Movies I Hate

This last weekend, I found a strange bug on the sliding door on the inside.  It was pale, had a design on its back, and a very small head.  I wondered if it was a tick, as I had only seen one once before.  Jon came and looked and said it might be, but he had never seen one that wasn't brown.  Uncharacteristically of him with bugs, he put his finger toward the bug.  It responded by sticking out a long needle like tongue as his finger got close.  It seemed like it was a long as its body! It stuck like a barb for a second to the tip of his finger.  Whoa!  It was horrifying!  Jon said he hoped he would not have nightmares about it.  We picked it up with a tissue, flushed it down the toilet, and then did research about what to do about ticks.  Because, for certain, Nathan is going to get one eventually.  Creepy little things.


But that's not what has been bothering me the last two nights.  It's this movie that I would highly NOT recommend, called The Road.  I knew when I saw the preview that I didn't want to see it, but Jon got it from the Redbox, and was watching it.  I should have walked away when at the beginning it said the earth was dying, no vegetation or animals were alive anymore, and the days were getting grayer and colder.  People were soulless, cannibals, and hopeless.  I watched for 40 minutes, then went to bed unable to fight the cloud of sheer hopelessness.  Jon stopped the movie and came to speak truth to me, which helped.  But the next day was depressing even though the sun shone.  I read my Bible, watched a happy movie, Leap Year (which is clean, by the way).  And the day slowly got better.  


I wanted to know the ending, even though I didn't want to see it, and I'm glad I didn't.  It ended like I thought - death, although there was apparently a spark of hope, although still certain starvation.  I also read that it was based on an award-winning book that was also on the Oprah's Book Club list, and that made me want to vent, hence this blog post.  


Why would I want to watch or read such crap?  I've noticed this before with a few other Oprah books - the worst traits of humanity displayed in a pointless parade of despicable behavior.  THIS is exactly why I prefer children's literature.  Children's books will sometimes deal with difficult topics, but find resolution, beauty, and life in the end.  


This joins a list of movies that bother me, sometimes for weeks: I Am Legend, The Happening, Carriers.  I need to avoid apocalyptic movies, or ones with worldwide disease.  I could psychoanalyze this, or theologically analyze this - but I think I won't.  There are enough bad things (like creepy ticks), in the world.  I don't need to watch them on the screen.

Waa-Aaa!

Nathan woke up at 4:30 this morning.  He wanted to nurse and go back to sleep.  However, when the whole cry-it-out sleep-through-the-night thing was established I made 5 in the morning the earliest I would nurse.  If he woke up before then, he stayed in the crib and got a sippy cup of water.  Most nights he wakes up at around 5 or 5:30.  But then he goes through cycles of waking up a little earlier and a little earlier.  I know he can't tell time, but his body's internal clock is testing my resolve.

So I let him cry, offered him the sippy cup, and he laid down in deep disappointment when I didn't pick him up.  He was falling asleep, when I crept toward the door.  Our floor upstairs has some terrible creeks!  He woke up full blast mad as I slipped through the doorway.  I let him cry for awhile and repeated this process.  I know that he didn't actually need anything.  So at 5:30, I finally nursed him, and he was out like a light.  And up for good at 6:30.

And he has been so clingy!  The last week or so, he has cried these long loud cries if I am not holding him (while standing).  So he's been crying quite a bit, because I won't and can't hold him that much.  And by the time Jon comes home, and Nathan is crying on my leg as I cook dinner, I'm ready to climb walls!  When Jon walked in the door yesterday, Nathan quit crying, crawled over to him and Jon picked him up.  He was as pleasant and happy as could be so Jon couldn't understand what I meant by him "crying all afternoon."

Teething?  Who knows.  That always seems to be the question, but rarely turns out to be the cause.  Okay, and appropriately, he is crying at my knee as I type this wanting me.  Got to go.