Archive | November, 2012

Grocery Shopping: what it’s like right now.

26 Nov

I went grocery shopping this afternoon, and, had I taken the time right when I got home to attempt to write this post, you’d know just how agitated the experience made me.  Since becoming pregnant with Manley Baby #3, I’ve not done much of the shopping.  Or any of the shopping.  Or anything except lie around trying to convince myself that a baby is worth feeling this nauseated.

Anyway, today, I went.  I even took Zoe.  We went to Aldi’s first, and I was feeling pretty good about the endeavor.  Zoe was behaving well, and I had gotten what I needed for the money I had at Aldi’s.  Great.  So then we move onto phase two of any Manley shopping trip (as of late, anyway):  going to a second store to use the WIC checks we have that soon expire.  (Indiana WIC info, in case you’re interested.)  I absolutely hate using WIC checks but am simultaneously insanely grateful for the supplement to our food budget.

If you’re not familiar with WIC at all, here’s a quick run-down of how it works (at least in actually using the checks you get allotted):  You go to your WIC office and sign-up; you get the checks for whoever in your family qualifies (right now, just Lazarus and Zoe as I haven’t signed myself up yet with this pregnancy); you take the checks to a grocery store that accepts them (most groceries, really); you desperately try to get the right things on the check (more on this in a moment); you take forever to check out and sometimes get eye-rolls from the unfortunate people in line behind you.  (Some of this may or may not be exaggerated…)  Each check’s got a list of items that you can get with it; it gets a little bit confusing when you have to start matching items on the shelves to the listed item.  They (WIC, the store) really try to make it easy for you as there are usually little “WIC approved” stickers next/under the right cheese, milk, or bread and the brochure that guides you to the correct choice with both descriptions and color photos is quite helpful.  But every once in a while stuff gets confusing.  Like, today, I had a check that said “16 oz or less cheese”.  In the past, I’ve gotten 2 blocks of 8 oz cheeses for a total of, ta-dah, 16 oz no problem-o.  Today, however, that was not to be so.  I had to specifically get 16 oz of one kind of cheese in one particular package.

And here is where I don’t like WIC anymore.  Why does it matter that I should get 2 packages versus 1?  What difference is that going to make?  All it does for me is remind me again how limited my choices are in life right now.  Isn’t that an over-reaction?!  But it’s true.  We need this WIC cheese right now; we don’t have much money at all and food is one of those funny things you can’t really do without.  So, I’m grateful; I’m so happy that we have this government assistance we can use right now.  We might not be drinking milk if not for it.  But….  Why does it have to be so effing specific?  I know that you don’t want me to buy white bread and only buy whole wheat; great.  I get it.  But that it has to be this specific brand and type and absolutely, by no means off by even a little bit…  I don’t know.  I understand the brand specificity as I think they actually partner with certain companies, but I’m just being upset about being reminded that this is where we are right now.  And it doesn’t feel like we’ll ever not be here, with no choices to make and no escape.


This is probably the worst post ever.  Let me sum it up:  I’m upset that we are… what’s a better word for poor?  And by poor, I of course mean “American poor” not “poorest in the world”.  I am using the internet in my heated home right now, after all.  So nobody jump on my back.  GEEZ.


Two months later…

14 Nov

Ah, so I was not very good at keeping up with my strict deadlines and M-W-F format, now was I?

In part, it’s because I’ve been pregnant (and continue to be) and not feeling well.  And by “not feeling well” I mean either puking or feeling like I’m just about to puke just about every day for the past couple of months.  So there’s that.  And the fact that I’m so incredibly tired.  Like I sleep 10+ hours at night, still need at least a short nap during the day, and go back to bed around 8pm.  I seriously freaked out at the idea that thought I was pregnant with twins for a while, but, no, just a single baby can make you this exhausted.  Maybe the baby has replaced all my blood with something heavier; say, Nyquil, for example.

Then, you know, there was that entire election thing.  Right?  Man, I was SUPER into that.  I mean, I had to miss weeks of my favorite shows with all those debates and crap.  That really cut into the time I was willing to stay awake at night.  Obviously.

Aaaand… well, here’s the main thing, actually:  Like I talked some about before, I don’t know what direction to take this blog.  Or even if I need a direction.  And I don’t know how personal to make it.  If you and I met in person, I’d have no trouble spilling my guts if I felt like you’d be okay with it.  (And, as I’m sure many can attest to, I’d probably cry all over you even if we had just met and maybe you weren’t so okay with it.)  I’ve lived life on the edge of crying for years now, so it’s easy to be vulnerable and not really give a shit about it.  Honestly.  I mean, okay, I probably care a little at the very least, but I’m comfortable putting a lot out there because I really think it’s obvious what a wreck I am.  Until recently, I thought the mangled way I felt on the inside was clearly visible from face; that you could just tell by looking at me that I was suicidal and not sure how to dig myself out of it; that I didn’t know what to believe about faith and God because I didn’t have faith in much; that I was still mad at my mom at a 20-something and not sure what that meant.  Couldn’t you just see it?  So what would the point be in trying to hide it?

But I know now that it’s not obvious.  And especially from your vantage point as the reader, it’s really not obvious.  I could write about how my shit smells like roses and how totally confident I am as a parent and wife and here’s all of my advice for you to follow in my perfectly sized footsteps.  But that’s not the kind of thing I would want to read.  I’d want to read something real.  But how real should you be?  Especially when your marriage is a little (or a lot) shaky.  Especially when you get pregnant and maybe don’t know how to deal with it.  Especially when things are just messy in your life approximately 89% of the time.  How, then, do I define being “real” but also being cognizant that this is the internet and everyone can see everything I say?

But I guess my response is F it.  I’m just going to try to do this thing, for whatever reason, and I’m just going to do it raw.  Maybe it’ll be too much and I’ll have to end up deleting things, but whatever.  Eventually I’ll have nice things to write about, so just keep holding on to that.