This post is ranty. This is your disclaimer. This will allow me to segue into my first point...
I guess I didn't realize how much pent up energy or anger or frustration or whatever i had lurking in my heart of darkness after serving in the peace corps. Spending two years living without things at different times: pride, privacy, dignity, choice, attractiveness, peers, friends, intellectual stimulation, communication, transportation, comfort, etc., really took it's toll. Combine that with some physical pain and restriction from my injury, separation from my fiancee, moving back in with my parents-sister-and-nephew, and the growing of a fetus, you've got yourself one big tornado of stress whirling your way. I've never been so volitile and stupid (pregnancy fog), and both of those things are increasingly frustrating.
Because of my injury and abrupt termination of peace corps service, i did not have the benefit of attending any workshops the organzation provides volunteers about transitioning into "normal life" again. I see now that would have been really helpful. My sister tells me I talk to everyone like they're old and stupid. (Well, they're probably one or the other right?! Heh heh, sorry...) She says I hurt her feelings all the time because I say things too bluntly. I find myself being increasingly less compassionate and tolerant. How much of this is post peace corps and how much is the pregnancy and stress? I don't know, but I think I need to create a cave. I used to have one, it was called my own house. And when I had roommates, I used my art studio for this retreat. Perhaps I ought to get busy finding something similar before i alienate myself from everyone I know, eh?
Another odd discovery about pregnancy is that I'm beginning to see little parts poking from my belly. Possibly elbows and knees, or maybe little fists? Thanks, little one, for punching and kicking. That means you're still alive! Who needs a machine that goes, "ping!"? It's weird for me to feel around to try and tell which position it's in because it kind of freaks me out. Some people just cannot accept my clinical fascination over an emotional response, but I'm not really surprised. These same people rely on their emotions far too much for my fancy in other situations, so it only makes sense. No matter though, because it is my pregnancy and I'll enjoy it or be freaked out by it if I want.
I've ALREADY been battling my mom and sister about baby stuff. I am just not a stuff person, and I never will be. And neither is my child, at least, not yet. No matter how many times you ask me, or bring stuff home, or try to convince me, I do not need stuff. And neither do you. You have been convinced by clever marketing to think you need stuff. If you need a reminder of your disgusting dependence on physical items to fulfill your needs, I recommend viewing the film, "Fight Club." Reading the book is alternately recommended. I actually find it comical that they cannot comprehend how a baby can survive without a jumping gymnasium, playmat with junk hanging down from it, whirling singing toys, and the like. Perhaps in the same way they have done so for millions of years before the arrival of Fisher Price? Just fine, or in fact, maybe even more successfully, because this means another human will have to be involved in the baby's exercise and playtime as opposed to the baby being left to exercise in some equipment while no one else is around. It's not that I don't understand how a lot of these things can make life easier for a person, or how much joy they receive from their things. I just happen to favor old fashioned people over things and would rather have less than more.