Decision Time

I could apologise for being a bad blogger and going AWOL but that would be too commonplace for me and besides, we all know bloggers everywhere get tired of blogging from time to time.  I’ll make it back more regularly posting, you know I will.

Life has been very much falling back into ‘normal’ for me.  Summer is finally here for us and that means Gavin is out of school (YAY!! No more homework for me!)  Our family is trying to figure out if we’d like to get an above ground pool this summer so if you have any experience with that feel free to let us know.  Feel free to work “Spend that money on yourself and go on a kid/husband free vacation to _____ instead!!” into your reply.  Especially if you offer for me to stay with you.  Especially if you are my sister going to the Hamptons this summer!

I was stuck in ‘no change’ land for a long time with my weight.  I was getting extremely annoyed because I was DOING all the same things that I knew worked but my weight was not changing.  Finally literally overnight I dropped to 174 on Thursday morning.  It meshed up with the return of my beloved cycles so I’m thinking the pregnancy hormones were making my system hold onto the weight.  I was 175 the next day but I’ve managed to get back that 174 this morning and hopefully hold onto it.  It isn’t easy as we’re at the start of the hubby’s annual training 2.5 week leave so doing both drop off AND pick up doesn’t leave much “workout” time.  Still, I’m managing.  I think that if it isn’t raining today after getting the kids I’m gonna try to hook up the bike cart to my bike and bring the kids out to a park a small ride away from the house.

I’m a little creeped out by my fat percent scale at home.  It is registering WAY high right now.  It was always high but for some reason it has me sitting near 40% body fat right now.  I’m not sure how I can be 40% body fat at 174 pounds.  That would mean 70 pounds of me is fat – I don’t think so.

Actually, most of my pre-pregnancy clothing is fitting me at this point.  (Michelle, I’ve got your maternity stuff all packed up for you! LOL!  I finally gave up even the jeans!)  I’ve still got a much pouchier tummy but that may not change without external help.

SO – now is the decision time.  Do I want to do it again or not?  Now is the time because if I DON’T do it again, I can actually start pursuing my tummy tuck dream.  If I do though, for obvious reasons, I don’t want to get any surgery done now.  I’m SOOO majorly conflicted.  It was much easier when I had the weight to lose again preventing me from being able to do anything anyway.    I was kinda hoping that by the time I was back down in weight, either P and J would’ve told me for sure sibling or no, or the PERFECT IPS that I just couldn’t say no to would’ve tracked me down out of the blue.

As for the boys – the last I heard they are about 15 pounds each now and starting to smile!  It sounds like they are sleeping better as well.  I’m happy for the guys.  Hopefully parenthood can settle down a bit for them now.

Attempting a Run

Happy birthday today to my big 3 year old, Asher!

I was running late today.  As such, I thought today would be the perfect day to do a short workout and to run instead of ellip.  Since I have worked out every day for the past 6 days, my mind kinda set up a block against wanting to workout again today, the 7th day.  I try to get at least 1 day in a week to rest but it is hard to allow that and not want more days off.  Balance is not easy. (As Tara from The Biggest Loser would know because does anyone else think she answered that question about balance at the finale with gibberish?  Of course, I’d have said “Are you kidding me?  You don’t mess with ‘balance’ when you are training to win TBL.  I worked my ass off and then worked some more and forgot what all possibility of normal life even looked like.  There’s time for balance after I win.”)  Since I am not on the line to stand on a scale in front of a live national audience, I do actually want balance.  So I walked into the gym with a strong voice telling me to not push it.

So I was just going to run a mile.  I started walking and got up to a 5.5 MPH run before my heel started to hurt.  DAMN.  It didn’t hurt a lot, but since I’d like it to heal and not hurt forever I slowed it back down again.  I was stuck at 4.3 MPH and I couldn’t run much faster or my heel would hurt – I think because then I’d have to take wider steps and the kicking my foot out in front of me was pulling on that tendon.  That means at least 3 more weeks of not seriously running and I was really upset with that.  Well, I still am but I was down right mad there in the gym.  It also means that I probably injured it in the first place that time I tried running a couple weeks back.

After two days at 177, I was really hoping for a 176 today.  We stopped at Cold Stone last night to pick out the cakes for Jessie and Asher’s birthdays  (I was going to do ONE cake and split the decorations in half  but I couldn’t really visualize a half  Spider Man half ballerina cake so I just got two small round cakes.) and everyone but me got to pick out some ice cream to eat while there.  I got their fancy health-kick frozen yogurt thing they were advertising instead of the double chocolate peanut butter thing I wanted to get.  I came home and ate green pepper slices and string beans instead of the treats I wanted to get.  Over lunch yesterday I did NOT go eat at the restaurant for the free ‘going away’ lunch for a co-worker and instead ate my raw fruits and vegies in my bag from home.  I was going to get 176 on Friday no matter what it cost me!!!

I got 178 today.  At least I’m wearing a pair of jeans from pre-pregnancy that I haven’t worn since I was only a few weeks into the twin’s gestation.  I’m wearing a nice loose shirt so no one can see the hideous muffin top effect that these jeans are having but that is not important.  The important part is that they are buttoned and zipped and I am able to sit down with only slight blood flow restriction issues to my lower half.

Achilles’ heel

Apparently, I have one.  Not so much in that I was shot by a poison arrow in my heel and am thus in the process of dying.  Also not so much in that I have a specific weak spot in my otherwise superhero-like flawless strength of both person and character.  No, that remains, as such, flawless.  My Achilles’ heel is, in fact, my achilles heel.  Literally.  My achilles tendon is suffering from a form of tendinitis that my podiatrist doctor flatteringly referred to as “something that normally only hits people over 50… I’m not sure why it is getting YOU.”  Thanks.  After that he muttered something about pregnancy hormones which I’m certain have the tendency to mimic ‘over 50′ in everyone so I’ll accept that as a perfectly good explanation.  I first noticed this pain while I was doing my hamstring stretches after a workout and thus whenever I forgot that it hurt like Holy Fucking Hell to hold my leg out straight and flex my foot upwards, I would do so and yes, it would hurt.  I first saw a neurologist thinking it was nerve related as the actual area on my heel or anywhere else didn’t hurt or feel tender, only the movement caused shooting pain.  The neurologist was so shocked to hear that it only hurt to flex my foot upwards when my leg was straight and not while it was bent that he insisted on pulling my leg out straight and flexing my foot. Then getting kicked in the face because DAMMIT, I TOLD HIM, OW!**  He told me that he had no idea what it could possibly be and to make another appointment in 3 weeks to see if it goes away on its own.  As I left I distinctly heard him mutter ‘freak’ out of the corner of his mouth but he could’ve been talking about anyone really.** 

Later that day I called a podiatrist thinking that another specialty might have the answer and he seemed to agree and invited me in for an appointment.  It seems that my achilles tendon attaches up above the back of my knee and thus when my leg is straight, it is tighter than when it is bent.  When it is straight AND I flex my foot upwards, it is tight enough to feel like it is ripping fiber by painful fiber off of the back corner of my heel.  His answer?  Don’t do that.  There was ice mentioned but I’m not likely to take the time to sit and ice my heel so basically I need to not do the things that hurt and it should get better on its own.  This would be a lot easier if I didn’t keep forgetting that the things that hurt really DO hurt and then doing them.  Mostly my hamstring stretches and moving my leg/foot around when I’m in bed.

Thankfully, I don’t have to stop my workouts as I’m finally starting to get my old abilities back.  I’m able to do the 30 minute elliptical at lvl 10 and ~5.5 MPH so that has me feeling pretty happy.  I FINALLY got to 177 this morning which is totally suckily slow but hey, it is DOWN so I’ll take it.  I’d prefer 2 pounds per week and not 1 pound per 2 weeks but it seems my system isn’t ready to snap back to <25 BMI as quickly as I would like it to.  I keep saying I need to try running for real one of these workouts but I haven’t.

I’d like to leave you with a little story that is, sadly, real.  I was driving my two angelic youngest children home from daycare one day.  They were both talking about what they’d like to get for their birthdays.  Jessie said she wants a big new barbie car and Asher said HE wants a big new barbie car too.  Jessie told him he needed a BOY barbie car and I asked Jessie what made a boy barbie car for boys.  The answer from the psychotic whack job in the back seat?  “BOY barbie cars have pictures of GUNS on them.  And Boys.  And boys holding GUNS shooting Barbie.”  NICE Jessie.  So I asked her what girl barbie cars had.  “Girl barbie cars have pictures of Barbie holding guns shooting BOYS, Mom.”  (Total eye-roll sass included.)  I thus tortured her with my speech about solving problems without guns and fighting and how making up shit in your blog about them is a much better way to get revenge.  Now she is asking for a WordPress account for her birthday.**

 

**These 3 sentences are not actually true.

Slowly, very slowly

I know – not many blogs.  Sorry about that. 

I don’t have time for a long post now either.  Just wanted to post that I’m wearing a pair of my old pre-pregnancy size 12s today!  I was wearing a pair yesterday and the day before as well.  Yay me!  Granted, they are tight – but nothing is ripping as I move so that’s good.  The funny thing is that they are all really tight over my belly.  My waist in general used to be the area that all my pants were loose on.  I am glad as it means there are still some effects of the pregnancy lingering around – having something other than me to blame tight pants on is always a plus!  I also FINALLY got 178 this morning so I’m pretty excited.  What are the odds that I can make 177 by Friday?

I can feel my strength coming back, albeit slowly.  At my 6 week PP appointment they drew another hemoglobin blood test and I came back with a roaring 8.2.  Ya, that’s a bit on the low end.  I can manage to keep my elliptical speed up to 4.5 – 5.5 more often than not at level 9 now though so it is coming back.  At the gym this past weekend I brought all three kids to the kids’ play place.  This was the first time I’ve ventured back with Asher for well over a year.  He did great!!  No crying or anything.  Jessie had fun as well.  I did get paged back to the childcare area about 20 minutes into my workout because Asher had a potty accident even though I TOLD them as I was walking out to remind him and bring him to the bathroom as it was a new and exciting place and him would probably forget.  It actually sounds from Jessie and Gavin that he was up inside the tunnels and couldn’t find his way out and was scared and calling for help.  OMG I hate their childcare quality.  When I was paged I was walking back from the elliptical and being very angry that OF COURSE they wouldn’t be able to deal with all three for a full 30 minute workout.  Hearing it was just a potty accident was good though because I could run out to the car and get his extra clothes and keep working out.  Since I only had 10 minutes left I decided to try out running for the first time.

Running:  I  AM  S L O W!

I finished off 10 minutes at 4.5 MPH.  That is frightening.  It was hard even and as much as I wanted to keep going and get in at least 1 mile for my first run I would’ve been on that treadmill for way too long.  Then I was sore.  Very sore.  Thankfully, not specifically my knees although they were sore too.  I need to keep stretching, especially that left leg, and I do need to get new shoes if I’m going to run more.  I don’t think it matters on the elliptical but the shoes I’m using were purchased in fall of 2007.

Yep, it is slow, but normal is creeping back up on me.

The way things are, and, walrus butt

AHHHHHHHH!

Melt off… HA!  Now past the official ‘6 weeks’ time frame where I actually am medically allowed to restart my workouts, I’m still sitting in the 180ish area.  I thought I’d get a nice head start by picking it up a couple weeks early but apparently not.  I’m extremely irritated but there’s not much that I can do other than keep trying.  Clearly I’ll have to dedicate myself better to my workouts and modify what I’m eating a bit.  The end of this month will bring me to 11 days in the gym for April thanks to both my late start and the missed weekends (and a few week days even).  That also is a good reason for not getting well into the 170s like I had hoped but more importantly, it means I missed the cutoff to have my insurance cover my gym dues by ONE DAY.  Yuck.

My 6 week appointment went well – if you count TOTALLY spacing on the whole point of why I even scheduled the appointment as ‘well’.  I could’ve kicked myself when I got home but I’m not that flexible.  See, my left knee is messed up.  I can’t kneel on it because it shoots pain as if there is a grain of sand sitting under my kneecap.  I can even feel the electric nerves shooting as I shave my legs past that spot on my knee.  I can make the whole thing tingle just by pushing on my kneecap – which is oddly way more fun than it probably should be.  Anyway, it happened as the swelling from the pregnancy went down and while I highly doubt my OB would have any clue what it was, I was hoping he’d send me in the direction of a specialist that would.  He might have, if I had brought it up.  Instead I spent the appointment making small talk while checking off the apparently overdue papsmear from my chart.

I did mention that my incision had gotten some more red spots and that I thought perhaps it was hair growth issues.  The only problem with that was that by the Friday that I went in, those spots had pretty much healed themselves and I pretty much just looked like an idiot saying anything about it when everything right then and there looked fine.  My very kind OB looked extremely uncomfortable as he suggested that if it was bothering me I could pack some gauze over it as especially as the weather got warmer the area could be getting irritated.  His discomfort was justified as it is probably not every day that a guy would try to get away with telling a postpartum woman that her belly looks like a walrus butt and the fact that it is hanging there could be irritating the underside of the skin.  Thankfully that is not the issue (the irritation, not the walrus part, that’s still true) but I don’t blame him for trying to come up with something to placate me since my real issue must’ve sounded pretty left field for him as there was no longer any redness where I was claiming it to be.

If you missed going out with me on Friday night, rest assured that there was only a very small party because only one friend was able to make it out for the night.  We opted to not actually go out afterall as she had a little one and it was just the two of us.  Instead I went over to their place and got to see aborable little Evan (http://morrisonbaby.wordpress.com) and play some Rock Band with her and her husband.  Thank you Jeanette for a very fun night!  I’m still looking to put something together though – I’m thinking a night when we can maybe meet up at a coffee place with some games and play and chat there.

As for the boys – it’s been awhile since I’ve heard much (ahem, guys, pictures?  As if you’re busy or something over there…) but what I did hear last was that they were well over 8 pounds back on the 17th.  At that rate, it is possible that they were over 9 pounds by their due date and, um, it is a good thing I wasn’t still pregnant with them!  I also can’t tell who is who in the pictures that J sent a few weeks ago as they are getting closer in weight.   J said their temperament is still very different so in person it is still much easier to tell.

My hunt for a new intended parent to carry for has not had any finds as of yet.  I’m learning that it is very difficult to really get the word out as even with good friends it is hard to go up to them and say “Hey, any fertility problems that you haven’t felt the urge to share with me?”  I haven’t been hit yet either so the people that I have mentioned anything to must not have been terrifbly offended, or the fake glasses I was wearing hoping no one would whack a 4-eyes worked.

On Thursday this week we have the orientation to PACT for our kids.  Yep, our kids, as in both.  Gavin got into PACT as well.  (There were 9 open spots and 8 siblings on the list of 200 kids wanting to get into 5th grade so as a ’sibling’ now it turned out to have been a sure thing.)  I had a difficult choice to make with his acceptance.  Put him into yet ANOTHER new school for the 2nd year in a row and hope that the smaller school and consistancy all the way to 12th grade would make for a better school for him or leave him in the school he is in now to not shake him all up again.  Even though as people I’ve really liked the teachers he has had at his current school, the school as a whole drives me a bit insane.  I’m not really sure why as other than the nurse they’ve all been very nice to me.  I think the principal is actually afraid of me as she goes way out of her way to sooth anything she can.  I get the distinct impression I’m being dealt with as something extremely flamable – which in the case with Gavin and his school is probably a pretty accurate assessment.  Any ‘good school’ thoughts you can send towards having a great orientation with the kids would be greatly appriciated.  I’m really hoping Gavin makes a friend with some of the other new kids that will be there.

blog-keeping

Just some general blog stuff – I’ve added a couple of blogs on the right, Jen, Cyn, and antropologa.  I also updated Sara’s blog link.

Now I have to go get lunch because I am cash-less and they don’t take credit cards in the cafeteria here.

Below the yellow line

The biggest loser, I am not.  Not even close.  My first week of being back at the gym and I’ve lost a total of 1 pound.   Honestly, I’m happy with even that because most of this week I’ve been actually over my ‘181′ starting weight for the week.  The assumption, of course, is that it has something to do with my body adjusting to working out again and the stress of the workouts.  I know my feet regained a good amount of their swelling that lasted until Monday even though I didn’t make it into the gym on Sat or Sun.  Hopefully things are adjusting back now though.  I know one thing, I’m a wuss in the gym now!  Wow does that elliptical take it out of me, and I’m just on level 9.  I can’t even imagine level 14 like I was using.  I was looking forward to hitting some runs this summer but it may take longer to get the endurance back up than I had thought.

It’s a short post today.  Sorry – I’m not feeling the greatest.  I’ve got my 6 week postpartum appointment coming up on Friday (my due date) and I’m hoping something can be done about the fact that my incision is not healing well at all.  I’m pretty sure that once it stops hurting, it isn’t supposed to re-start.  It should probably also not be quite so red.  Yay for csections, huh?

That said, Friday is my due date and I would really like to get out and have some fun that night.  The alternative, I think, would be to sit at home by myself and be somewhat depressed and lonely so getting out would be good.  Why depressed and lonely?  Because it is significantly less exciting to NOT be the center of attention for everyone when you are approaching your due date.  Especially the exciting part when you are actually in the hospital giving birth.  Instead I will be at home thinking, holy crap this is boring.  I don’t want that.  SO – who is up for a fun night out???  I’m open to suggestions for places too but yes, Jen, alcohol is allowed. LOL!  You have heard that I’m not pregnant anymore, right?  (Clarification that I am speaking to the Jen that I knew in college and commented on my facebook status, not the blogging Jen that I’ve recently gotten to know, although that Jen is certainly invited as well.)

After Friday… I may actually take down the pregnancy ticker.  Maybe.

My family

We had this picture taken about a year ago.  It took awhile, but I got the digital copy to post up here finally!    Kris and I got married out at the ren fest with everyone in full costume.  We go out generally once each year when it opens in late summer and of course, we all have fun.

This studio is a lot of fun to work with.  After they take the pictures they paint over them a bit.  Kinda spendy, but this family shot was partially paid for because Jessie won the kid’s photo contest the year before with her individual picture.  (And that picture was used as an ad for the studio at a local mall for a bit!)  If you’re interested, look them up.  Radamacher Studio in Prior Lake, MN.

What does it take to be a friend?

Message from my fat cells received loud and clear:  Get down to the 150s once, good for you.  Down to the 150s twice?  We’ll just see!

Yesterday I hit the elliptical for 30 minutes on my way home from work and then this morning I walked another 30 minutes at 3.5 MPH.  It’s kinda a toss up for which one is more ‘taking it easy’ for the whole csection thing as the elliptical is more ‘work’, but the walking is more jarring for my body.   I know I won’t be running any time in the next couple of weeks due to the surgery but even if I hadn’t had that I think I’d put it off until I’ve got my legs a bit more flexible.  The actual incision is starting to bug me again, which is annoying.  More annoying?  The 182 that I got on the scale this morning.  Um, wrong direction, dumb scale.

I’m going to approach a topic that I’ve been avoiding on my blog due to the audience of this blog.  In not wanting to offend anyone, I’ve not said anything about this.  The thing is, it is entirely focused on me and not anything anyone has said or done specifically (well, at least, not anything that anyone has said or done that was offensive or wrong.)  The other thing is, it is a HUGE part of surrogacy from what I’ve heard so it deserves some mention.  I will try to keep it brief though as I think I could write a lot on this.

A part of the matching process asks both intended parents and surrogate what their expectations are regarding contact after birth.  At least, in a well formed match it should be.  This is one point that initially P, J, and I did not actually agree on.  They wanted little more than shared photos from time to time (according to the match sheet) and I was looking for, well, more.  I was looking for a match with someone that I’d become friends with.  A family that would welcome me in as a person, not as a person contracted to deliver a service.  When I read this on the match sheet I contacted the agency and said I didn’t think it would work out.

Now, after having spent some time in the internet world of surrogacy, I’ve learned that this is honestly the biggest issue that I’ve seen between IPs and surros.  The vast majority that I’ve seen have, in fact, formed great bonds of friendship that last well into the years after the children have been born.  I’ve been told my exposure has been a bit off from reality as most drift apart, mostly due to geographical distances.  I have, however, seen a lot of pain and heartache from the other side too.  Women that were told there would be a lot of contact, women that grew to love the IPs, and were then never spoken to again as soon or very soon after the pregnancy was over.  The thing is, even with all the things you can contract about, you simply can’t contract about that.  Even if everyone is being totally honest (with each other as well as themselves) it is impossible to know how you will actually feel when it is all said and done.  Minds and feelings can change.  It is the big scary unknown that you take on when you do a surrogacy with someone you did not know at all before matching.  For that matter, I would guess it is something that is unknown even if you are close friends before the matching because, like I said, no one really knows how they will react at the end.

In my specific situation, the agency really wanted our match to work out so they spoke with P and J about my concerns and ‘cleared up’ the meaning for all of us regarding contact after.  As the agency explained it, there was a misunderstanding regarding ‘contact’ and the concept of wanting to rather co-parent (aka open adoption type relationship) vs continued friendship.  My IFs confirmed that they were completely open to a maintained friendship type of relationship, they were just worried about the surrogate wanting to participate in raising their child(ren).  Everyone happy again, we matched and here we are.  (I have my hands full with my own children and while holding scrunchie babies and possibly feeding a bottle from time to time greatly appeals to me, I have no desire at all for the responsibility of giving enough attention to someone else’s children that they, the children, would consider me a stable part of their lives.)

Now, as I said in the beginning, P and J have not actually done ANYTHING to make me think that they don’t intend to, indeed, want to, follow through with that.  I have, however, in my mind been struck by the vulnerability that a surrogate enters once the pregnancy is over.  I have nothing for them at this point.  I’m not even delivering milk as some surros do so the value of my friendship at this point is resting on nothing more than the sparkling quality of my personality.  Certainly it is not bound by something as solid and unyielding as ‘your children are growing inside my body.’  While I try to put forth a confident front, I’m never all that confident about my value as a friend.  Honestly, I’m actually a kinda bad friend in that I get very absorbed into my own life and don’t pay nearly enough attention to the others in my life just for the sake of paying attention to them.   Generally in my life, things like changing jobs means never seeing those I used to spend every day with and share all ups and downs of life with, again.  I’ve never mastered the art of holding a close friendship through years of not having a specific reason to see someone each day.  As such, I’m always extraordinarily thankful for those friends that I do still have from college because I’m pretty sure that it is them doing most of the work and then forgiving me for dropping the ball when I do.

This whole history adds together to make one very awkward me.  Not only am I coming at this with a nagging worry that P and J initially SAID they didn’t want contact after and that some surros do, indeed, encounter IPs that are simply not comfortable having a lasting reminder in their lives that their children grew in someone else’s womb, but I don’t have the skills that are required anyway in holding together a long term friendship.  Truth be told, this is important to me so I’m really struggling in learning those skills.  I have a suspicion that there is a difference between contacting someone often enough to stay in touch and actually stalking them.  It is a bit like climbing mount Everest for me as the whole ‘don’t scare the new parents’ and ‘give them time to be a family’ and all that make for something that would be complicated even for someone with the sophistication to handle normal social situations.  Me?  Toddler birthday parties put me on edge.  I’m hoping that over time things will fall into a natural rhythm – and that it happens before P and J decide I’m just a tiny bit too pushy (whatever) and start screening all their calls.  In the meantime, I find myself  calling and leaving messages in the spirit of Monica from Friends: “This is me, Robyn, just being breezy!”  And yes, the dorkiness kinda makes me want to gag, just a little.

Don’t quit your day job

AKA, my life as a movie critic.

But first, something completely normal for my blog:

Happy 1 month little guys!

You know that first big step you take towards something new?  How you’re all fired up and looking forward to whatever it is?  I was so excited about my first day to get back to working out yesterday.  I was pretty sure it would change.  the.  world.  At least, my world.  Maybe I was thinking I’d go work out and, abracadabra, my old pants would fit.  I’m not sure.  I do know that I was thinking my weight check this morning would reward my trip into the gym.  Not so much.  181.  Still. 

And now for something completely different.

As I mentioned, I wanted to talk about the Watchmen movie.  It seems there is a philosophy that is part science, part theology, about the world and a watch.  Now, I looked this up and the formal argument is actually the opposite of the theory of evolution.  That something with ‘intelligent design’, such as a watch, must have had a maker.  Contrary to common misconception, as a pagan I am not, in fact, an atheist and thus I have no problem with the concept of a watchmaker.  I happen to believe that it is not a given for how the world formed because I also believe complex things can just happen because they do, not because ’someone’ wanted them to.  Anyway, this gets away from the actual point.  The philosophy out there correlates the world to a complex design and states that there must be a watchmaker to have created it.  If you can re-make this watch, you can become for humanity purposes, god.  René Descartes worked at something akin to breaking down humanity into those watch parts so that it could be put back together just right. 

If you put the watch together, then you get to define humanity.  You get to define what is right and what is wrong and indeed, what makes right right and wrong wrong.  These ‘Watchmen’ were, to that extent, the watch creators.  So here you have a bunch of superheros and the world thinks ’superman, save us’ but the reality of a superhero is that it is not possible for anyone to be always morally right all the time.  It is not even possible for everyone to agree on what is morally right all the time.  So what if the ‘villian’ is right?  What if the person that defines ‘morality’ differently than you has a better result?  To link this to my previous post, think about the way the population seems so worked up over homosexuality.  What makes ‘right’ ‘right’?  Who gets to decide?

So that was just one part of the movie.  Another part, if you DO get to decide and you are all powerful and basically a god yourself, what happens to your wants and desires?  Would you even care about the world and humanity if you were so far removed from the same constraints of day to day life?  How is your ability to decide on right vs wrong possibly clouded because it doesn’t matter so much to you.  This goes along the lines of ‘power corrupts’ but it isn’t corruption so much as apathy.  Then again, everyone is different and who is to say that the individual that happens to be the one bestowed with this power for whatever reason (Dr Manhattan due to accident, the smartest man in the world due to, I don’t know, genetics… the movie didn’t really say how or why the rest of the watchmen were ’super’) is going to react in any given way? 

Another part?  Humanity exposed, naked (and in full frontal on a regular basis although reality was a TAD suspended in Dr Manhattan’s endowment) and raw and gory.  Is it so very beautiful?  It can be.  The relations and the randomness that makes everyone who they are.  But it is also very very ugly.  How does someone take such raw materials that are so inherently and randomly flawed and beautiful at the same time, and make something that doesn’t self destruct itself?  How do you let humans make their own choices when their own choices can be so potentially wrong, and still get the desired outcome?  Can you even do it?  What if you do something that you THINK will help get the desired outcome but it doesn’t work and things get worse?

I know – it is just a movie.  I didn’t even read the graphic novel and I wasn’t even all that excited to see the movie.  Kris wanted to see it and it was starting at the right time when we went to the theatre so we just saw it.  My first comment to him when he suggested it was that the superhero guy looks like a cow.   When I read reviews of the movie though that comment on the fight scenes being poorly done or that the plot is weak I want to shake that person and say that if you didn’t get it, sorry for you, but the depth was there for the taking if your brain wanted to make the plunge.  Walking away though, your mind is left chewing on this huge question of philosophy, theology, science, math, politics, randomness, beauty and human nature.  At the end of  it all I keep coming back to thinking “what makes right right?”  I cannot answer that any other way than to say that we just have to go by how it feels as an individual choice and hope for the best.  Keep your mind open, be willing to consider a full world where the other person’s concepts are reality, and see where that takes you.  We are, after all, only human, right?