It Was The Bra…

My mom has a habit of blaming anything but the thing that needs to be blamed.  She used to blame my panic attacks on asthma.  She used to blame my pale skin on anemia.  She used to blame a hot day on my dads bad attitude.  She loves to blame the wrong thing to make herself feel better, when in reality, my panic attacks were from stress, my pale skin was from being sick, my dads bad attitude was because he is an alcoholic.

So, you see, she doesn’t make a whole lot of since.

Recently she had a scare.  She found a dimple on her breast and was terrified that it was cancer.  After a lot of searching, testing, and getting felt up, it was confirmed that she did not.  Yesterday she posted an article on Facebook about how bras do more harm than good, maybe even causing cancer.  Okay, maybe bras suck, but you’d think she would stop smoking cigarettes after a cancer scare, instead of burning all her bras.  But this is what she does.  She blames her mother quitting smoking for the reason her mother developed pancreatic cancer.  This is a direct quote “She quit smoking then, BAM!  Ten years later, pancreatic cancer.”

I wish that was a joke.  I think it would make for a very funny line in a movie where they are trying to prove that someones mother has lost their damn mind, but it’s not funny in reality, because she really, truly believes that… somehow.

I wish I could convince her to stop smoking.  I very much love my mom, but you know, if she stops smoking… bam…. ??

Yikes

I’m a little confused about something, so I thought I’d write about it and see if anyone has any ideas.  Maybe someone else understands this…

My family seems to think that they should all come up here and be here during the birth, while I’m in the hospital, and when I get home.  I get that we will probably need some help and guidance for the first few days, but holy cow, I do not want eight people all up in our business during the craziest moments of our lives.  I mean, am I completely crazy??  Is it wrong to only want your parents and your husbands parents there?  Could you imagine getting home from the hospital with a newborn, your FIRST baby, and everyone is everywhere, and your house is in chaos, and everyone wants to put their two cents in to how you are doing everything?  That seems more stressful than having to go through labor…. and it honestly might be.

Not to mention that my sister keeps asking me how long it took us to get pregnant, which I don’t think is anyone’s business.  She doesn’t even know about what we went through, yet for some reason she wants to know.  Is this something that everyone shares with people?  If you are a normal person, who can get pregnant like nature intended, do you get offended when someone basically asks you how long you and your husband were humping before you got conceived?  Because that’s basically what she’s asking.  I find it rude.  If someone wants to offer that information to you that’s one thing, but you don’t ask.  Right?

Ugh, maybe I’m just too worked up tonight.  I’m already stressed out because my dad had a heart attack last night.  I’m not super surprised, because heart problems run in my family and he’s a smoker and a drinker, and has a horrendous diet, but it’s still a shock to hear that your dad is in the hospital and had to have a stint put in, and that he has muscle damage on 20% of his heart. He described it as having “20% of his heart die,” which freaked me out a good deal.  I’m the calm one, the rational one, so I don’t get worked up over things like this, but I still want him to be healthy and happy for a lot longer, so I am upset.  I’m hoping this is the big push my family needs to get themselves into a healthier lifestyle.  My dad hates being in the hospital and feeling helpless, so if anything is going to help him get on the ball, it’ll be this…. as sad as it is to say that having a heart attack is the only thing that might get through to him.

I’m now going to go hang out with my husband and relax.  Try to forget about all of this stress.  I just had to vent though.  My husband let me vent and then decided that I was too worked up and needed to stop talking about it all together.  He’s right, but I think one last outlet on my anger was very helpful.

I hope you are all enjoying your weekend!