Category: Recess

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Me, Bartleby and Ta.rzan

Hubby & I spent the night on the west side of the state Saturday night. We were out that way specifically to catch the theater debut of one of our friends. (I’d tell you more about the play, but “I’d prefer not to.” But I do have to say, I do think our friend did a wonderful job.)

We’ve been to this town before (the most recent to see the Cowboy Junkies about five years ago), but never got a chance to really check the place out. But since our friend lives out there, we managed to get the “grand tour” of the area which included a trip to a local brewery that produces the only beer my alcohol-allergic / beer-loathing Hubby will drink. Seriously didn’t know that this brew was locally-produced.

Anyway, we ended up staying the night because the play didn’t even start until 11:00 pm. And then afterwards, well … of course we ended up going out and grabbing a drink afterwards. So we booked a room at one of the local hotels just to rest our heads for the night. After all, it’s a decent 3-hour ride back to Detroit and we weren’t about to make that drive after being out until 2 am. (Okay, maybe we would … if we were still college-age!)

The next morning, I turned on the TV in the room (while Hubby started to get ready) and started flipping through the channels. As I flipped, I stumbled onto the Dis.ney channel that happened to be showing the animated film, “Ta.rzan.” I don’t know what possessed me to keep the TV on that channel, but I suddenly found myself sucked into the movie.

There’s something about Dis.ney animated movies that I really enjoy. Especially the ones that were produced from “The Little Mermaid” onward. OK, so there were a few that I could care less about (hmmm … “Emperor’s New Groove”?), but overall I’ve liked their films.

In fact when planning our wedding, Hubby & I created a “Three Wishes” theme, including designing our own invitations (which, back in 1996, was definitely not a common thing to do) based on the movie “Aladdin.” It started with a porcelain figure of Jasmine & Aladdin that Hubby gave me when we were still dating which we thought would make a great cake topper. Then we chose “A Whole New World” from “Aladdin” as our first dance and then gave little ceramic genie lamps as our favors. Yes, I guess you can say we had our own version of our “Dis.ney Fairy Tale” wedding.

But I digress … What struck me about watching “Ta.rzan” was the whole “Boy being raised by a gorilla” thing. Specifically the part where Ta.rzan found out how he came to live with and grow up with a pack of gorillas. Now, I’m assuming that most people have seen this movie or are familiar with the story. However, if you haven’t and you have the urge to read the book / watch the movie … then I suggest you skip the next two paragraphs.

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If you recall that in the movie (because the movie actually does vary a bit from the book by Edward Burroughs), Ta.rzan was brought up by a pack of gorillas and was always regarded by the other gorillas as different. This, however, didn’t matter to his “Mom,” Kala, who brought him up as her own, after losing her own baby gorilla by the same leopard who killed Ta.rzan’s parents. When Ta.rzan stumbles upon Jane and is surprised that there is a person who looks similar to him, he tries to learn from Jane (and her father) as much as he can about his “kind.” Ultimately, Jane is supposed to be leaving back for “merry olde England.” As Ta.rzan had ultimately fallen in love with her, he has to make the decision to either remain behind or go with Jane.

Before Ta.rzan’s decision is made, Kala tells him the truth about his parents and how, after her own son died, she raised him as if he was her own child. After he makes his decision to follow Jane, he turns to Kala and tells her that she will always be his mom.
*

Uh, yeah … and that’s where the tears started flowing. (Thank God Hubby was in the shower at that point!) I kept thinking that if I was Kala, I would would be absolutely heartbroken. Proud of him, but utterly heartbroken for myself.

First of all, it’s the whole “mother who loses her own biological child” thing. How can that not relate to how I’m feeling? Okay, so I never was able to get pregnant on my own and have never physically lost a pregnancy. Or worse, a baby. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have the right to grieve about not being able to have my own biological baby. And how about those that have experienced failed IVF’s alongside with me? Or those that have experienced ectopic pregnancies or miscarriages? Those are all losses.

And then there’s the whole “being raised by someone that didn’t give birth to you” issue. Uh … that would totally relate to adoption. I know that my journey through infertility has taken me down the adoption path. And I know that every day I am one step closer to becoming just as strong as Kala wanting to raise a child that isn’t biologically part of me.

I know that adoption is my fate and once I have my child, I will be so totally, utterly and unconditionally in love with him/her. BUT … I can’t help but think that somehow, somewhere down the adoption path I will truly start to freak out about the possibility that this child might not love me or feel that the love he/she has for me is not as strong as it would be if I were his/her biological mother.

Huhm … I just realized that perhaps my child would probably think the same of the love that I would have for him/her. He/She could be thinking … “Does she love me as if I were born from her womb?” Well, the answer to that is yes. As I’ve never been able to experience pregnancy, I guess I wouldn’t know the difference between loving a child that is biologically mine or loving one that was brought into our family through adoption. So my future son or daughter … I want to let you know this right now: I will love you, because … to me, you are my own child.

Damn Dis.ney … why must you always produce movies about orphaned heroes or heroines that overcome adversity. Do you purposely peer into my heart and see which one of those heart-strings (or better yet, my apron strings) to pull?!

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Everyday is Like Sunday …

I have this habit of singing this song whenever I’m up early on a Sunday morning. It’s probably a leftover habit from the mid-80’s. It reminds me of getting up on Sundays and having to go to mass with my parents. Hmm … what does that say about me?

So here I am, sitting in a relatively quiet household. The only sound I can hear is my stomach growling (it’s calling for pancakes or waffles) and my Hubby’s breathing as he sleeps. I figure he deserves to sleep in … he’s had a rough couple of weeks, not only with my Dad’s hospitalization but with some major projects he had going on at work at the same time.

And although I wanted to stay cuddled up next to Hubby and sleep in a bit, I had to make a trip over to my parents’ house to drop off a prescription for my Dad.

Yep … Dad made it home safe and sound. Up next … a visit from a home care nurse to help them go over all his new medications and to go over some important things he needs to do … like watching his diet and continuing to do aggressive deep breathing treatments to prevent any further pneumonia.

I specifically asked for a visiting nurse to come out to see my parents because, even though I could be that person to go over all these things, there are some things that get reinforced better by other professionals than by family members. No matter how many times my brother and I go over it ourselves with them.

Speaking of my brother … he’s back in Chi-town where he’s finishing up his last year of residency. He takes his boards on Monday and Tuesday and I’m wishing him the best of luck. He has totally been a trooper during these past weeks, having to drive back and forth (a total of FOUR times) to show his support for both Mom and Dad.

But really … what I wanted to do was to share pictures of his dog. Meet Wrigley. He’s a five-year ex-racing greyhound that my brother and SIL picked up from a rescue league outside of Chicago.

This dog is SO laid back … you can’t help but love Wrigley and his personality. The whole time I was there, he did not ONCE bark (unlike our “puppy” who sounds off at approximately 30 barks per minute). And once Wrigley decides he likes you, he literally wants to sit with you (or on you) and follow you wherever you go.

Wish I could see Wrigley more often. But alas … his Auntie Em only gets to see him whenever he’s brought into town with his Daddy. And can you just imagine this dog driving in a small Mazda for five hours from Chicago to Detroit? Geesh … where does he fit!

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Not Stirred or Shaken … Just Chilled

This morning I’m taking a little time for myself. I woke up just a tad later than I usually do for work. And I’m doing it because it’s officially my scheduled day off from work. Not one of those days I had to call my boss in the morning and let her know that I wasn’t coming in because of my Dad or because I was waiting for a service man to repair our furnace.

Nope. Today was a day that I officially scheduled off because of a previously arranged doctor’s appointment. And for once, that appointment had nothing to do with the “nether regions” of my body.

So today, before I make an appearance at the hospital, I’ve decided to stop by my local cafe and chill. Catch up on some blogs. Do a little knitting. Do more research on finding that new OB-Gyn I need. And hey … maybe read the paper and catch up on some local (damn Kwame … ) and national (and now the ex-NY governor?!) news.

Because to tell you the truth … I’m feeling just a little anxious. And exhausted. And I want to take a moment to sip my Leprechaun Latte and enjoy the sounds and smells of my favorite cafe.

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ART in the Movies

Hubby & I went to the movies a couple weeks ago and while Hubby was at the concession stand (getting me a a frozen Coke … mmm!), I sat in the theater watching the trailers. That’s when I saw the trailer for this movie.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about this movie just yet. Don’t get me wrong … I absolutely LOVE Tina Fey, but here’s another movie about infertility that may just hit a little too close to home. Especially because it’s a comedy. And although there are some pretty darn funny things to laugh about while traveling through this IF journey, there is still quite a bit of heartache and sadness. And watching a movie that could potentially poke fun at the whole situation might not be a good thing.

But … I also was hesitant to see Juno as well and ended up loving it. So, I guess I might just have to check out this movie once it hits the theater.

I’m curious though … what’s your opinion? Would you go see it? Are you offended by the content of this film? Or do you find it hilarious? And furthermore … do you think this portrays Assisted Reproductive Technologies (ART) in a good or a bad way?

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Tagged

So I was officially “Tagged” by kcmarie waaaay back at the end of December. I figured I probably should finally get around to doing it. Apparently there has been some “rules” that have been posted since I initially got tagged, so I figured I would add it to my post as well.

The Rules:

  1. Link to the person that tagged you.
  2. Post the rules on your blog.
  3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
  4. Tag at least three people at the end of your post and link to their blogs.
  5. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
  6. Let the fun begin!

Ummmm … Let’s see. Six non-important quirks about me.

  1. I brush my teeth with my left hand. Which would not be any big deal except that I’m right-handed in everything else. I’ve tried switching hands many times, but for some reason I always revert subconsciously to my left hand.
  2. I always have to sleep with one foot, preferably the right (told you I was a righty), outside of the blanket. Even if I’m lying on the side, I always have to have a foot out. It could be freezing cold in our bedroom to the point that my head is even under the covers, but I absolutely have to keep one foot on the outside. I’m not quite sure the reason why, but it’s just something I have always done. Sometimes I think that my mind is telling me that I must always be ready to move or get up at the spur of the moment.
  3. Back in high school, I was nicknamed the “Human Jukebox” because I would always know the words to any song. Friends would spit out two words to a song and I would literally know what song they were talking about. Unfortunately, that “talent” faded once I got into college because suddenly my mind had to be filled with the other “useful” knowledge it was supposed to contain in order for me to graduate with my Nursing degree. Apparently though, my “talent” has started to resurface because I’m suddenly being approached by co-workers who say I should be on that new TV show where I’m supposed to complete the lyrics. Yikes! I’d have too much stage fright!
  4. Speaking of high school, I was voted “Class New-Waver.” I mean, come ON! How 80’s could that get?! Personally, I would have thought that I would have been “Class Goth” if there was ever that category back then. But then again, we’re talking Catholic school here. I guess it was because even back then, I only wore black (Thank God no uniforms in high school at that time!) and supposedly listened to what was considered “alternative music” back then. Seriously though, I think God got back at me for wearing all that black in high school, because once I got into the Nursing program in college all I was allowed to wear was white. Grrr …
  5. I took piano lessons for close to ten years when I was young. I loved playing the piano, but I hated the lessons. Probably because I never was able to really “read” the notes as quickly as you would think someone taking lessons for that long would. Instead, I had a tendency to read the notes slowly, learn the “melody,” and then memorize it so I knew when something “sounded” wrong when I played it. It used to drive my piano teacher INSANE. What I wish I would have known then was that there was a specific method of teaching piano, called the Suzuki Method, that relied mostly on listening to a song over and over again in order to learn the tune. Then I might have found another instructor and might have continued taking lessons.
  6. I’m not a particularly active or “fit” person, but I love watching any type of sports. I think it comes from living in a city that has all the major pro-sports teams (hockey, baseball, basketball, football) and great universities with good sports programs. Hubby & I are BIG University of Michigan Football Fans and are actually pretty lucky to have season tickets every year. The funny thing is that Hubby actually is a U of M alumni, but do you think that we EVER went to any of the football games when he actually attended the university? Nope.  In fact, I never had any inkling that Hubby was a sports nut until after we were married. Which is when I really started getting into sports. Never thought I’d see the day when I actually knew what the referee’s hand signals actually meant …

So that’s it about me. Six quirky things you never wanted to know.

I guess this is where I’m supposed to tag other people. Oh geez, I don’t have THAT big a circle of friends, but I’ll tag hope548, courtney rose, and sheila. Good luck, gals!!