You folks who have children will know what I’m talking about: I successfully transfered Freebird from the carseat, to his crib, and he went back to sleep. This is UNHEARD of with him. He never transfers well.

But I took off his shoes, covered his head with a flannel blanket, brought him upstairs, put him down in his crib, took off the winter jacket - all the while thinking “this is so not going to fly” - and behold, he curled up and went back to sleep.

Hoooooraaay! 

I am in line at Boston Market. The person in front of me has ordered a solid gold chicken.

That can be the only reason for the delay of this much time.

Mmmm. I want regular chicken please. Soon?

The Bad:

I got home late with horrendous traffic as usual (WTF who ARE these people? Aren’t most people on vacation?) and found that the post man had totally blown off my pickup request for my packages to go out for the holidays, and they were still sitting on the porch. On a whim I picked up the phone, found we had a message (WTF is with phones with no blinking lights that let you know you have a voicemail?) and listened. The IUD people STILL hadn’t received the prescription because the fax number I had was not working (GAH) and my appointment for the procedure is scheduled for 31 December - that would be insurance year 2007, where, thanks to a Cesarean section, I made my deductible and then some holy shit, as opposed to insurance year 2008. So while I fed the zoo, changed out of my work clothing (can’t feed the baby wearing corporate nicewear, because he spits up like damn) I called the doctor, the IUD company, the doctor again, the IUD folks again, and THEN ran out the door.

Stopped at the UPS store and begged them to please take my packages even though they were already postage paid (I printed out the postage online, though the USPS totally couldn’t bother to honor the pickup I also scheduled) and NOT being shipped through them. The nice man behind the counter was kind enough to do me a favor, so off my packages went. I hope they don’t sit under the counter, forgotten and sad.

Then arrived at daycare only to find… Freebird’s ulna was out of socket again and he wasn’t using his arm. He had been using it off and on all afternoon but music class at the end of the day made it obvious. Freebird can tell you the sound of one cymbal clapping, should you be studying up on your Zen music theory. 

So, gently I put on the jacket, convinced that they were going to call DSS on me as an abusive parent, and took his good arm and went to go pickup Baba. We got home, Hubby arrived, I reset Freebird’s arm - which he HATES because it does hurt, though I did get it back in joint on the first try - and we had a good dinner.

The Good

We’d been trying to give the boys their baths on alternating nights, but that means someone is always in the tub and that’s just exhausting for me. So I figured, Freebird could have his bath, then we’d put Baba in the tub with him, and let him help us wash Baba’s feet and hands. Freebird was SO excited to have his baby brother in the tub. “Lookit the teeny little toes!” he said. “Look! Little fingers!” And he took his washcloth and gently helped us bathe Baba, who LOVED being in the tub with his big brother.

The Merry

While I don’t personally celebrate Christmas, I used to, and I have to say, I love wishing people a Merry Christmas. Most holidays are “happy” something, but “merry” just sounds so especially joyous. More than happy - downright jovial! And “merry” isn’t often used with any of the Jewish holidays. I can’t say that most Jewish holidays and festivals inspire much merriment. Most holidays revolve around a theme of “They tried to kill us. We won. Let’s eat. “ Or, in the case of Yom Kippur, “Time to atone. No eating.”

But since I can easily get behind any wish for merriment and joy, I wish all of you a very Merry holiday, and an equally merry New Year. 

I am streaming music and the Chopin theme on which the theme to “Wings” is based is playing. Do I think “Chopin?”

Nope. I think Tim Daly and that girl who allegedly grew up on Nantucket but because she was played by Crystal Bernard she sounded like she was from Texas.

• It is news around the world - a top story even - that Jamie Lynn Spears is pregnant.
• Comments following that story like cars on a really long ass train are words like “white trash,” “trailer,” “stupid,” “idiot,” “low class,” and “what the fuck?”
• Because economic status, place of birth, relative intellect, present domicile and access to fame, attention, and money definitely contribute to increased rates of teen pregnancy.
• Really, is it a surprise that, given the state of this country’s attitude toward women’s health, birth control, condom availability for teenagers, and sexual education among young people, that a 16 year old got pregnant?
• Obviously, money and some external standard of behavior and style are the real defense against unwanted, unplanned pregnancy.
• Reforming our attitude towards sex, birth control, and lobbying to make birth control options and sexual education available to young people in the US, that’s not the answer at all. No, no, no. Can’t have young people having access to affordable birth control. Or information about sexual reproduction.
• Personally speaking, I’m waiting for an IUD to ship. I’m sure everyone who knows me is pleased to know that. Why an IUD? Because I cannot tolerate birth control pills without becoming a screaming bitchtastic hosebeast. They make me breathtakingly ill, as well, with migraines that eliminate at least 24-36 hours of my ability to function.
• My insurance company is very likely going to fight me on the IUD costs, both for the unit itself ($400) and for the procedure to place it ($150).
• My insurance company does cover birth control pills, and the entire costs of hospital care for and following my cesarean section, which totaled well over $6,000.00 for both Baba and myself. 
• But an IUD, which will stop me from incurring another $6k in medical costs for a birth and will remain effective for up to 12 years? Not likely. 
• They also cover Viagra, Cialis, Levitra, and other male enhancement drugs, come to think of it.
• So what’s my point? My point is that we’re all going to roll our eyes, point and sneer, laugh and make jokes about some 16 year old sister of a fucked up famous person because she got pregnant unintentionally. 
• Suppose I’m a sixteen year old. Suppose I can’t tolerate birth control pills, or I have no way of getting them easily. Suppose I’m too scared to be seen buying condoms. Can I come up with $650 to get an IUD? Oh, please. So if I have sex, I cross my fingers and hope I’m lucky while the rest of the country tells me I should be crossing my legs instead. 
• Yeah, that makes sense. 
• I’m going back to my news fast, because I can think of ten or eleven better things to do with my time than make fun of a 16 year old who is in a really tough position, AND has to deal with being a top story around the world on top of her unplanned pregnancy. 
• Imagine the stink if she had elected to have an abortion and THAT story got out. Poor kid.
• Number one on that list of better things to do: a donation to PlannedParenthood.

My Give-a-Shit is so broken, I’m shocked. Usually I put everyone before myself, ignore what I need or want and make sure everyone else is ok. Now? I could not possible give less of a shit about people if they aren’t the least bit interested in asking how I am. I have some really great friends who always ask how I’m doing, what’s up, yadda yadda, even if I’m head down and going 90 miles an hour through my daily life. I appreciate that more than I can say.

But somehow I’m more aware lately of the people in my life for whom everything, and I mean everything, is really All About Them. And man, my give-a-shit is so not even listening to their noise. I’m not saying altars need to be built to my awesomeness, but, well it’s like this. There are orbit people and there are black hole people. Orbit people do their thing, and maybe they pass by you while you’re on your orbit, and there’s a fair exchange of information. Orbit people don’t expect you to get off your orbit and follow theirs, and you don’t necessarily expect them to jump off their path and join you.

Black hole people, obviously, suck everything in around them with a force that’s impossible to fight at times, and everything is all about them like damn.

I’m less and less tolerant of the black hole people - and I’m also totally worried that I myself am becoming one, now that my give-a-shit is broken.

*DISCLAIMER* I am not a passive aggressive person, and I do not use my blog to drop hints. I’d hate to think I made anyone who knows me personally and who also reads this site feel self-conscious because I am aware of who reads this page and I would never be so underhanded and wussy as to tell the internet instead of you personally. The folks I’m speaking of above are people who don’t read this page, so please don’t think I mean you. You, I like. So don’t worry. 

Nothing says “The Writers Strike Continues!” like a show called “Clash of the Choirs.”

Holy shit.

Go writers, go.