exactly sure what my strategy will be once I'm Ruler of the World (and inherently, since I will govern space research, Ruler of All Planets and Extraterrestrial Life), but I have a few ideas up my sleeve.  My main idea involves implementing the "eye for an eye" strategy in the judicial system...as well as designating uninhabited (but ugly) countries as permanent living space for idiots.  For the latter, I will need a trusty committee to decide who these "idiots" may be, so if you think your definition matches mine, send me your resume, please.

But to help you in the process, I will give examples of said "idiots" and let you decide for yourself if you're up to the task of serving on the Designating of Idiots to Restricted Places Committee.  If you find yourself nodding your head while reading the below examples, and muttering to yourself "I know exactly the kind of person she's talking about...and I hate them to," then apply away.  However, if you find yourself distracted while reading, thinking instead of counter-arguments and rebuttals to my examples...then don't waste your time applying.  Oh, and get off my blog.

Remember, these are just examples.  If you need further clarification, stay tuned, as I'm sure I'll give more later.

Exhibit A:

I was watching a special last night on the 9/11 attacks, and hubs and I got to discussing the controversies laced throughout that tragic day and the events that followed.  I remember the grief President Bush got after footage was aired showing his reaction immediately after someone whispered to him that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.  People were outraged that after he got the news, he calmly resumed his reading with elementary school students, looking impassive and unaffected.  To those people who feel as if his reaction directly mirrored his thoughts when he received this news, and who subsequently believe it reflected his disappointing presidency and lack of sympathy for the victims of 9/11, I wonder how they would react were they in the same situation.  Would they prefer that he had shot out of his chair and waved his arms around, outraged, shouting orders as he ran frantically out of the room?  Would they prefer he had hung his head in sorrow and began weeping in front of the class?  Or perhaps they wish he had simply informed the class that thousands of people had just lost their lives after a possibly-hijacked airplane crashed into the WTC in New York City, but promised: "Don't worry, I'll take care of it.  Please, continue your reading while I excuse myself."

Exhibit B:

I'm not the sharpest tool in the box, but I know there is still racism out there.  I want to change it (hence the whole "taking over the world" plan) but I accept that there are some people so single-minded that they still believe their race is superior to all others.  My issue goes a lot beyond that...to the people who not only believe racism is still out there, but let this belief rule everything about their life. Not to do the cliche dictionary definition thing, but....I'm gonna do it:

Racism: a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races  determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others. 

Those people who "cry wolf" by hollering about how some racist discriminated against them probably never consider that the "perpetrator" is discriminating against THEM, not their race.  I know it's a hard concept to wrap your head around, but perhaps your demeanor is the very thing that's causing you to be pre-judged, and perhaps you are the one jumping to the conclusion that it's your race.

Exhibit C: (don't worry this one's not as deep)

My mama raised me right, and I plan to mirror her parenting advice to a "T" when I have some little rugrats of my own. She didn't necessarily write the book "How to Raise Your Child Right."  (Man, that would make an editors' skin crawl.)  She practiced what some would call "unorthodox" parenting methods, but overall I think I turned out pretty dang close to OK, contrary to unpopular belief. (Yes, you read that right.) I'll give one example, because if I give any more, I fear she would give an entirely new meaning to the cliche "I brought you into this world, I can take you right out of it."

Of course, this story has only been re-told to me, as I was far too young to remember...but I have been told that I grew into and quickly grew out of the pulling hair stage.  Why?  Well because the first time I pulled my mom's hair was the last, as she pulled mine right back.  From what I've been told, I looked shocked and appalled as she pulled mine right back, but obviously it worked, as the pain made me realize it wasn't a fun thing to do.

Despite teaching me that intentionally harming others in the form of hair-pulling, biting, hitting, or with use of foreign objects, she taught me courtesy.  Not just "Yes ma'am," "Thank you," and "Please," but things like waving at people when they let you over into their lane, holding the door open for those less fortunate, "killing with kindness," etc.  One form that she taught me that apparently 90% of the population was not taught is to PUT YOUR DAMN GROCERY CART AWAY. It literally pains me when I see one left out amongst the many cars in the parking lot.  It pains me more to the point where I see red and have to remind myself that my bed is much more comfortable than a jail cell, when I actually see someone leave their cart out.  Not only do I wish to point out that they could probably use the exercise (as I've noticed it's often people who would only benefit from a few extra steps on the ol' pedometer) but I would like to see their reaction if all the carts they had left out in their life came back to attack their car all at once and they were left with dings and scratches.  It is negligent.  It is lazy.  It is rude.  But most of all...it is annoyingly idiotic.

That's all I got folks...and to quote the lovely radio personality Kelly Raspberry..."how'd ya like that?"