mooglosaurus

1. I'm in full Doctor Who outfit, shoes, pants, shirt.
2. I finally got some Bollywood on my iPhone during commute
3. I found my way back to LJ
4. Yesterday I went out with a new friend. We went to see the New Christmas decoration at the prestigeous shops and were, once again, amazed at the sparkles in the children's eyes
5. Yesterday I had katsucurry. Nom!!
6. I think of my wonderfully naked husband getting over his mancold somewhere deep under the sheets
7. I'm waiting for someone calling me ASAP so I can Finally brag with my Dr. Who ringtone ^^
8. I stopped missing Facebook. I restored normal communication with my friends. Old-fashioned phoning, mailing and having lunch.
9. It's been since 2005 I haven't had such a bunch of pleasant colleagues. I even took up drinking coffee to enjoy more of them
10 I see the top of the Eiffel Tower pointing to the skies every morning upon arrival at my job. One of my long time affirmations came true

Today indeed is a good day!

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The thing that discourages me the most, thinking of the babe coming back, is the eternal coming back of things. The monotony of things. Having to focus on what groceries to shop every single week. Or staying simply at home for an afternoon without any plan or project.

Was I not the one who used to go out all the time, looking for yet another adventure? Now I should be willingly slipping in a cantered peace and quiet.
Yeah, right...

I am now dependable of my man. Waiting for him to find a job so we can buy a house, waiting for him to plan some kind of honeymoon, waiting for all of this before the second baby, before a travel around the world or a trip to the moon...

Jeesh... Just waiting... It makes me restless, the prospect of waiting and doing nuffink!

I can do that for a short lapse of time but not for more than an hour, honestly!
With my first boyfriend, that's what I did; nothing. Nothing at all. And I'm still seeing those nine years as a very very long coma. I wasn't alive but just unaware of the existence of life.

And now? Now I'm scared of the boredom looming on a lazy Sunday. Since the babe wants to play with me, show me things, sing with me, try her new shoes,... I just can't do things that put my mind to a rest but I - once again - sucks my brain empty with boredom. And, sure, my man can take care of the babe, but the next week is another looming Sunday, just coming back. Same as the shopping, the commute, the whatevers...

I don't know. Maybe my brain is finally saturating with sending vibes to others and maybe I'm finally catching up with the mean and crazy people like the ex-boyfriends, the ex-roommate and the current effed up office mate. Instead of my hope coming true of some of my good vines rubbing off on them, their bad vibes are rubbing off on me ...

Shit man, I'm talking bullshit. I'm tired, worried of repetitive boredom and just plain empty.

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We went out with the moogman. Well, out... We went for pasta in the cheap tiny pasta place we went on our first date, walked around to find one or two presents for upcoming parties and I was in bed by nine. Hmpf...

But since it's dark so early and because we both are so shattered, it felt like a massively real and late date :)
And it felt goo-hood ^^

So I slept like an angel and dreamt good. Not the usual nightmares.
And it felt so good. Like when we were dating. Centered and lovingly, warm and comfortable.

Sigh...

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Yesterday evening was our first night without the babe since long. And you want to know? I slipped back in my old life without any protest. It felt so "me" to be without the babe.
And I don't even feel guilty about it to let out a sigh of peace to be at rest.

This morning I'll talk to my boss about my workload. I took on a lot since my crazy alcoholic pill-addicted colleague (seriously, do I attract the nutters?) decided to eff up our division. I secretly hope I'll get some monetary compensation in January but also, for now, this hipproblem has to be resolved.

So here we are again; stuck by my body because I want to take on the world and make sure all the needs of my loved ones are met before they themselves are aware of a need. We've had (yet another) long chat with the moogman about him, me and us. About how we both need to balance ourselves out. I need to let go of his needs and worries, of preventing him to get hurt. And he needs to put his shoulders under our world.

Balance...

Huh...

There's something I'd never heard of in a relationship before ^^"
(T, I can hear you smiling from here ^^)

I mean... BALANCE in a couple... What a crazy concept! This is something you hear about in Cosmo, you nod when someone on telly talks about but ME? In MY couple? Balance and equity? Are you CRAZY?!
Well, it turns out all I needed was a nine year coma, an abusive boyfriend, a move to metropole, one year of depravation, Pam's evil scheme, an unplanned pregnancy, a crazy wedding and two years of unemployment...

That's all I needed to push myself towards the comprehension of a balanced couple where I don't play Atlas carrying the world.
Now
I got the definition of a balanced couple, now comes
The practice, tough part... But I'm sire I can do it. It's the only way anyway.

=^_______^=

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We've sent the little one to the in-laws for a week. I just can't take it for now. Between the work where everyone is on sick leave, the long commute and the fabulous terrible two... Oh and also thanks to my usual nasty habit of wanting to handle everything like a big girl, not giving in to my limits. The result is the same usual; way beyond my own limits.

So the moogman is off with the babe in order to give me a baby-free week. This backpain just has to go away before it becomes something worse. Next Saturday it's the babe's birthday and I want us to have fun! My sister will be here for the weekend and there's a Bollywood show I have tickets to.

So now:
Couching, reading, doctor who, watching bollywood: YES
Cooking, cleaning, overtime, dancing bollywood: NO

Let's see if I can actually pull this off ^^"

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My hips are stuck.

It all started out with some back pains but, according to my fabulous Doctor Fox, it's me hips...

So, for the third time in my life, my body puts me to a full halt. I wanted the moogman to take over from me? Done! I wanted the babe to learn independance? She's learning it the hard way.
"Nope, mommy really can't lift you up any longer. " ( sweet thing is she keeps giving me magic kisses on my back, so sweet).

So my body gives up on me again. No other choice but to put my feet up and watch the rest of doctor Who for now ^^"

The question is... Am I able to let go?

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I'm afraid I'm going to write about this book I'm reading in the next couple of posts. It's just that I want to write down my thoughts about what I'm reading.

So Cinderella is not at all about female virtue or marital bliss.
Thing is that Disney has the filthy habit of changing the viewpoint of the reader in whatever way he wants. One of the most famous versions of Cinderella was the one Perrault wrote, not with the protagonist as the storyteller but with a narrator as a storyteller. The original subject was reconstructed families.

The question I always asked, when hearing about Cinderella was "how come Cinderella's dad had to remarry and how come he did it with such a bitch?". The answer, in short, would be that he had to remarry after cinderella's mom died when giving birth or after an unfortunate, uncurable illness like TBC, apendicitis, the plague or whatever and that he remarried such a bitch because of the probable profitability of a wealthy union with the bitch's family. All quite common in older days I'd say.
Or maybe, looking at the earliest origins of the story, sometime before the 10th century, it was a story of Chinese concubines.

So if you really look at it, the story's topic is much more contemporary than that of the good housewife we've grown up with! It's the story of dad remarrying and the daughter of the ex not getting along with the second wife...
Hmmm...

The moogman also pointed out the fact that Cinderella was a bit of a bitch herself. Instead of standing up for her rights, eloping or whatever single girls could do in these days, she preferred to sneak behind het new mom's back and plot with her mother's sister in order to doublecross the rest of the household.
I'm not sure I totally agree with him but I can see his point.

Anyway, in all of the older stories, the stepmom and all stepsisters die at the end. Which brings the lesson of this story to a wonderful "you'd better treat orphans well or else you die".

Heheh.

Bon, the only thing that cannot be tempered with is the fact that this fairytale, like a lot of other ones, portray women as mean, jealous, greedy and sneaky. And since the story is told by a woman (be it Cinderella herself or mother Goose), it only proves that point. If a woman says these things about women in general, it mist be true!

The rapist in little red riding hood is not a man but a wolf, right? Men cannot be mean. Only the "animal" part of men is wrong. Women, on the other hand, are either perfect or total (b)(w)itches.

Or am I too much of a feminist?

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Mwahaha!

I'm not much of a gossip magazine reader. I used to love to read who was the latest bitch in Hollywood but feminism put an end to that, too. However, I still take a deep and profound pleasure in Disney-bashing.

Gosh I just love it!

From the articles in www.cracked.com about the most racist Disney cartoon characters and the horrible lessons hidden in some of the most loved Disney movies, to this book I'm reading about fairy tales and their tellers. One sentence in that book got me smiling for an entire evening: "..., all Disney's powers of invention failed to save the princes from featureless banality and his heroines from saccharin sentimentality."

I don't have to explain my disgust for Walt Disney's blatant masonic and WASPy patriarchical manipulation of a very biased choice of so-called classics, that's not what this post is about. This post is about how surprised I am to see that Disney movies are not as untouchable as I assumed they were and this makes me truly happy!

Whenever I used to vent my concerns about Disney movies, I got either blank and empty looks, either discussions about Freudian interpretations of our collective subconscience etc etc (I don't question the classics, I question incorrect interpretation and false representation of their original context).

So I feel reassured to see that I'm not alone in my worries of Disney's influence on a child's mind. Disney was, to me, an institution worshipped by all and everyone on the account of promoting love, courage and perseverance. Questioning it is just beyond any possible imagination. If you intend to do so (and thus prove that you are a communist revolutionary), you have to do some serious digging before finding something of any substance.

But now that I've found the source, I'm not letting go.

Disney-bashing!! Here I come!!

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Yesterday I came home and the dishes were dome, the bed was made, the clothes hung drying, the floor was sparkling, the toilet smelled nice and the baby was home smiling.
I only had to turn on the microwave oven and put my feet under the table ^^

Domestical blis =^_______^=

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Major argument with the Moogman this weekend. What is this nonsense about being an understanding, loving wife? I quit here and now. I encourage, I support, I listen patiently,... But this weekend I shouted, I rubbed a nose in one's own filth, I pushed and I shoved.

Do I, as a wife, have the role of kicking my man's butt too? I start to think so. After two years of being a kind and understanding wife towards my sadly unemployed man, I'm just a bit too tired of tiptoeing around the truth. And don't even start guilt-tripping me or victimizing yourself. Yes you are without a job. Yes you are being a lazy bum. Yes you are having a depression. And yes you are being useless to me when you are posting messages on yet another Star Wars lightsaber forum or playing farmville on facebook.

Get up and DO stuff!! Clean, tidy up, write letters, call people!! Just stop doing nothing or not much!! No more reassuring "but that's ok dear, really..."

Jeesh I'm so tired of working and then coming home to someone who's too sad to move somewhere good. I've been compasionate for quite a while and careful about my words. Now it's time for butt-shoving.

Everyone has his part to play in this family life. Yours is to be happy and carry your burden of the work.

There!

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Yesterday I explained our food regime to my doctor and gosh! I didn't realize we paid such attention to what we eat and how these natural choices for us are each take much more organisation than those of the common French shopper.

We follow the blood type diet.
We only buy seasonal fruit and vegetable.
We only buy ingredients produced closeby.
We only buy organic cleaning products and beauty products.
We only buy products that are free of animal testing.

Five little rules that make us go shop to three totally different places every week. But it's worth it.

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So yesterday, it was that time of year again. The babes birthday is coming up, Saint Nicholas, Christmas,... So I had to go to the... Wait for it... TOY SHOP!!! (screaming)

I found an LJ post from last year saying how I had hated it but I thought that, being older and stronger and all, all would be well thus year.

Hah!

Don't try to enter a toy shop when you are a feminist in favour of LBGT marriage, wanting to break the transgender taboo and promoting diversity. Oh, and don't go into a toy store when you are a caring mother!!

Toy shops are the place where segregation and mysoginy go hand in hand. Every toy is labeled following the stereotyped parent that has been targeted. There is no "cars" shelf, for instance, there is the "boys" shelf. How limiting! There are only blonde female baby dolls. There is a whole seperate world of elitist bitch eco-friendly toys.

There's only noise and eye-damageing colours...

Jeesh!!

And it's even worse when you are a mother. I wanted to buy a plane for the babe. Boy was I under the wrong impression that that was going for the easy choice! Do I take the tall plane with the little people in it? Do I take the one made for 18 months old or the one for 2 years old? Do I take the little one so I can buy her another gift or do I take the big one with the many functions? Does she want to fill it with things or does she want to fly and ride with it?

Effing hell!!!

I was under constant doubt, being convinced that whatever choice I made, I would traumatize my babe with the exact wrong plane! Half an hour I stood pining over bloody planes!!

I almost started crying...

Somehow I calmed down and grabbed the first damn plane I had put my thoughts on in the beginning and went to the teller. I paid and finally noticed I had bought my very first perfect plane wit a female captain and a black crew =^_______^=

And now I know I will never go to another toy shop in my life again because I found this wonderful new thing called "on line shopping"

Bliss!

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Yay, I've got the LJ app on my iPhone. I can now blog whenever I want!!

So I sent in my test for my lactation consultant. I'm waiting for the results but I think I did quite ok. I'm about to start another one, organised by "Message", a support group for young expat mothers. It should last a year and then I will be bound to the organisation for another two years, fulfilling my duties as a boobie teacher.

I'm kinda proud ^^".

I hope I'll be able to help out and support young women and mothers throughout their pre and postnatal period. There is so much wrong information, there's such a lack for support and such a contempt for young mothers, we have to help out everywhere we can. Empower young mothers(to-be) with encouragement and information so they can make informed choices instead of being pushed and shoved around.

Just yesterday I heard about yet another "doctor" telling a mother that breastmilk is not nutritive once the babe is six months old.

So there we go.

I also hope to find some personal fulfilment in this volunteering. I do not have the job I always dreamt of but it is a good job, out of the profit-commercial sector. It is helping the bigger cause of improving education everywhere. Or so I'd like to hope ^^
I'm "just" an assistant at work. I have good colleagues and perform well. I receive abundant praise for my work. I genuinely like to go to work on Mondays.

But it is not a job I want to be defined by solely. I want my daughter to be proud of me for what I bring to other people. I secretly hope I could even inspire her...

Maybe I really should think of becoming a midwife?!

...

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