Most of the time, I’m a fairly positive person. I laugh easily and love to make others smile. I may be particularly snarkastic, but it’s rarely malicious. Just…you know, snarky.
But just like everything can’t be sunshine all the time, I can’t always be cheerful. It makes total sense. Dark and light, two sides of a coin and what-not. Still, being in a bad mood drives me absolutely crazy.I hate being grumpy. I hate the spiral I end up absorbed in, being grumpy because I’m grumpy, becoming even grumpier as I go. And forbid anyone actually comment on my mood. Call me grumpy and I will turn on you like a pissed off wolverine…and I will become even more grumpy.
I’m going to tell you all my little excuses for my mood, but the truth is I think I just needed a day of grump. Hopefully a good night’s sleep will turn me around and all will be well tomorrow. In the mean time here’s my latest roundup of things that Drove Me Bonkers into my Grumpy Bear Day…
The Rob Ford Nonsense
Oh, you don’t know who Rob Ford is? Awesome. Seriously, don’t bother even looking the guy up. Just skip to the next bold title and be on your merry way, because it’s really not worth your time. For everyone else, you know that Rob Ford is the Mayor of Toronto who recently admitted to using crack, “probably while smashed” after months of denying/ignoring that very issue. He’s also refused to step down as Mayor.
Politically, Ford and I have our disagreements. I don’t think he’s a complete wash, like some Torontonians, but I also don’t think he’s been a Godsend to the city like many of his supporters.
Politics aside, though, now we have to deal with the fact that our Mayor is not only probably an active alcoholic, but a self admitted hard drug user. I have a lot of…feelings…about all of this, but there’s one thing that keeps occupying my grey matter: What are Toronto parents telling their children?
I honestly cannot stop thinking about what the hell I would tell Spawn if this had happened a few years down the road. How do I explain to a child that crack is really, really terrible and has serious consequences (i.e. people go to jail and die because of it), but not our Mayor because he’s 1. extremely wealthy 2. politically powerful and 3. for some reason doesn’t think it’s at all a big deal? How do I admit that a lot of times you’re forgiven for breaking the law if you’re white and/or wealthy and powerful, while also explaining my personal feelings on such issues? Is there any right answer in this situation?
The Midwife Naysayers
No idea how/why this happened but yesterday my decision to use a midwife was reacted to with everything from disbelief to outright aggression. Was there some anti-midwife study released yesterday that I’m unaware of?
I think if the people I had the discussions with had any knowledge at all of midwives, that would be something different. They didn’t. One of my agents asked me repeatedly why/when I would be seeing an actual doctor. Didn’t I want ultrasounds? Blood tests? And Medication? A Hospital? When I informed him that I had access to everything an ob/gyn patient did, minus the surgical option, and that I would be deferred if any actual problems happened, he concluded that it “sounded like a bad idea.”
Thanks for that. As a man and someone who didn’t even realize that Midwives were covered by OHIP, I really see zero value in your opinion.
I’m used to people questioning my choices. I’m used to people trying to talk me out of whatever I’ve decided I want. It rarely changes my mind, and it never gets any easier to manage. It shouldn’t have pissed me off so much but it did.
Irrational Dog Haters
Last night, while taking Pipe out for her last bathroom break, MFH and I had an old woman mutter at us. I couldn’t understand her. She was smoking on her balcony, had a fairly decent accent, and it was raining. I also never assume people are crazy, so I don’t think I would have made sense of her even if none of those things were true.
When I asked her to repeat herself, MFH cut me off and said, “No problem,” to her. He then informed me that she asked us not to let our dog pee on the grass in front of the building in the range of her balcony.
She is so lucky I did not hear her. By that point in the night, the seeds of discontent had been sown. I would have replied that I would happily keep my dog away from the lawn that she’d actively have to jump over her balcony to reach, as long as she ceased smoking in front of me. I’ve had people request that dogs not be brought onto their property. And that’s their right. I have very little problem with that. I do, however, take issue with someone attempting to claim a public space as their own. We pick up anything solid, and keep our dog off anything that isn’t just plain grass/dirt. What’s the issue?
This probably isn’t helped by the fact that we had a (legitimately) crazy old woman in our old building. She barely spoke English, but somehow always managed to tell me that 1. dogs were not allowed in our building (They were.) and 2. that Piper barked all day and made too much noise (A neat trick, as Piper doesn’t bark.). Her irrational hatred of dogs was only matched by her irrational love of pigeons. Considering the very same pigeons she so lovingly fed came to our balcony to live/poop, I was thisclose to poisoning her loaves of bird bread. [Sidebar: I am a passionate animal lover. People who know me well were shocked when I admitted my poisoning fantasy to them. I do not condone what I just wrote. I did, however, have a 3-foot by 6-inch pile of pigeon leavings on a balcony I could not use. That level of grossness makes a person mean.] I never did, of course, although I often went around picking up and tossing the baked items into the garbage.
I’m not asking you to like my dog. In fact, she’d be a lot happier if you just stayed where you were and ignored her, actually. What I am asking for is a little bit of understanding. Dogs pee where other dogs have peed before. She’s not harming anyone or anything. Most of all, it’s not your grass. And while we’re having this discussion, my dog is allowed inside businesses, buildings, and public transit. Not all places and at all times, but a lot of them. You’re smoking is allowed in exactly none of them, ever. I’m highly allergic to smoke. I’ve never asked someone to not smoke near me. I move. Maybe you should too?
Weeks ago I felt the circumference of my esophageal sphincter relax and heat. In the past, I’ve used almonds to cure heartburn with much success. Of course, chewing on almonds for medicinal purposes is tedious and not always appetizing. I took a chance and tried almond milk. Ereka! It was a simple solution for an often nasty pregnancy side effect.
So why did I not buy more almond milk when we ran out at our new apartment? Excellent question. I do not have an answer for you.
I can tell you that after last night’s ordeal of indigestion/heartburn I will never make that mistake again. It was so obviously bad that at nearly 11 o’clock last night, MFH turned to me in bed and asked if I needed him to go get some rescue almond milk from the 24 hour grocery store before he fell asleep. I’m ashamed to say I considered it for a moment before I admitted that going in the middle of the night, in the rain, was completely ridiculous.
There’s more, of course. Like a cabbie that ignored both myself and his GPS directions in what I can only assume was a bid to make more money. (He did not.) Also the completely unusual 18 minute wait at my midwifery clinic. (I know people seeing ob/gyns who would be ecstatic to only wait 18 minutes.) Waiting in the rain for a bus to the dentist while watching 7 pass going the opposite direction (One of them has to come back my way eventually, right?). And, as much as I really have nothing against the dentist, does anyone like the process of a cleaning?
So that’s all the basis of my Grumpy Bear status today. Only a few more hours of grouchiness left in the day, then hopefully I’ll be back to my usually tempered self. In the meantime, I’m going to do my best to avoid raining my hateraid all over those around me. Because, pregnancy excuse or not, I’d really rather not be the cause of someone elses’ Grumpy Bear Day.