Guess who walked into a Babies R' Us today and actually enjoyed her shopping experience? Well, perhaps enjoy is an exaggeration, but at least I did not hate it as much as I expected. I am sooo proud of myself... I bought a layette, a tiny dress and a couple of bibs, one of which is embroidered with two flowery owls and it says: "I love my Aunt".
All these are gifts for my sister in law, whose baby was born today. I am green with envy and crying with relief at the same time. Please note that I did not buy a single gift until the baby was born. This was a scary pregnancy with several ER visits and many months under the equivalent of house arrest, culminating with a C-section. I know a healthy baby is the best gift ever, and all my sister in law was hoping for. Still, knowing how horribly wrong this could have ended, because I've been there myself, I feel that the mother really deserves something special. Any ideas?
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Not loving myself lately...
People who are never depressed think depression is something you can easily snap out of. As if being depressed were something you were doing to yourself.
Well, I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. I'm exercising, I'm eating well, I keep up with my hobbies... The only part that I'm finding very difficult is having a social life.
I tried to join a knitting group a few months ago, but decided it was not for me. A lot of knitting women are stay at home moms who knit too many baby items. They also talk a lot about their kids.
Did I mention before that I joined a book club? The books we read are good, but half the women in that club never read them, and those that do complain a lot about how horrible, ugly, difficult, boring, disgusting etc. the books are. Then they talk about their kids.
There's one other social activity I actually enjoy much more, since it involves practicing a foreign language in a small group, mostly retired seniors. I showed up today, pretending everything is normal, and someone said: "Oh my God, are you OK? What happened to your face?" I've been trying to ignore the mirror lately, but I guess my eczema is getting really out of control. Then again, it gave me the opportunity to make it clear that it's OK to sit next to me because it is not contagious.
I came home and cried a lot, which only made my eczema worse. But it also made me realize that mothers obsessed with their children don't give a shit about somebody else's face and hands being covered by red, scaly patches. Maybe for now I should stick with women who'd rather talk about their kids, and not about how ugly and disgusting my face looks.
Well, I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. I'm exercising, I'm eating well, I keep up with my hobbies... The only part that I'm finding very difficult is having a social life.
I tried to join a knitting group a few months ago, but decided it was not for me. A lot of knitting women are stay at home moms who knit too many baby items. They also talk a lot about their kids.
Did I mention before that I joined a book club? The books we read are good, but half the women in that club never read them, and those that do complain a lot about how horrible, ugly, difficult, boring, disgusting etc. the books are. Then they talk about their kids.
There's one other social activity I actually enjoy much more, since it involves practicing a foreign language in a small group, mostly retired seniors. I showed up today, pretending everything is normal, and someone said: "Oh my God, are you OK? What happened to your face?" I've been trying to ignore the mirror lately, but I guess my eczema is getting really out of control. Then again, it gave me the opportunity to make it clear that it's OK to sit next to me because it is not contagious.
I came home and cried a lot, which only made my eczema worse. But it also made me realize that mothers obsessed with their children don't give a shit about somebody else's face and hands being covered by red, scaly patches. Maybe for now I should stick with women who'd rather talk about their kids, and not about how ugly and disgusting my face looks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)