The end for Jon and Kate

And by that, I mean the couple, not the show. I am a fan of the show, but I don’t really care at this point whether it ends or not. I understand why they started it and why they kept doing it. They needed to take care of their family and I, for one, am grateful for the inspiration and warm-hearted moments they provided during their first few seasons. I don’t think they are, or ever were, any more hungry for money or fame than the next person, but come on. Let’s be honest. If someone offered you a reality show and told you it would make you famous and rich, would you say no? Not even consider it? Especially when you have eight children to raise and put through college? I don’t think so. No one could have foreseen how this show would explode and I doubt that many of you who keep recommending they “walk away” would really find it that easy to do so.

I am saddened to hear of the end of their marriage, but I am almost as saddened by the sick, jealous comments I have read about the couple in the past few weeks. The Gosselin family turmoil has brought out a side of the American public that saddens, sickens, and enrages me. They are REAL PEOPLE. A REAL couple with children who are breaking up. This isn’t a primetime drama on the CW, no matter what storylines they may or may not have come up with for ratings in the past. This is no storyline, as far as I can tell. A family is really dissolving before our eyes and all that most see fit to do is to make terrible, inappropriate comments about real human beings with whom they aren’t even acquainted. You do not know Jon and Kate Gosselin or their children, people. No matter how often you have watched them on TV. Neither is perfect, but neither is the devil or a “fame whore” or any of the other horrible epithets I have read about them (mostly Kate) lately. Also, if I read one more time that Kate deserved to be cheated on, I will scream. For one thing, we don’t know that Jon cheated. For another, no one deserves to be cheated on. If you don’t like the way someone treats you, you speak up or you leave.

It seems to me that Jon and Kate were doing fine before the American public stuck their dubious two cents in. Everyone who has made a nasty comment about this couple should be ashamed of themselves. We are all becoming way too casual with what we say about others.  This callousness towards others is a big part of what is wrong with our country and the world today. When you say something terrible about someone else, it hurts you and the person about whom you have said it, no matter how famous they are. It hurts the world.

soap disposal

My husband and I were talking a few nights ago and we agreed that there are three classes of people – those who throw the last sliver of soap in the trash, those who throw it in the toilet, and those who smush it down the drain of the shower or tub. My husband is a smusher. I usually dispose of it in the toilet, but have experimented with the other two methods of disposal. Now we just  have to figure out what each group says about the people in it. And come up with snappier, less unwieldy titles for the toilet and trash groups.

IMG_3485

Am I the only one ….

who waits as long as she possibly can after a hair appointment before washing her hair, in order to preserve the hairstylist’s handiwork for as long as possible? That first post-styling wash usually either makes me anxious or depresses me. Not only am I reminded that I just cannot replicate the results my stylist achieves, even when I buy the same products and tools, but my hair usually freaks out after being cut and looks worse than usual. It takes it about a week to recover. I have to admit, I have opted for somewhat dirty hair before rather than face that experience.

woes of a packrat

Why, oh why, is it so difficult to give up the rest of my videotapes when I don’t even have a VCR hooked up to play them on?

addle-brained pregnant lady

Thanks to Mommy-to-be brain, I managed to forget my way out of my neighborhood this morning. Or maybe the almost-triple-digit temperature at 10 am. was frying my brain. Pregnancy in Texas in summer is not for the faint of heart.

Damn that Lance Armstrong

Why did he have to name his new son Max? That makes two celebrities I know of who named their sons Max in recent months – him and Charlie Sheen. I am planning on naming my son Max, because I love the name, but I also liked the fact that it was a bit under the radar. It doesn’t turn up on any of the top name lists, but now it will probably start to. Friends already ruined Emma for me! Don’t take away Max!!

tender-headed

I get unreasonably annoyed when I am finger-combing my hair (or combing or brushing it at all) and I hit a snag. It seems like the most surprising, hurtful annoyance. Especially when I have already brushed my hair five times. How are there more tangles??? I guess I am still tender-headed. I used to run away from my mother screaming when she would brush my hair when I was a child. At least, when I thought I could get away with it. We have a picture of my paternal grandfather comforting me after I ran from my mom and the brush. I still probably got spanked, which shows how much I hated having my long, tangled hair brushed. I would get so fed up I was willing to risk a spanking.

Eventually, I started brushing my own hair and I realized why it was so hard for my mom. It was soooo long and thick. Plus, my short, little arms couldn’t reach the bottom of my hair with the brush. My mom noticed too late one morning when dropping me off at school that the bottom half of my hair was still tangled. She couldn’t catch me in time. I was mortified when I found out. My mortification remained unsurpassed until she let me go off to school with my fly unzipped on picture day in 8th grade. And who was it who noticed my fly was unzipped and started laughing uncontrollably? Oh, yes. My ex-boyfriend. Ever since that day, I have compulsively checked my fly, even when there is no chance of it being unzipped. In fact, it took me awhile to stop checking my maternity jeans, even though they have no fly.

I have finally let go of my resentment towards my mother for not making sure I was properly attired before school twice in the thirteen years during which I attended school living under her roof.  However, the paranoia will last forever.

lazy pregnant lady

If my biggest problem is that I can’t manage to get up before noon (Well, more than four minutes before noon.) during my first month of summer vacation, which happens to coincide with my ninth month of pregnancy, then I’m a pretty lucky person.

crazy pregnant lady

I found myself talking out loud to myself in Whole Foods today. And you know what? It was strangely comforting. I said that part out loud, too.

skin issues

I wonder why I am so fascinated with zits, scabs, and bug bites. It takes every bit of my willpower to leave them alone and not squeeze, pick, or scratch until they swell mutinously (or in the case of a scab, bleed). I have heroically managed to start leaving my husband and, to a lesser extent, my cat Earl Grey (He gets mysterious back wounds that scab over.) alone, which demonstrates the sheer force of my love for them. Why are skin abnormalities so fascinating? Should I have been a dermatologist?

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