The headline on CNN this morning was "Americans Forget" which set the tone for my day. I am frustrated even now with how we deal with 9/11 in this country. Americans haven't forgotten (not that we could ever be allowed to forget even if we should want to) but as culture we are ill equipped to deal with tragedy and God knows we avoid dealing with death at all costs. 9/11 changed all of our lives whether we knew anyone in New York or DC that day, whether we are associated with the military, whether we even lived in the country that day. 9/11 has been used to justify all kinds of things, some of them positive but many negative and we are all still having the hangover six years later.
I have nothing new to add to the subject except scorn for the idea that Americans have forgotten. Fake patriotism and flag waving isn't honoring the dead nor is it particularly American. So shut the fuck up CNN.
Of course it feels inappropriate to talk about anything else today but I am going to do it anyway. I was up very late watching Monday Night Football (so stressful) last night. We were on edge watching the 49ers do absolutely nothing until the last minutes of the game (except for the defense which was fantastic) and then Alex Smith finally march on the field. Thank God because J was upsetting the whole neighborhood with his screaming of obscenities. Between football and baseball this time of year is just nerve-wracking in our house. And loud. And possibly R-Rated for language.
Yesterday we also found out that little Muppet is a she. Which, frankly, stunned me silly in the ultrasound room. I had pretty much decided that she was a boy and was extremely unprepared. Happy, of course, but shocked. J whispered very quietly in that room, "well there goes Boy Name We Chose" and then broke into a grin. Bittersweet is what you call it I think. Because that is what this whole thing is about for us, gaining something really lovely but letting go of possibilities. The possibility of a boy is gone (well I suppose the tech could have been wrong but I do have a picture of her labia so I doubt it) and the reality of a daughter has set in.
I am terrified to be a mother of a girl. First, the explosion of pink is coming now and I doubt I shall be able to stop it even though I will try and try and try. Second, gah my mind just blew up with all the shit to worry about--none of which I can do anything about right now so I will just stop. Those of you who have ever been a thirteen year old girl can probably guess what I am thinking about.
Plus, we don't have a name. We shook on the boy's name ages ago, it's been settled since long before the Muppet existed. For girl names we are continents apart and the battles are ugly. We hate what each other likes and can I just suggest to all of you ever considering having a child well EVER start negotiating now. Get the solution written out in blood. Otherwise you will find yourself shrieking during halftime of Monday Night Football about how NONAME LASTNAME SOUNDS GOOD RIGHT because that is rational.
So yes, it's a girl. How do I stop the pink?