judgy judgerson

So, I’ve been neglecting the heck out of my blog lately, and for that I apologize, not that anyone wants to read my apologies or anything but just, yeah, I know I haven’t been posting as much lately.  If you’re on Twitter, I’ve been doing a lot more tweeting, so you can always find me there.  Now onto the reason I’m finally compelled/inspired to post again.

I spend a lot of time reading blogs, particularly feministy ones, and particularly Jezebel.com.  Often, Jezebel will cover a high profile nutcase, be they Heidi Montag or Octomom, and then the comments roll in, usually in two distinct categories.  One set of comments is people snarking on or criticizing said nutcase, and the other is the “How dare you JUDGE this nutcase!” as if freedom from judgment is somehow enshrined in the Bill of Rights somewhere.

The most recent example was a post yesterday about the Duggar family, specifically their decision to pose with their most recent child, a premie still fighting for her life in the NICU, in People magazine, and their revelation that they are still open to having more children, even though this most recent pregnancy was life-threatening to both Michelle and Josie. Continue reading “judgy judgerson”

it’s outta my hands

This is sort of how I imagine the computer that does the match. Image via Flickr user Lori and the Bell Jar.

At some point in toddlerhood, it eventually hits all of us, the “I can do it by myself!”  And from that point on, to be human is to want to be in charge of ourselves.  You’re not the boss of me! I choose my choice! I’m in charge!

Lately, though, I find myself feeling like a toddler, trying to DO IT BY MYSELF, and this thing called life keeps reminding me that I’m not always the boss of me, I don’t always get to choose my choice.  Boy oh boy does the medical education system that owns our lives right now make that clear.  You see, in three weeks, Jon will get an email that will suddenly reveal what we’ll be doing with our lives for the next three years. And it’s more than driving me nuts. Continue reading “it’s outta my hands”

maybe baby

Image via the Google LIFE photo archive.
This lady makes it look sort of fun...Image via the Google LIFE photo archive.

I’m married to a pediatrician. This means he really likes kids. This means he spends a lot of time around kids. This means that he spends a lot of time giving people advice ABOUT kids. This means at some point he needs to have a kid so he can test out for himself all the stuff he spends his days telling people about kids. This means at some point I need to have a kid.

And for a long time, this has pretty much been my line on the subject: “Yeah, I guess at some point I need to have a kid so Jon will know what he’s talking about!” (This is mostly a joke– he’s a great doctor, and most doctors spend their days treating things with which they have no experience. We don’t require oncologists to have had cancer, and most women are ok with male gynecologists, even if those men don’t really know what it’s like to possess a uterus, ovaries, or vagina.)

My other line on the subject has been that I won’t have a kid while my husband is a resident, working 80 hours per week, because “I didn’t get married just so I could be a single mom.” But we’re into our final year of residency, so that line won’t work for much longer.

Add to this that my husband is about to have a milestone birthday and is currently working in the nursery, surrounded by adorable babies and happy families, and you’ve got a clock ticking. I’m not even sure it’s a biological clock, but rather, some sort of societal clock that expects certain things to happen at certain times, particularly in the South and in the Christian culture in which we operate. Continue reading “maybe baby”

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