Waxing and Whining

I'm going to Hawaii! In only seventy-two short hours I'll in Maui! Yay me!

In preparation for my trip, I decided I am mature enough to get a bikini wax. Except I'm cheap, okay thrifty, so I figured I can do it myself. I got a little kit at the drugstore, with pre-waxed strips you simply lay on and pull off. Sounded simple enough. The kit I purchased also came with a camphor "comfort cooling" spray to apply before you wax. My thought, "Cool! numbing spray! I won't feel a thing!". Ha!

My mother has been doing the self wax for years and that's probably part of the reason I figured I could do it myself. I know she's had some bad experiences (I seem to remember some sort of underarm debacle), but mostly she's fine. I started with my legs. Let me just say, for those of you who haven't placed sticky goo onto their hair with the intention of ripping it out by the root, it hurts!!!!! I was giggling uncontrollably because that's what I do when I'm 1.) nervous, 2.) scared, 3.) in pain. The hair sticking to the wax strip was cool, so I was distracted from the pain for a moment. Until I realized the strip didn't even come close to pulling out all the hair in the area. I worked around my leg and finally realized I should move up in case I didn't have enough wax to clean up the bikini line. Needless to say, my legs are smooth. In patches. I won't go into the gory details of the bikini area, but I will say I consider the bikini wax a success. The leg leaves something to be desired.

Moving on...

Husband woke up with a scratch on his face Saturday morning. He thinks I did it. I'm not saying I did, and I'm not saying I didn't. I would like to state for the record, I've woken in the middle of the night several times with him delicately removing my velvet stuffed frog from my arms. That's like taking candy from a kid. If I did scratch him, he certainly deserved it.

This morning I woke up feeling like someone tried to twist my head off my body. I wonder if he's trying to get even.

Why do I have to Think???

I read an essay that got me thinking about the debate Husband and I are having about genetic screening of the unborn. I think Husband agrees (although I haven't brought up the topic for a few weeks) that eugenics is a questionable practice at best. I had not made the connection in my head that genetic screening with the option of aborting is eugenics. My concerns with the screening have been personal, the social and moral aspects are secondary. We as a society have become so enamored of science and scientific "progress" that we have crossed over into a realm of moral ambiguity without even a sideways glance.

I am presently concerned about what this means for me as a woman praying to be pregnant at this very moment. How will this play out with Husband and our child if God forbid we discover the child is not "perfect"*? What will it mean for me as an individual? Is it right to exert my rights as an individual and mother to have a child when the father is against it? What will that mean for the child? What would that do to my marriage?

And then I come right back to the decision I made at twenty-one. I feared Husband (who was a casual boy "friend" at the time) would resent having a child. I feared the child would know it was resented and have to live with that pain. I wish I could say that I thought at the time I was making the correct decision. At least I would find some comfort in that.

Perhaps I struggle more with the genetic testing because of what I have already experienced. I walked my personal moral tightrope and fell. On the wrong side. I don't want to fall again.

Love Your Green Mother

Our impact on the world has been weighing heavily on my mind lately. Please do what you can to show our planet the love she deserves. What better way to support Earth Day on April 22!

Carbonfund.org is a non-profit supporting renewable energy sources and reducing overall greenhouse gas emissions. I signed up as a monthly contributor to help offset the emissions Husband and I produce.

Our gas and electric company offers "green" energy, which gives us some of our energy from renewable sources (such as wind). The added cost is under $5/mo which I feel is well worth helping heal our Earth. I urge you to look at your own company to find out if you can get renewable energy as well. Most energy companies are looking at ways to offer green energy, so even if it's not available now, it very well be in the future. Keep an eye on your energy bill, they will notify you when renewable energy is available.

Other easy things to do:

Unplug appliances/chargers/computers/other equipment when not in use (put everything on surge protectors you can switch off)

Use compact fluorescent bulbs- those twisty looking light bulbs save 2/3’s of your lighting bill and will save about $40 over their lifetime. Try 1 or 2 in places where you leave lights on a lot (like the front porch for instance). I'm replacing the regular bulbs as they burn out.

Support local farms

Renew/Reuse and Recycle!

Other places to find information about Green Living:

Alliance to Save Energy

Green-e

Energy Star

Handshakes

Husband and his business partner are looking for a real estate agent to sell "our" condo. They have it narrowed down to two teams, but seem to be torn between them. Husband suggested the wives should meet with them. I don't really think that's necessary as I fully trust Husband's and Business Partner's judgement. One thing did come up that is important to me: handshakes.

I have a couple of gripes: hard and soft shakers. My experience is that many women fall into the "Hard Shaker" category. I haven't decided if this is a woman-woman issue, or also a woman-man issue. When a woman shakes my hand forcefully, with a lot of "squeeze", I feel like they are trying to dominate me. I get the impression they are trying to assert their authority and power. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for powerful women, but the too hard shake makes me think you are trying too hard (duh). Maybe you are working hard to give the impression you have more control than you actually do.

On the flip side, men who gently take my hand (or only my fingers) annoy me. They are telling me that I am too delicate to be treated as their equal. I am not up to the full- handed, strong shake. As if I can't handle it. They too are conveying power and letting me know I don't have as much of it as they do. I do not fault men when they squeeze too hard, because at least they are treating me as they would a man. Like their equal.

I'd just like to state for the record that I am not the sort of girl to be concerned about my power. I know I have it. I don't question it. I'm not even worried about people taking it away. People are a curiosity and I ponder what makes them do the things they do.

Time Traveling

Yesterday was a beautiful if windy day in Southern California. Husband and I had house guests, and we live right next door to our close friends so we had a fair sized group most of the weekend. The fellas decided it was a nice enough day to pull out the croquet set. I know, wild and crazy times are afoot!

They started to set up the game and realized they didn't have the instructions in the box, and no one could remember how to play. I'm happily reading the Sunday paper (ads and comics with a glance at the real news) listening to them trying to come up with the rules. Debating back and forth, agreeing to something and just as quickly deciding that the rule doesn't seem quite right. I imagined that is exactly how they sounded when they were children together.

A little while later, I must have been engrossed in my comics, because I glanced behind me and I swear I saw my husband and his friend as they will look when they are 70 years old, peering into the laptop computer someone brought outside to look up those silly croquet rules. Bent over, squinting at the screen, still debating, joking with each other, seemingly very content.

I smiled to myself, pleased with them and the image of us still being together a half lifetime from now.

Tadpole

Late February 2006.

I'm at the pet store checking out the fish. I was probably running low since my catfish likes to consume his tank mates. Not immediately. He usually* likes to get to know them first. Anyhoo, I see the aquatic frogs swimming up, and then swimming down. Up, and then down. Up, down. Up, down. Mesmerizing. Somehow my attention was broken and I discovered these oh so cute tadpoles. Hey! I should get a tadpole for my tank. Fifteen minutes later I'm arriving home with a pair of mollys, a HUGE tadpole and the warning from the pet store that they can't say what kind of frog it will turn into. Yah, yah, whatever. I'm getting a tadpole for my tank!

I introduce my husband to the tadpole, "Husband, meet tadpole, tadpole, meet your dad." Husband wants to know what type of frog it will be and makes some comment about how freakishly large the tadpole is. He's not really a tadpole person. Sometime later that evening it dawned on me that I had no idea what type of frog the tadpole would turn into. And, wow. It's really big.

..................................................((Hamilton 3-8-06)

So the scientist in me starts doing research. What are the distinguishing characteristics of the cute little bugger? Did I mention he's huge? Like easily three inches long and and inch across huge. And his name is Hamilton. Like Tad Hamilton. 'Cause he's a Tadpole. I have a clever friend. Anyway, I hit the internet for information about the tadpole. Unfortunately, I couldn't narrow it down enough to determine what type of frog Hamilton would be. We'd have to wait until he starts to change. Which, from my research could be anytime between a few weeks and a few years.

Glad I got that straightened out.




*Sometimes he eats them immediately. But only if they are small and there are lots of them. And then he eats as many as he can without bursting.

Long Time

I'm going to blame my oh so busy life for not posting all week. Not that it matters, I think only my sister is coming over here right now anyway. Hi Seester!

Last weekend several family members gathered in Carson City, Nevada for a little skiing and bonding. This is the second year we've made the trek there during the same weekend. I have to say, it's a blast. My family is hilarious! I feel very blessed that not only do I like my siblings, but I like my cousins, aunts, uncles AND mother! Not that my mom doesn't frustrate and confuse me from time to time, but I think that is in her job description. And besides, I think motherhood might make you crazy.

I make that statement not out of malice, simply a lot of direct observation and verbal accounts. I am a scientist after all. The first clue that motherhood makes you crazy is that women want to have babies in the first place. You have to be kinda nuts to be LOOKING FORWARD to pushing a fourteen inch cranium out of your nether regions. Combine that traumatic event with the lack of sleep, poop and vomit, and it's no wonder moms go crazy and stay that way. And then the kids turn into teenagers. Eek. Scary!

Did I mention I REALLY want to have a baby?