I never thought I’d say this
I don’t want to be a nurse anymore.
Claire Keane
Today's Document

pixel skylines

shark vs the universe

#extradirty

Kaledo Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
noise dept.
Show & Tell
Peter Solarz

ellievsbear

Product Placement
Not today Justin

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Mike Driver
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@thehugginschronicles
I never thought I’d say this
I don’t want to be a nurse anymore.
Eclipse in Chile
I know it’s not nice to brag, but I can’t help it.
When we decided to have kids, I never thought I’d be married to the exception than the rule. You always hear about dads who don’t help, who aren’t empathetic; that’s not my husband.
When we found out I was going to have a baby, he was so excited. He was understanding when I had morning sickness, bringing me a glass of water every time. He understood when I was too tired to do anything other than the bare minimum and he picked up my slack. He drew me baths and helped me when the weight of our growing baby pushed my pelvic bones apart and made it so incredibly painful to walk. He never once made me feel anything other than loved and supported.
He held my hand through labor. He rubbed my back exactly how the nurse showed him while I cried and writhed in back labor. He was my rock. He grounded me. Even though he has a huge needle phobia, he put it aside and held my hand as I got the epidural I so desperately needed, but didn’t want. He let me know that changing our birth plan was okay. Whatever I needed.
He was supportive even through those first hard days. He took care of things so I could “sleep when the baby sleeps” when I started showing signs of postpartum depression, he spoke up at my two week follow up appointment and got me the needed medication.
He cried with me when it was time for me to go back to work.
Even now, he asks me if I need a break. If I do, he gives me one. He takes the baby and actually cares for him so that I can nap or read, or whatever I need to do to recharge and be back at 100%.
He doesn’t push and is understanding that with my low estrogen from breastfeeding, sex is painful right now. He lets me lead and brings me an ice pack when I pull away because I have to stop.
Inevitably, we’ve started talking about when we’d like to try for another. And even though we initially thought we’d like 3-4 kids, he understands that I’m on the fence right now. He gets that pregnancy was hard on me. He understands that I’m going back and forth on having another and if we do, when. While I think I’d like another baby at some point, right now, this little boy is enough for me.
When I explained this to him, I expected him to be upset or even a little disappointed. He surprised me. “Pregnancy was hard on you. We’ve talked about having more, but you’re the one who has to be pregnant. If you don’t want another, than one is plenty for me too. When or if you decide you’re ready for another, I will be too.”
Basically, I have the best partner. He’s the best dad. He is so above and beyond what I expected. He’s my best friend and I love him so much. Watching him interact with our baby is the best.
If you’re going to settle down with someone, don’t settle. Find your best friend. The person you can always be you with. The person you want to eat pizza in your underwear with while watching Harry Potter. I found mine. And if you’re looking, I hope you find yours too 💙
Robert Downey Jr & Tom Holland being the best improv duo
We’re only finding out recently that a lot of animals have colors and patterns that we cannot see because they’re outside of our visual range. It calls to attention how much of the world we can’t experience because our senses are limited. When we shine UV lights on them, they glow pink or blue, but these are the colors that we CAN see…. they could be a bunch of different colors, which we SEE as all pink. It’s also interesting to consider that most of these animals are not aware of having glowing patches on their bodies…. isn’t it also possible that we have skin or hair patterns that were not aware of? . . (There is actually some research out there to support the idea that our own skin fluoresces as well and that there are gender differences in the pattern and glow.) Other places to see my posts: INSTAGRAM / FACEBOOK / ETSY / KICKSTARTER
Humans do have invisible stripes! They’re called Blaschko’s Lines, formed as skin cells divide at the embryonic stage. Normally we can’t see them at all, though certain skin conditions follow those same lines.
Apparently this is roughly what we’d look like, if our eyes could see in a different spectrum:
Dunno about you, but I want to use this in a story someday. Aliens can see our stripes and we can’t! Magical transformations follow Blaschko’s Lines! A subtle sign of lycanthropy is darker hair there! Wizards are bald with that cool spiral on their heads!
Speculative fiction is so much more fun when you can speculate about something strange but true.
THIS??? IS THE COOLEST???? SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY EVER??????????? AAAAAAAA THAT IS FLIPPING AWESOME!!!!!
It does not matter how horrible our day may be. Our love keeps us alive.
Lmao when closed the door I died. This is too cute 😭
oh my god.
let me share a memory with y’all. it’s from i guess 1978 or thereabouts. it’s high summer. i don’t remember where my mom was driving me, in our avocado green chevette, i just know there was a traffic jam that turned 35w northbound into a parking lot from horizon to horizon.
picture it – wait, you don’t have to use your imagination, this happened all the damn time back then.
every one of those damn cars was burning leaded gasoline. there were no emissions regulations. there were no safety regulations. there were just thousands and thousands of detroit steel shoeboxes belching visible smoke as they idled, engines loud and hot, here and there a radiator giving up in the heat, a cloud of burning oil rising.
i, a smeet of five or six, was choking on toxic smog.
i reckon it was about a half hour into the traffic jam that i first threw up. i remember a blinding headache, i remember being confused, i remember dry heaving with my arms and head hanging out the window, the green metal of the car burning my hands and my chin. i don’t remember passing out, but i’m told i lost consciousness before mom was able to get to an off-ramp, because there were no emergency lanes on the highways back then.
i lived. and life went on. what were we going to do, complain? if i’d died, the cause of death probably would’ve been recorded as heatstroke, not carbon monoxide poisoning.
i know i’m probably preaching to the choir here on tumblr. but i really wish i could tell that story to the people who think deregulation is no big deal. i wish they’d put themselves in my mom’s shoes.
or even just look at some old pictures, then look out the window.
ever notice how cityscapes used to have that orange tint and hazy aura? yeah, that’s poison gas.
remember how the mississippi river used to be a stinking soup of baby-shit yellow sludge covered with disturbingly stiff rafts of light orange foam?
i can’t even find pictures of the sludge and foam, i guess they didn’t end up on the internet. the smell was indescribable. that oily shimmer. the reek of dead things. people didn’t boat on the river for pleasure; it smelled too bad, it was too ugly, and you could get super super sick if you touched the water.
and now look at it.
i still wouldn’t want to drink it, but if i fell in i wouldn’t bolt for the shower in a panic, you know?
if the thieving billionaires get their way, we can kiss those sailboats goodbye, and learn the smell of toxic foam once more. the ultra-rich won’t even feel the extra money, they’ve already got more than they could ever touch, they just stash it in offshore accounts to rot, but the rest of us will return to a time of neverending nausea and weird cancers. a time when every elementary school class had at least one kind who’d been born with no fingers or their heart outside their body, and this was just… the way things were.
i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to longpost. it’s just. god. y’all have no idea how CLEAN everything is now, compared to when i was a kid. and these rich old men are counting on that, on people not knowing or not remembering how bad it was before regulation, not realizing how much we need these protections until it’s too late.
I enforce federal worker health and safety and pollution regulations.
When I was learning my trade, when my classmates and I were having a chuckle over the “well duh” level of specificity written into the Code of Federal Regulations (try “no hazardous material shall be stored in crew berthing” on for size), I will never forget the silence that followed when our instructor spoke these words:
“Your regulations are written in blood.”
These regulations were not written on a whim. They were written because someone thought they could cut costs by storing however many more pounds of a radioactive, toxic, carcinogenic, or whatever else material in the same rooms where the human beings they paid to transport those materials slept, and then did that, because no one was telling them not to.
They were written because people died. Horrifically. Because unregulated capitalism values profit over human life and suffering.
Can I say it again, for those not paying attention?
Unregulated capitalism values profit over human life and suffering.
Please note the recalls etc. we’re already seeing with the current US government going after those regulations, and please see Doug Ford up here trying to weaken our water safety regulations again - the last time that happened, under another Conservative government, Walkerton happened and people died. Some died quickly, some lived for years with debilitating illnesses and then died.
Are there occasionally some regulations that seem arbitrary? Sure. But the only people who profit from deregulation as a general philosophy are companies that want to cut corners. The Koch brothers fight to deregulate oil pipelines, and theirs fail PLENTY. They don’t give a fuck.
When I was in middle and highschool, Acid Rain was a VERY BIG issue that we covered in EVERY science class.
Cement buildings and marble historic statues were warped smooth from acid eating off the details. Paint was steadily stripped off cars. Sidewalks had fun little rivulets where lots of water flowed.
The rain around big cities, due to the poisonous, low-PH smog, was literally acidic.
Sulfur- and nitrogen-based air pollution and acid precipitation as well as the dissolution of important nutrients from the soil are still causing the spruce and fir trees of the forests to die, while brush and other forms of wildlife struggled to survive in the areas where the water cycle pushed city smog and precipitated it into rainfall.
The first phase of emission reductions ordered by the U.S. Clean Air Act Amendments of 1990 was begun in 1995 - So, I was 4 years old when we STARTED regulating coal-fired power plants and vehicles.
Sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxide smog was reduced by about 88%, and Hey! It’s 2020 and there’s no ACID falling from the SKY!
Environmental Regulations are IMPORTANT.
American Girl stories were the best tbh
Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house
Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies.
Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable.
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around.
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times.
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience.
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl.
Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books.
Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.
American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.
These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!
If you’re gonna make tiny humans with someone, make them with the person who takes an active role in their lives while you’re still growing them in your uterus.
Make them with someone who, without complaint or even your asking, gets up with you at 3am and silently rubs your back while you sit in the bath and bawl about how uncomfortable/in pain you are, how tired you are, and how you just want to hold your baby on the outside.
Make them with the person who, once you’re calm and ready, helps you get out of the bath, wraps you in a warm towel right out of the dryer, and whispers that he can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through, but that he wishes he could take at least some of it away and bear it for you.
Make them with the person who, when you start crying again, pulls you into a tight embrace and holds you until you’re out of tears. Then, helps you up the stairs and back in to bed, because the child you’re carrying has put such pressure on your pelvis, that the simple act of raising your leg causes almost unbearable pain.
Make them with the person who then strokes your hair and asks if you have a backache and would you rather they rub your usually sore lower back. Make them with the person who does whichever you need until you fall back asleep.
Make them with someone like my husband.
you know what’s a good feeling? a real good feeling?
when sunbeams do this.
that is all.
It warms my heart that Robert Irwin is the same goofball his father was
chaotic dumbass
I nearly spit out my fucking drink.
I live and work in a state that has had very slow COVID-19 transmission. This is good. It means that the hospitals won’t get overwhelmed. It means that our ppe most probably won’t be depleted too soon.
But it means that we won’t peak until sometime in May. While it isn’t inherently bad that we’ll peak so late, it has other consequences.
My baby is due in early June. He will most likely be born sometime in May, given my family history of early deliveries.
Until this all settles down, my hospital’s policy is that once baby is born, everyone gets a surgical mask to protect baby.
And I’d do anything to protect him from anything.
And I know it’s selfish to feel this way, but it saddens me that the first thing he’s going to see when he opens his little eyes won’t be my face, radiating all the love I have for him, but will be a blue surgical mask covering my whole visible face but my eyes.
This is not the world I envisioned my sweet boy being born into.