Can You Make the Connection?

Mr. Rant is Traumatized

I approached Mr. Rant with some mindless conversation today obviously because I'm his wife and that is my job. I casually mentioned that I made myself a doctor's appointment for a couple of reasons but that I really wanted to talk to her about the patch.

He literally yelled "NO!" at me. I was a little confused at first. I was talking about the nicotine patch because I'm sick and tired of slipping back into a cigarette here and there (and maybe that will help me jump this nasty little hurdle). That's when it hit me, he was talking about the birth control patch!

That made me laugh out loud and simultaneously console him. Poor Mr. Rant is traumatized when it comes to birth control. You see we have had our own psychological ups and downs with those special little doses of hormones.

When we first got together I got on the pill. I knew that I'm not the coolest person in the world on the pill but I figured the honeymoon sex action would make up for it.

Well, Debbie Downer is not that attractive to most men. The pill made me cry... over everything. I swear one time he turned around, just turned around. I however broke into tears and asked why he turned around like that at me. Seriously people, I was crazy.

That started the birth control merry go round of what keeps us away from condoms while not getting me pregnant and not making me crazy.

The special one that really traumatized Mr. Rant was the shot. Poor guy confuses it with the patch, probably a reaction from his Rachel birth control Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. The story goes like this: somehow my Gyno and I thought that if I couldn't handle daily doses of hormones shooting 3 months worth in one go was a good idea. I tell you this, I wasn't weepy.

Oh no sir, I was Satan.

Honestly, I balanced between zero sympathy for the human race and full on hatred. If Mr. Rant dare turn around in a funky way I would just knock that head right off his shoulders! Ok, I never actually got violent but you get the picture.

While I was rational and knew I was Satan, it still took a good couple of months for the hormones to even out. Sadly the race to a good birth control killed the very thing we were working towards: honeymooners disorder (ie. banging like bunnies).

In the end we went back to the exact thing we were trying to avoid, the good old fashioned condom. At least I can say that it gets the job done without making anyone go insane.

A Força Da Rocinha

This is in Portuguese and sadly I couldn't find it posted with English subtitles. I suppose I could get on that... Anyway, this is a series about life in Rocinha. I like it as it doesn't seem to be the normal report about "suffering" and "poverty" but actually about life and the people who live there. Check it out!

By the way, there are about 6 or 7 parts on youtube. This is only the first one. 

Web MD Gave Me Cancer

Photo by: http://cellaphonic.blogspot.com/2010/12/tale-of-giant-hive-monster.html

I worry about my health in a way I never did when I didn't have kids. It's as if I am overly aware of my own mortality. I can't help it.

The idea of something happening to me while my kids are small is my biggest fear! I get choked up just thinking about it. Losing your Mommy at any age is difficult. That and I selfishly want to be here forever just to see every single moment in their little lives.

So all this is making me a bit of a hypochondriac. I'm exhausted beyond belief, as any Mother is, and part of me starts to wonder if I have cancer. I take longer to get over illnesses, I have heart palpitations, and I get winded easily. Of course this can all be easily explained:

Longer to get over illnesses: I hardly ever sleep and eating right is a day by day battle. That and I am getting older plus have two kids and a husband whose needs normally come first.

Heart Palpitations: Well if I am getting myself all stressed out about cancer than my anxiety level may be a bit high.

Winded easily: This one is simply called a lack of cardio. I used to be in such good shape. Key there: Used to be! Of course I could nip that in the butt with a little effort but the whole exhausted thing along with the family thing gives lack of motivation an unfair advantage over motivation.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not that person that sits on the computer looking over Web MD all day. I keep it occasional as dying from a heart attack in front of the computer while reading about heart attacks is just way to cliche for this girl.

Do any of you other Mothers ever think about this stuff? Do you ever wonder if your lack of self care is going to bite you and your family in the ass? Are you particularly good at taking care of everything and yourself? If so, got any tips? 

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? 


Here are the rules… 

Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post.
No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
Link up your post.
Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

I Rocked my Rock in Rio

After 3 hours of traffic and popping a squat next to the car in the private parking area (it was empty by the way), I felt 25 yrs old and ready to see some shows!

Rock in Rio was impressive. The infrastructure was amazing! There were a TON of bathrooms, all cleaner than most bars in this city. There was space, tons and tons of space! I was thinking that I was going to end up spending the next 12 hours pressed up against strangers in that creepily close way you do during Carnaval. That wasn't the case though. People with space issues like myself were able to get away from the crowds and still be entertained.

Oh, and there was free booty. No, not that kind of booty (although I bet you could find it too). Wherever you went there was someone offering you some random little treat from some random brand. My personal favorite is the ever phallic Volkswagen blow up drum stick. It brought a whole knew level of classy to Rock in Rio.

Then came the shows. Poor Lenny Kravitz! He just didn't relate to his crowd. Then again, the man was kind of screwed. They had him sandwiched in between Brazilian singer Ivete Sangalo and Shakira. Those two women are some serious Latin Pop. Lenny was busting out his jazzy pothead tunes to a crew who were looking for hips and seriously danceable beats. I have to say, it seemed like he considered crowd acceptance was a given. Yeah Lenny, doesn't work out that way.

Now Shakira, that woman gave the show of a lifetime. Hell, it was so good that I listened to a bunch of her newer music I didn't know and half the Spanish stuff I didn't even understand. What can I say, the hips don't lie and apparently she is my puppet master.

She busts out onto the stage with "Estoy Aqui," loud and in your face. Brilliant move as my Mother-in-law's Brazilian Golden Retriever even knows that song. Within the first 15 seconds the crowd was hers.

But she didn't leave it to just that. She interacted. She spoke an adorable Portuguese with a thick Colombian accent. I LOVED it! Everyone ate it up with chop sticks.  She also called people on stage and challenged them to follow her hip moves. I will say, the Brazilian ladies held their own. Basically, this woman went out there to work. She did her job and she did it well! She was there to please.  Needless to say, I am getting my little hands on every song of hers that is available.

All and all I think that Rock in Rio was a huge success. Wait, did I just state the obvious? Anyway, I will say that maybe the government should just privatize the city of Rio de Janeiro. After Rock in Rio I'm seeing the the private sector knows how to pull shit off!

*On a side note, there were some obvious separations of class upon entry, being that Rock in Rio is placed next to a favela. I'll save those thoughts and feelings for another blog post.