Sunday, February 04, 2007

bite me

So on March 26, my face is going to be cracked open, rearranged and put back together again, hopefully with something more substantial than duct tape and flour paste.

Thrilled? Why yes, I am. Am also lying, but thank you for asking.

I cannot begin tell you how pissed I am that I've got to go through this hell because my parents..What? I need to let go of the past? well, duh...but anyway, bitter, pissed and what have you, that my parents were so fucking cheap that, in lieu of orthodontic advice, they had my crooked teeth extracted instead of straightened because, do you really need more than two molars on each corner? Actually you do, especially when your head is still growing and your brain is saying things to itself like "now I need to add a bit more over here to make room for all those other teeth to come through". Take away the teeth and the brain goes "Oh. Okay. Where did that space come from? Whatever, with those teeth gone it looks like that bit is as big as it needs to be, lets work on growing something else to adulthood and leave that bit alone". Granted, teeth were routinely extracted back in the day, but they were generally extracted in cahoots with banding, and often a palate expansion thingy was used make sure the hapless child's face wouldn't get stuck in some kind of dental Groundhog Day. Had that been my experience and had my parents sought the second opinion my dentist recommended (read: had my parents not been so fucking tight), I wouldn't be needing this face breaking shit that scares the bejeepers out of me that also makes me bitter. Let's not forget that bit.

Also, I'm going to look different, so I'd better end up looking like Angelina fucking Jolie because by crikey, there'll be trouble. I mean, shit, if I've got to through all this there ahd better be some visible benefits as well. Thing is, the things (thing things?) I don't like about my face - my sunken cheekbones, my mannish lower jaw, my teeth when I smile - are all the direct results from my bad dentistry, so hopefully I won't hate the end result. My mum looked like a movie star when she was younger, my dad too, and my brother still looks like he fell out of a modelling agency. And then there's me who, while not ugly, am definitely the plain one of the family. Had I kept my teeth and had some orthodontic work, I might have ended up stunning, and no doubt so in love with my looks that I'd have also ended up alone and bitter anyway - but at least I would have looked good doing it!!

Daniel's fate for the week I'm in hospital and the first week I'm back at home are still to be decided. Childcare said they'd take him for five days a week instead of his usual three, just let them know the dates, but having told them the dates on Friday, she was all "Oh dear, I need to check the dates. We might not have any spaces available". The fuck?! Although it is a good metaphor for my teeth. Point being, that's still to be sorted which, fuckityfuck. My SIL said she should be able to collect Daniel from daycare and stay with him at my place overnight, and then take him back in the morning before heading off to work, lather rinse repeat. She lives anywhere from 20-45 minutes away, depending on the traffic, and works from home, so while I think its a big ask to go back and forth twice a day and obviously the guilt, oh the guilt, she says it's what families do. They pull together. Considering the last twenty years, I'm still a bit bunny in the headlights about that whole family jive, but I'll deal with my guilt if my little boy is looked after by people he rather enjoys.

Also and in unrelated news, I have question for you all, my multitude of loyal fans. Herewith the question: does breastfeeding...though, wait. Would you prefer I call it 'nursing'? I've noticed that y'all over yonder refer to it most often as 'nursing' - is that because 'breastfeeding' actually makes reference to the required apparatus? Or is it because you're an economic bunch and 'nursing' contains only two syllables? Anyway, the question relates to my feet in reference to, um, nursing. The problem here being that you say 'nursing' I think medical personnel. "I nursed my son?" "I gave him a sponge bath and earlier in the day I handed over the scalpel when the doctor barked the order in the OR.". Can't help it. ANYWAY! My feet vis a vis breastfeeding. Or nursing. Whatever. They get kind of swollen, is all. Puffy, like I'm storing several buckets of water in them puffy. It started when I was around seven months pregnant, which was to be expected given every woman on the earth gets feet like an elephants while pregnant. I thought they'd go back to my regular feet, albeit wider and more ducklike thankyouverrymuch relaxin, shortly after I became unpregnant. They still swell up though, and even my ankles look chunkier to me, so the question is, does breastfeeding cause you to retain water? Which begs the question, if so, is it limited to my lower extremities or can I hope to see more of my hip bones sometime in the near future too? I'm only a couple of pounds above my pre-pregnant weight, but my hips are all floofy and I seem squishy in the middle. Very annoying, given I still totally have issues with actual and perceived fat. See, my 'recovery' was simply because I got too lazy to keep being anorexic. That starving shit is hard, man. Seriously. Anyway, my ankles (and possibly my whole doughy body!)? Breastfeeding? Yes? No? Or can I have the question again please, Virgil?

Also! Daniel's hair. To cut or not to cut? It's pretty fucking long. On the one hand, I figure he has an entire lifetime of social norms determining the shorter do, so why not give him a few more years of long, flowing hippy hair? On the other hand, he'd probably look cuter with an inch or so off the ends, but do I really want to make decisions in re my son based on my wants for his looks? But then again, if his looks are the issue, check it. Doesn't he make an adorable girl?

I really do send myself nuts with things that totally don't matter that much. Or do they? Is this important? (again with the nuts making, oy)

Lastly, I finally uploaded an additional *drumroll* ten photos to flickr. Woot!

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