When you are a child, you are often very selfish. You think about yourself and you are concerned about yourself. If you are a rare kid, you wonder about the health of your parents and your family and your friends. But most kids are concerned with themselves. They don't worry about money, they don't worry about how food appears in the fridge.
As you grow older, you start to worry about more of the people in your life. You might find yourself fretting over the health of your parents or how they are going to afford to send you to that summer camp that you want. You're still pretty selfish, and your view of the world is fairly narrow.
As a young adult, most people begin to worry about the greater world around them. They might weep over starving children in Africa. Or worse, starving children in the United States. They might worry about the health of their family and friends. They worry about money, now that they have to earn their own. Once you get married, you add another person to worry about. You wonder if they'll get sick or get injured or die and leave you alone.
And then, you have kids. And your world goes all topsy-turvey, upside down. I worry about my extended family, but it's kind of a peripheral concern. I worry about my husband leaving me and my son, because we love him, and we'd be lost without him. I worry about dying and leaving my child and my husband all alone. But more than anything, the idea of my child getting sick or hurt or, god forbid, dying sends me into a full-blown panic moment. In just over a year, he has become the center of my universe.
Everything else, all of the social issues that I used to rant about, all the things that used to be so important to me...just...aren't. I know that 'they' say that parents should keep their hobbies, and I do still have them, but Roland is always going to come first. I'm not going to hare off to a convention on a whim and $50 in my pocket, with a prayer that I can figure out how to pay rent when I get home. I'm not going to up and quit a job just 'cause I don't like it anymore and I want something different. My priorities have all changed and my prescriptive on life has all changed.
But I think that it's a good change, and I welcome it with open arms. Parenthood isn't for everyone, and I respect that choice. But it has made me a better person and it has made me feel like a more complete person. For all the stress and the tears and the anxiety, this journey has been absolutely worth it.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Momma Bear Rage
Ok. I think we all know that I'm pretty liberal on a lot of different topics.
I read an article today on Mr. Conservative that a friend had posted. Nasty, Weird and Sexist Liberal Cracks about Women. I was pretty upset about some of them, to be entirely honest.
I should put it out there that people on both sides of the coin say some pretty horrible things. There are hardcore liberals and hardcore conservatives that are cruel and completely out of line in the things that they say. This is not confined to just one side, and there are days where I am ashamed of humanity...didn't these peoples parents teach them better than this?
The one that really got to me was a quote by Larry Flynt, talking about Sarah Palin.
“(Palin) did a disservice to every woman in America. She knew from the first month of pregnancy that kid was going to be Down’s Syndrome. It’s brain dead. A virtual vegetable. She carries it to all these different political events against abortion, she did it just because she didn’t want to say she’d had an abortion. How long is it going to live? Another 12, 15 years? Doesn’t even know it’s in this world. So what kind of compassionate conservative is she? I don’t think anybody will want her near the White House.” — Larry Flyn
I don't like Sarah Palin. I don't agree with her politics and every time I've seen an interview with her, she annoys the hell out of me. I just...don't like her. But it's her politics that I don't like. This goes way, way beyond that and way beyond acceptable.
First, let's look at the fact that no one knows in the first month of pregnancy that their child will have Down's Syndrome. Yes, maternal age is a factor, but it's not the only one. There is no way of knowing about the disability until later on in the pregnancy. Some tests can be run between 11 and 13 weeks, but definitive results often come later than that.
Second, children with Down's Syndrome oftentimes live full and happy lives. They can regularly live into their 50's and 60's. Trig is a little boy. He's not an 'it' and he's not brain dead and he's not a vegetable. He is a sweet little boy who just happens to have an extra chromosome. Unfortunately, he's got a famous political family.
Larry Flynt is an asshole. That's a horrible thing to say. You know what, I'm sure he'd never say that about someone else's child. He wouldn't go up to a mother on the street with her child with Down's Syndrome and say, 'Hey! How old is it? You know it's not going to live to be an adult, right?' You know why? Because that is a horrible thing to say to a parent and is likely to get you kicked or stabbed. He said it because he hates Palin because they are on different sides of the political spectrum.
That is not ok. I don't care who you are or what your politics are or how much they may differ, it is not ok to attack someone on a personal level when you disagree with their politics. Is Palin so politically perfect that you can't find something about her policies and her political beliefs that you can disagree with and attack? Are you so pathetic that you have to resort to attacking her family--not just her family, her very young, disabled son?
Once again, I don't like Sarah Palin. I would never vote for her, and politically I think she's pretty terrible. But as a mother, I respect the hell out of her and her husband. They made the decision to keep their son despite his disability. Down's Syndrome is not easy to live with. The degree of disability varies wildly from children who are able to function at normal levels to children who are never able to talk or walk. No one knows how severe it will be, and it's a lot more than the 18 years that most parents sign up for with their children. I can't even imagine how hard it would be...or how fulfilling.
And her family made the choice to keep the baby. Many don't. There are many people who abort fetuses with Down's Syndrome. I may not respect the woman when it comes to politics, but as a mother, I understand. I spent much of my pregnancy with Roland worrying about something going wrong. I wouldn't have loved him any less, though. But still, this is a hard decision to make.
What Larry Flynt probably doesn't bother to think about is the fact that any parent who receives this diagnosis spends hours agonizing over the decision. The internet is full of information and it's easy to find out all about the disability that your child will be born with--the good and the bad. Parents know that their child has a shortened life span. They understand the possibility that their child may never be like a 'normal' baby. You really think they don't get that? Hell, Flynt has kids of his own...you think he'd understand.
This is disgusting, people. This shit has to stop. Attack the politics. Attack the policies. Hell, attack the personality. Stop attacking the family. This goes for the First Lady, Sasha and Malia, AND the Palin kids. Don't call Bristol a whore, don't call Trig a vegetable. It's not hard.
As a mother--hell, as a human being--I am horrified that we treat one another this way. I know that when you sign up for politics you are signing up for a certain level of scrutiny. The same applies for your family. And it's expected that there will be a certain level of questioning and scrutiny and maybe even a few casual jokes flying around. But this is unacceptable.
In 20 years, Trig Palin is going to read this shit online. He's going to see things that were said about him and his family, and he's going to understand these things. And you should be ashamed of yourself.
See this? This is a sweet little boy who loves his daddy, who has a disability but isn't defined by it, who has a beautiful smile and is very obviously not a vegetable. This is pulled off Sarah Palin's official facebook page.
I read an article today on Mr. Conservative that a friend had posted. Nasty, Weird and Sexist Liberal Cracks about Women. I was pretty upset about some of them, to be entirely honest.
I should put it out there that people on both sides of the coin say some pretty horrible things. There are hardcore liberals and hardcore conservatives that are cruel and completely out of line in the things that they say. This is not confined to just one side, and there are days where I am ashamed of humanity...didn't these peoples parents teach them better than this?
The one that really got to me was a quote by Larry Flynt, talking about Sarah Palin.
“(Palin) did a disservice to every woman in America. She knew from the first month of pregnancy that kid was going to be Down’s Syndrome. It’s brain dead. A virtual vegetable. She carries it to all these different political events against abortion, she did it just because she didn’t want to say she’d had an abortion. How long is it going to live? Another 12, 15 years? Doesn’t even know it’s in this world. So what kind of compassionate conservative is she? I don’t think anybody will want her near the White House.” — Larry Flyn
I don't like Sarah Palin. I don't agree with her politics and every time I've seen an interview with her, she annoys the hell out of me. I just...don't like her. But it's her politics that I don't like. This goes way, way beyond that and way beyond acceptable.
First, let's look at the fact that no one knows in the first month of pregnancy that their child will have Down's Syndrome. Yes, maternal age is a factor, but it's not the only one. There is no way of knowing about the disability until later on in the pregnancy. Some tests can be run between 11 and 13 weeks, but definitive results often come later than that.
Second, children with Down's Syndrome oftentimes live full and happy lives. They can regularly live into their 50's and 60's. Trig is a little boy. He's not an 'it' and he's not brain dead and he's not a vegetable. He is a sweet little boy who just happens to have an extra chromosome. Unfortunately, he's got a famous political family.
Larry Flynt is an asshole. That's a horrible thing to say. You know what, I'm sure he'd never say that about someone else's child. He wouldn't go up to a mother on the street with her child with Down's Syndrome and say, 'Hey! How old is it? You know it's not going to live to be an adult, right?' You know why? Because that is a horrible thing to say to a parent and is likely to get you kicked or stabbed. He said it because he hates Palin because they are on different sides of the political spectrum.
That is not ok. I don't care who you are or what your politics are or how much they may differ, it is not ok to attack someone on a personal level when you disagree with their politics. Is Palin so politically perfect that you can't find something about her policies and her political beliefs that you can disagree with and attack? Are you so pathetic that you have to resort to attacking her family--not just her family, her very young, disabled son?
Once again, I don't like Sarah Palin. I would never vote for her, and politically I think she's pretty terrible. But as a mother, I respect the hell out of her and her husband. They made the decision to keep their son despite his disability. Down's Syndrome is not easy to live with. The degree of disability varies wildly from children who are able to function at normal levels to children who are never able to talk or walk. No one knows how severe it will be, and it's a lot more than the 18 years that most parents sign up for with their children. I can't even imagine how hard it would be...or how fulfilling.
And her family made the choice to keep the baby. Many don't. There are many people who abort fetuses with Down's Syndrome. I may not respect the woman when it comes to politics, but as a mother, I understand. I spent much of my pregnancy with Roland worrying about something going wrong. I wouldn't have loved him any less, though. But still, this is a hard decision to make.
What Larry Flynt probably doesn't bother to think about is the fact that any parent who receives this diagnosis spends hours agonizing over the decision. The internet is full of information and it's easy to find out all about the disability that your child will be born with--the good and the bad. Parents know that their child has a shortened life span. They understand the possibility that their child may never be like a 'normal' baby. You really think they don't get that? Hell, Flynt has kids of his own...you think he'd understand.
This is disgusting, people. This shit has to stop. Attack the politics. Attack the policies. Hell, attack the personality. Stop attacking the family. This goes for the First Lady, Sasha and Malia, AND the Palin kids. Don't call Bristol a whore, don't call Trig a vegetable. It's not hard.
As a mother--hell, as a human being--I am horrified that we treat one another this way. I know that when you sign up for politics you are signing up for a certain level of scrutiny. The same applies for your family. And it's expected that there will be a certain level of questioning and scrutiny and maybe even a few casual jokes flying around. But this is unacceptable.
In 20 years, Trig Palin is going to read this shit online. He's going to see things that were said about him and his family, and he's going to understand these things. And you should be ashamed of yourself.
See this? This is a sweet little boy who loves his daddy, who has a disability but isn't defined by it, who has a beautiful smile and is very obviously not a vegetable. This is pulled off Sarah Palin's official facebook page.
So if you want to attack a politician, attack the politician. Leave their damn families out of it. This is not me defending Sarah Palin. This is me, as a mother, feeling an insane amount of Momma Bear rage for a sweet little boy who could be ANYONE'S little boy who is being cruelly mocked. You may not like the woman, and that is your right. But at the very least, she deserves your respect for making a difficult choice. It might not be the choice you made, but it was her choice.
Oh, and for the people who are pro-choice and are angry that she choose to keep Trig...isn't that the definition of choice? The Palin family made the CHOICE to keep the baby that they knew would have life long disabilities. Good for them. From that sweet picture, I think they probably made the right one.
The Day I counter-protested the WBC
In 2001, when I was a Freshman in college, I found myself in an interesting place. You see, I'm a painfully shy person, and 12 years ago it was even worse. I had a hard time meeting people. At my Freshman Orientation, I met Adrienne, who was one of my closest friends while I was living in Missoula. She was crazy and quirky and bouncy and totally geeky and we just kind of clicked. I think the fact that I was quiet and she was outspoken worked out well.
She's the one who first got me into gaming, but that's a completely different story that involves guys in cloaks and prowling campus late at night.
We weren't roommates the first semester, but it didn't take us long to make plans to change that after Christmas break. One of the things that Adrienne was involved in, and drug me to, was the Lambda association on campus. It was a little awkward for me at first, because I was the only straight girl there, and I got some flack from some of the other kids. The scoffing and unbelieving stare of, 'Well, you're straight, why are YOU here' was pretty hurtful at the time, but that's fine. I get it.
Anyway.
We received word that the WBC was going to be coming to Missoula to protest. They were 'celebrating' the anniversary of the death of Matthew Shepard and they picked UofM because the school supports their Lambda group fully. Ya know. Like you should.
Originally, they had planned on protesting ON campus. They attempted to reserve space on the quad. Unfortunately for them, policy states that campus groups have first dibs on space. So the entire campus was reserved for the day for the Lambda alliance, and the WBC was forced to hold their protest on the corner across from the law school.
The Lambda group furiously prepared for the event. I spent much of the week making signs (oh my god the GLITTER) and getting geared up. There was an air of excitement and an air of fear. For me, this was the first time I'd ever heard of the Westboro Baptist Church. I was nervous and excited and horrified at it all.
On a frosty cold morning, not quite a month after the 9-11 attacks, the Westboro Baptist Church came to attack us with their hateful words and fear mongering, and we attacked them back. We were there by five in the morning with hot cocoa and bundled up in scarves and hats and many layers. By the time we arrived, the counter protest area was flooded with people. Lambda kids, their friends and families, professors, ROTC kids, Forestry kids, local Missoulians and people who had traveled, just to offer us their support. We quickly handed out all of the signs and we waited for them.
There weren't very many of them, just a small handful, and Fred wasn't even there. I remember being shocked at their signs--I didn't understand how anyone could say that or believe that. To our credit, we were fairly peaceful (although there was apparently some eggs thrown--naughty!) There was laughter and tears and waving our lovely glittery signs in the air.
The Lesbian Brigade had been formed for this occasion A group of people doing various tricks and acts--we had people dressed like clowns and people doing handstands--paraded through our group, cheering the crowd. One of the news interviews with Shirley Roper-Phelps shows the Brigade parading behind her, and two of the girls pausing for a deep, intimate kiss. It was a stunning picture and I wish I could find it.
It was even better when we discovered that most of the girls weren't gay or bi-sexual. They were just supportive.
The protest was pretty pathetic, to be entirely honest. The signs were hurtful and the jeers were horrible, but we far, far outnumbered them. And while the WBC had nothing to offer us but hate and bigotry, our crowd was full of love and laughter and joy. There was a table full of cookies and muffins and cocoa and coffee, and everyone felt like a big family.
It was absolutely beautiful.
That was the beginning of a beautiful day for me at the University of Montana.
The country was still reeling from 9-11. I was still trying to process what had happened, myself. We were still healing. And on that frosty, beautiful fall day, we came together as a community in peace and tolerance. The day was spent with peace rallies and discussions and an overwhelming feeling of love. There was food and there was live music. There was a candlelit vigil in the library in honor of the victims of hate crimes.
It was the best day I had while I was in school that first year. Seeing everyone come together like that was nothing short of stunning. Seeing the community respond to the WBC with the ferocity they displayed was surprising, but wonderful. The reason that we were there that day was a frustrating and upsetting one, but the turn-out was better than anyone expected.
I can safely say that I think the WBC are horrible people. They do and say terrible, awful things, and I don't understand how they can sleep at night. It's easy to want to respond to them with hate and frustration and fists...unfortunately, that doesn't work. They feed off it. This reaction, this peaceful counter protest to show them how wrong they are, and how many more people we have, is the best thing.
She's the one who first got me into gaming, but that's a completely different story that involves guys in cloaks and prowling campus late at night.
We weren't roommates the first semester, but it didn't take us long to make plans to change that after Christmas break. One of the things that Adrienne was involved in, and drug me to, was the Lambda association on campus. It was a little awkward for me at first, because I was the only straight girl there, and I got some flack from some of the other kids. The scoffing and unbelieving stare of, 'Well, you're straight, why are YOU here' was pretty hurtful at the time, but that's fine. I get it.
Anyway.
We received word that the WBC was going to be coming to Missoula to protest. They were 'celebrating' the anniversary of the death of Matthew Shepard and they picked UofM because the school supports their Lambda group fully. Ya know. Like you should.
Originally, they had planned on protesting ON campus. They attempted to reserve space on the quad. Unfortunately for them, policy states that campus groups have first dibs on space. So the entire campus was reserved for the day for the Lambda alliance, and the WBC was forced to hold their protest on the corner across from the law school.
The Lambda group furiously prepared for the event. I spent much of the week making signs (oh my god the GLITTER) and getting geared up. There was an air of excitement and an air of fear. For me, this was the first time I'd ever heard of the Westboro Baptist Church. I was nervous and excited and horrified at it all.
On a frosty cold morning, not quite a month after the 9-11 attacks, the Westboro Baptist Church came to attack us with their hateful words and fear mongering, and we attacked them back. We were there by five in the morning with hot cocoa and bundled up in scarves and hats and many layers. By the time we arrived, the counter protest area was flooded with people. Lambda kids, their friends and families, professors, ROTC kids, Forestry kids, local Missoulians and people who had traveled, just to offer us their support. We quickly handed out all of the signs and we waited for them.
There weren't very many of them, just a small handful, and Fred wasn't even there. I remember being shocked at their signs--I didn't understand how anyone could say that or believe that. To our credit, we were fairly peaceful (although there was apparently some eggs thrown--naughty!) There was laughter and tears and waving our lovely glittery signs in the air.
The Lesbian Brigade had been formed for this occasion A group of people doing various tricks and acts--we had people dressed like clowns and people doing handstands--paraded through our group, cheering the crowd. One of the news interviews with Shirley Roper-Phelps shows the Brigade parading behind her, and two of the girls pausing for a deep, intimate kiss. It was a stunning picture and I wish I could find it.
It was even better when we discovered that most of the girls weren't gay or bi-sexual. They were just supportive.
The protest was pretty pathetic, to be entirely honest. The signs were hurtful and the jeers were horrible, but we far, far outnumbered them. And while the WBC had nothing to offer us but hate and bigotry, our crowd was full of love and laughter and joy. There was a table full of cookies and muffins and cocoa and coffee, and everyone felt like a big family.
It was absolutely beautiful.
That was the beginning of a beautiful day for me at the University of Montana.
The country was still reeling from 9-11. I was still trying to process what had happened, myself. We were still healing. And on that frosty, beautiful fall day, we came together as a community in peace and tolerance. The day was spent with peace rallies and discussions and an overwhelming feeling of love. There was food and there was live music. There was a candlelit vigil in the library in honor of the victims of hate crimes.
It was the best day I had while I was in school that first year. Seeing everyone come together like that was nothing short of stunning. Seeing the community respond to the WBC with the ferocity they displayed was surprising, but wonderful. The reason that we were there that day was a frustrating and upsetting one, but the turn-out was better than anyone expected.
I can safely say that I think the WBC are horrible people. They do and say terrible, awful things, and I don't understand how they can sleep at night. It's easy to want to respond to them with hate and frustration and fists...unfortunately, that doesn't work. They feed off it. This reaction, this peaceful counter protest to show them how wrong they are, and how many more people we have, is the best thing.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Kermit Gosnell
I've been hearing a lot about Kermit Gosnell over the last week or so. At first, I dismissed it all because the articles were all being shared from conservative websites and I didn't have the energy to take up that fight last week. Eventually, I delved into a few articles, and I've got to say that it's pretty horrifying.
I'll admit, America was a little distracted last week. Oh wait, the trial started on March 18th? And hardly anyone has heard about it? Well...crap.
Ok, before I go any further, I have to tell you that I am absolutely pro-choice. I in no way, shape, or form feel that abortions should be completely outlawed in this country. There are situations where the woman feels that she has no other choice--sometimes for monetary reasons, or emotional reasons--and there are situations where proceeding with a pregnancy would endanger the life of the mother, and then there are the heartbreaking situations where a fetus has severe defects that will eventually lead to the demise of the child. There are legitimate reasons, and I support women who make the difficult choice to terminate a pregnancy.
This is a completely different beast. I don't support this at all. Liberal or not, pro-choice or not...this is wrong. This is horrifying.
In Pennsylvania, the cut-off for late-term abortions is 24 weeks. First, I take issue with that. 24 weeks is a viable infant. I mean, that infant, if it survives, will likely have some disabilities. It will be an incredibly difficult road for the child, with only a 39% rate of survival. So no matter how pro-choice I am, I don't think that a healthy pregnancy should be terminated at 24 weeks. Really, you've gotten that far, keep going a few more weeks...if you get to 26 weeks? The baby has an 80% survival rate. 27 weeks is 90%. What's another month?
Of course, in the case of potential maternal demise, all bets are off. The same can be said if the child has a serious defect that will eventually lead to death. I know that some parents will make that incredibly difficult decision in hopes of sparing their child further pain.
This is the grand jury report. Fair warning--that includes some pretty gruesome stuff. There are horrifying pictures and descriptions. It's also very, very long. There were some points where I just had to stop reading. It's...pretty bad.
No matter how pro-choice I am, this entire situation has me feeling sick to my stomach. I've seen some people (mostly my heavily conservative friends) asking questions about why this guy hasn't received more media coverage. USA Today and The Atlantic have pieces on that. Why hasn't this been covered? Why hasn't there been more outrage over this? I mean, this guy murdered people, who knows how many. He murdered women who came to him for procedures and he murdered infants. I'm sorry, if a baby is capable of breathing on its own, that's murder.
I know it's a delicate case. The pro-choice crowd doesn't want this nut job to cast a negative light over abortions. The pro-life crowd wants to use it as a reason to outlaw abortion altogether. Both of them are missing the damn point. Just like with other terrible people that do terrible things, Gosnell is to blame in this. He's the one who made the choice to run his clinic in such a horrifying manner. He's the one who failed to provide adequate care to the women he saw. He's the one who brutally murdered infants that were viable by cutting the back of their necks. This has nothing to do with abortion being right or wrong--this has to do with a sick bastard.
I'm actually having a bit of a difficult time with dealing with this. I am frustrated with the media for not calling to attention to these atrocities and I don't understand why they would just sweep it under the rug. Some news organizations have blamed it on racism. Most of Gosnells patients were African American women, women in minorities, teenagers, women who were being forced into an abortion by family members, women who didn't speak English...he took advantage of these women, plain and simple. He took their fear and their ignorance and he used it against them to take their money.
Gosnell is a horrible person. He is a horrible person, and that is all there is to it.
Are there other clinics like this in the United States? I'm sure there are. I am absolutely certain that there are places where women and viable, healthy babies are dying.
Obviously, there needs to be a change.
If I were running the world, I would want to see birth control that was readily available to anyone who wanted it for a reasonable price. Preferably on a sliding scale. No one should be without it unless they want to be. I would like to see optional abortions limited to the first trimester. After that, they can only be obtained with medical referral in the case of maternal danger or fetal defect. Women should be educated on alternates, such as adoption, and offered assistance with medical bills if they choose to pursue adoption. Women should not be guilt tripped, or have to look at their baby on an ultrasound, or treated like they're whores or going to hell for making that choice.
I hope that Gosnell is found guilty on all counts. I hope they throw the book at him. He's a horrible man who has done horrible things. But he is NOT the face of abortion. And most people who are pro-choice? Are completely horrified by the things he did. I mean, there is nothing that he did that is good or right. There is nothing he did that I agree with.
It's a difficult story to read, and it's a painful situation for a lot of people, particularly for the women who have suffered at his hands. I hope that this leads to stricter regulations on abortion clinics, and clinics that are actually upheld to these standards. And more than anything, I hope that this isn't used as an example of what all abortions are like. I hope this doesn't make abortions even more difficult to be obtained.
Also--24 weeks? Really? I'm sorry, but that needs to be changed...
Sunday, April 21, 2013
RAWR means "I Love You" in dinosaur
This past weekend, we loaded up the van with Roland, my brother Cole and his girlfriend Nicky. Colin had his regional conference in Bozeman, so we decided to make the trip down there with him and spend some time shopping and hanging out while he was getting his church on.
On the trip up, we stopped at a beautiful scenic viewing area between Helena and Great Falls. Roland got loaded up in the BabyHawk (oh my god, have I mentioned how awesome this thing is? We're still adjusting, but I think it's amazing...) and we went to climb up a few flights of stairs. It's a beautiful stop looking out over the river. Unfortunately, it was windy and a little chilly, so we didn't stay for very long.
Not long after our first little stop, my poor baby had a bit of an explosion in his car seat. We have decided that on long car rides, he needs to drink juice or water instead of milk and avoid sugar. Of course, for breakfast his uncle gave him a few powdered doughnuts and he was sucking down milk the whole trip. This combined in a pretty gross explosion. Poor baby was pretty upset, but we got stopped and got him cleaned up and changed. After puking, he seemed much happier...figures.
After the few dawdles on the way up, we barely made it to Bozeman in time for Colin to get in to register for his conference. We dropped him off and got checked into our hotel. We stayed at our normal haunt, the Lewis and Clark Hotel. It's fairly inexpensive (we paid $85 a night) and the people there have always been incredibly friendly. It's right next to the Co-op, just a few blocks from campus, the rooms are spacious and clean with fridges and microwaves, and they have homemade banana bread and muffins for breakfast. It's not super fancy and they only have a hot tub (no pool) but we've had nothing but good luck with them.
Friday night, we ordered Mackenzie River pizza--mmmm, so delicious--and Chas came over to hang out for awhile. I was fairly exhausted from the long drive, so Roland and I hung out in the hotel room while the other kids went wandering. Picked Colin up from his conference at 9 and handed over baby duty (lucky jerk, the baby fell asleep almost immediately) and then passed out.
Saturday was another full day. We discovered that the Museum of the Rockies had a free admission day, in honor of Astronomy. We wanted to try to time it so Colin could join us, but really, we couldn't miss out on free day.
Roland absolutely adored it.
First off, there were a ton of people. We wanted to see a show in their brand new theater, but the line was huge so we didn't even bother. The crowds were thick and kind of obnoxious. It didn't take long for me to hit my people limit.
We did things backwards this time around and started off with the dinosaurs. He was pretty excited by the different moving machines at the very beginning, and then wasn't terribly thrilled for the next few rooms...until we got into the room with the giant dinosaurs. His eyes got wide and he leaned way forward in his stroller and started growling and roaring and squealing with glee. So we pulled him out, got his baby leash hooked on, and then him roam. He would wander up to the exhibit, stare up, and go 'RAWR!' I think he was pretty impressed by the giant things that had big sharp teeth.
We didn't spend much time in the Native American section or in the Early American History section. While they're both parts that are really neat, I've personally seen them many, many times, and I didn't think it was something Roland would be hugely interested in.
After that, we stopped in the Rain forest Experience. This was pretty neat, and something I've never seen at the museum before. It was a big maze they had set up that had different trivia questions about the rain forest to help guide you through. Along the way was different sensory exhibits that were aimed at children. Roland was particularly fond of the rain maker.
At one point near the end of the exhibit was a set of monkey bars. Uncle Cole lifted him up so he could grab the bar and then let him go (sticking close enough that he could grab Roland as soon as he let go.) I didn't think that Roland would stand for that for very long, but he hung there for a good 45 seconds before letting go with a big goofy grin. We did it again and got video of it.
Have I mentioned how my child loves to climb? I'm going to have problems with this one, I think.
We headed up to the third floor for the Explore Yellowstone Children's section. I had never been in this part of the museum, and I don't think I even realized that they had this up there! This was hands down my favorite part of the museum. It was filled with kid friendly activities aimed at children under 8. There was a geyser that you could set off, a small frontier kitchen complete with tons of fake food and dishes, different outfits for dress up, fishing poles and fishes, a tent and fire pit, and a little play area with soft mats for toddlers. At the front of the room, they had a bunch of small backpacks hanging up, with a green ranger vest and binoculars in each one. Very, very fun stuff for little ones, and I think we will be spending a lot of time here next time we hit the museum.
Our only problem in the children's section was, once again, too many people. By the time we left, the room was brimming with littles and their parents. That and Roland took a small tumble down a few steps. Poor kid was awfully upset, but that was in part due to him being sleepy and hungry and just generally grumpy.
We headed down to the gift shop and hunted for something to bring home for the boy child. We probably spent...oh...half an hour trying to decide on what dinosaur to bring home. I would give him two and tell him to pick one. He would grab one...and then the other...and then throw them both in the basket. He thought this was great fun. We ended up with a soft T-Rex and a book on dinosaurs that RAWR's. I figured that would make him happy, and every time he plays with his dinosaur, he starts growling. Score one for mom.
We met back up with Cole and Nicky and headed back to the hotel. At this point, I had a fairly cranky child. We snacked a bit and attempted to nap for several hours. Of course, he was too wound up and excited for that to work. Poor momma could have really used one too!
Colin bugged out of his conference a bit early, and we hooked up with Chas and Sammy for dinner at the Montana Ale Works. If you haven't eaten here before, it's an absolute must! The food is amazing, the drinks are delicious, the food comes quickly, and the people are all incredibly friendly. I had the rib-eye which was...exactly what I needed. Roland was a little cranky because it was late and there were a lot of people, but all things considered, he was pretty darn good.
Oh, the best part about the Ale Works? Desert. Their creme brulee is to die for. It's almost too much for one person, so it's best to share, but yeah...definitely not to be missed.
This morning, Colin had a few last meetings and church. I was going to try to join him for church, but between being incredibly sore from driving and running around and not feeling well, it wasn't a very good idea. We got packed and loaded and snagged him, grabbing food on our way out of town. We didn't get to see Chas this morning because I was trying to get out well ahead of the bad weather.
Luckily, though we ran into some pretty thick snow, it wasn't anything too terrible, and it wasn't overly windy.
All in all, it was an excellent albeit exhausting weekend. Our van handled amazingly well in the mountains (aside from in the wind, but that isn't anything new) and we got nearly 18 miles to the gallon. For a 20 year old mini-van, I think we're doing pretty good!
I can't wait to take Roland back to the museum. I'm thrilled that he's acquired our love for museums, and it's something I can't wait to share with him as he grows up.
Best part of the weekend? After we got home from the museum and we were cuddling in bed, he decided he was going to attack me. By pouncing on me and gnawing on my stomach and saying, 'RAWR' over and over again. It was pretty damn cute!
Colin bugged out of his conference a bit early, and we hooked up with Chas and Sammy for dinner at the Montana Ale Works. If you haven't eaten here before, it's an absolute must! The food is amazing, the drinks are delicious, the food comes quickly, and the people are all incredibly friendly. I had the rib-eye which was...exactly what I needed. Roland was a little cranky because it was late and there were a lot of people, but all things considered, he was pretty darn good.
Oh, the best part about the Ale Works? Desert. Their creme brulee is to die for. It's almost too much for one person, so it's best to share, but yeah...definitely not to be missed.
This morning, Colin had a few last meetings and church. I was going to try to join him for church, but between being incredibly sore from driving and running around and not feeling well, it wasn't a very good idea. We got packed and loaded and snagged him, grabbing food on our way out of town. We didn't get to see Chas this morning because I was trying to get out well ahead of the bad weather.
Luckily, though we ran into some pretty thick snow, it wasn't anything too terrible, and it wasn't overly windy.
All in all, it was an excellent albeit exhausting weekend. Our van handled amazingly well in the mountains (aside from in the wind, but that isn't anything new) and we got nearly 18 miles to the gallon. For a 20 year old mini-van, I think we're doing pretty good!
I can't wait to take Roland back to the museum. I'm thrilled that he's acquired our love for museums, and it's something I can't wait to share with him as he grows up.
Best part of the weekend? After we got home from the museum and we were cuddling in bed, he decided he was going to attack me. By pouncing on me and gnawing on my stomach and saying, 'RAWR' over and over again. It was pretty damn cute!
Friday, April 19, 2013
Boston and Politics
It's been a difficult week for Americans. There has been death and senseless destruction and horror. Tears of pain as we watch our fellow Americans hurting and tears of joy as we see the amazing side of humanity that we so often miss. Many of us are emotional raw, many of us are scared, many of us mourn. The City of Boston and the entire county has drawn together during grief and sadness.
For the most part, we've seen the good in the world this week, in the wake of tragedy.
And then there is everyone else.
I've tried to ignore it, but it's hard to do. The assholes who are trying to make this about them, who are trying to use this as a spring board for their own political platform. If it was just the politicians, I could almost forgive it. But then you add in the journalists on both sides of the spectrum, along with the all of the internet and their love for making stupid memes.
You know what we should be doing right now? We should be mourning the people who died in the bombings and the people who were terribly injured. We should pray (if that's your bag of tea) for everyone who has been affected. We should be thankful that it wasn't much worse. We should offer our profuse thanks to the Emergency Workers who handled the situation with speed and aplomb. We should ask ourselves what we would do in an emergency situation and how we would handle it. We should be grateful that the bombers are no longer on the street and we should be hopeful that the second suspect is able to shed light on why they did what they did.
You know what we shouldn't be doing right now? Making this into a goddamn political statement. Do you know what using a tragedy to stage a political grandstand makes you? It makes you an asshole. A complete and utter asshole.
Stop it, ok? Stop posting stupid cartoons on facebook effectively pointing and laughing at the other side of the political spectrum for being wrong. Stop making shitty comments about how this tragedy could have been prevented with better gun control or whatever.
And this isn't just directed at the hardcore conservatives. Oh no. There are plenty of liberals out there being assholes too.
Stop it. All of you. You look like assholes and you kind of make me want to slap you.
You aren't pithy. You aren't funny. You are the reason that our country is so divided. Put aside your stupid political bullshit for, I don't know, even a fucking week, and actually work together. At the very least, let the families mourn in peace before using their loved ones for your political maneuvering.
Also, before you say it, yes...I know that we aren't alone in having had a rough week. I know that people are dying all over the world. I know that soldiers are dying. I know that terrible things are happening every minute all over. I know that. I get that. That doesn't lessen what we're going through right now.
For the most part, we've seen the good in the world this week, in the wake of tragedy.
And then there is everyone else.
I've tried to ignore it, but it's hard to do. The assholes who are trying to make this about them, who are trying to use this as a spring board for their own political platform. If it was just the politicians, I could almost forgive it. But then you add in the journalists on both sides of the spectrum, along with the all of the internet and their love for making stupid memes.
You know what we should be doing right now? We should be mourning the people who died in the bombings and the people who were terribly injured. We should pray (if that's your bag of tea) for everyone who has been affected. We should be thankful that it wasn't much worse. We should offer our profuse thanks to the Emergency Workers who handled the situation with speed and aplomb. We should ask ourselves what we would do in an emergency situation and how we would handle it. We should be grateful that the bombers are no longer on the street and we should be hopeful that the second suspect is able to shed light on why they did what they did.
You know what we shouldn't be doing right now? Making this into a goddamn political statement. Do you know what using a tragedy to stage a political grandstand makes you? It makes you an asshole. A complete and utter asshole.
Stop it, ok? Stop posting stupid cartoons on facebook effectively pointing and laughing at the other side of the political spectrum for being wrong. Stop making shitty comments about how this tragedy could have been prevented with better gun control or whatever.
And this isn't just directed at the hardcore conservatives. Oh no. There are plenty of liberals out there being assholes too.
Stop it. All of you. You look like assholes and you kind of make me want to slap you.
You aren't pithy. You aren't funny. You are the reason that our country is so divided. Put aside your stupid political bullshit for, I don't know, even a fucking week, and actually work together. At the very least, let the families mourn in peace before using their loved ones for your political maneuvering.
Also, before you say it, yes...I know that we aren't alone in having had a rough week. I know that people are dying all over the world. I know that soldiers are dying. I know that terrible things are happening every minute all over. I know that. I get that. That doesn't lessen what we're going through right now.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
The Westboro Baptist Church and Faith
An argument on a dear friends facebook page really bothered me today. I wanted to respond and wade into the fray, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It was a battle that I couldn't bring myself to face today.
I like to think that I am a pretty open and accepting person. I try not to judge people based on their lifestyles, and I don't mind having a disagreement with a friend. I can discuss and argue a topic with someone, and we can still walk away caring about one another. There are a few topics that I can't really bend on, but there aren't very many of them.
I have friends from all walks of life. Gay, straight, bi-sexual, transsexual, asexual, kinky, vanilla, poly. I have friends who are Christians and friends who are Atheists and friends who are Satanists and friends who are Pagans and Wiccans and Pastafarians. I have friends who are Rebulicans and friends who are Democrats and probably even a few Tea Partiers. I have friends who are pro-life and I have friends who are pro-choice. I've got a pretty wide spread.
The conversation that I saw today was insane. It was disrespectful and it was just horrible.
I like having heated discussions and I like debating with my friends. I like to hear different sides of any story, and I am happy to sit down with someone online or in person and debate and discuss over a beer or a pizza or around a campfire. These conversations with my friends sometimes get heated, and sometimes people get irritated and angry. That's only natural, especially when you are talking about one of the big topics that gets people going--politics, religion, gay marriage, abortion.
The point is, when these conversations are finished, we can usually walk away from it and still be friends. While the conversation might get heated, the attacks don't get personal. That is the way that debate and discussions like this should be. Sure, sometimes you are going to lose a friend over differing views, but for the most part, both parties should be able to walk away on friendly terms.
I expect my friends and family to maintain a certain level of decorum when they are debating on my facebook. I have a lot of friends who disagree with me on many topics, and most of the time they just don't get into it with me. When they do, it's usually in a polite manner. If I were to see someone on my facebook attacking someone else or being overly rude and out of line, I will delete them. There is just no reason for it.
Now that that is out of the way...
Westboro Baptist Church. They are a horrible group of people. No, really. They're absolutely despicable. I challenge you to find someone who will tell you that they agree with the things the WBC has done. I know there are people who agree with their views on homosexuality, but that's different. I don't agree with that, but it's still different.
As I said, I know a lot of people. From super conservative Christians to hardcore Atheists, and not a single one of them (to my knowledge, and if they do, they should unfriend me right now) agrees with the things that the WBC has done. I've asked many of my Pastor Wife friends, and none of them can think of anyone they've ever met that agrees with them either. The KKK thinks they're a horrible hateful group, for God's Sake!
Let me say that again. No one likes the Westboro Baptist Church. No one agrees with the things they do. No one approves of their actions.
I've been told that because I'm a Christian, and because they claim to be Christians, that I am just like them. That I am responsible for their actions.
I'm sorry, but I have to call bullshit on that. They may claim to be Christians, but they are NOT my brothers and sisters in Christ. They claim Christianity, but Christianity doesn't claim them.
And you know what? That is just like saying, 'That man over there raped a woman. Since you're a man, you're a rapist too.' or, 'Muslims bombed the World Trade Center and were terrorists. Since you're Muslim, you're a terrorist too.' Sorry. That doesn't fly. The fact that we VERY LOOSELY share a religious text means nothing. Why? Because they're completely ignoring the whole 'Love thy neighbor' thing. Which is one of the biggies.
I identify as a Christian, but that doesn't mean that I am a hateful bigot. I think anyone who knows me at all can tell you that is not true. I identify as a Christian, but I have nothing in common with the Westboro Baptist Church. I know a lot of Christians, and everyone one of them is a good person. They may disagree with certain things (particularly gay marriage and abortion) but they would never wish death on those people or being horrible to them.
I know that Christians get a bad rap, in great part due to the WBC. Unfortunately, the shit-heads in the world get a lot more publicity than, say, Justin Lee. Or the way that the United Church of Christ and the Disciples of Christ have become completely open and affirming, working closely with LGBT groups. The good that is done is rarely talked about, because the people who are doing good don't make much of a fuss about what they are doing.
I guess what I'm saying is--don't judge a book by it's cover. Just because I'm a Christian doesn't mean I am full of hate and bigotry. Give people a chance to show you who they are through their actions, rather than assuming you know them based on their faith.
I like to think that I am a pretty open and accepting person. I try not to judge people based on their lifestyles, and I don't mind having a disagreement with a friend. I can discuss and argue a topic with someone, and we can still walk away caring about one another. There are a few topics that I can't really bend on, but there aren't very many of them.
I have friends from all walks of life. Gay, straight, bi-sexual, transsexual, asexual, kinky, vanilla, poly. I have friends who are Christians and friends who are Atheists and friends who are Satanists and friends who are Pagans and Wiccans and Pastafarians. I have friends who are Rebulicans and friends who are Democrats and probably even a few Tea Partiers. I have friends who are pro-life and I have friends who are pro-choice. I've got a pretty wide spread.
The conversation that I saw today was insane. It was disrespectful and it was just horrible.
I like having heated discussions and I like debating with my friends. I like to hear different sides of any story, and I am happy to sit down with someone online or in person and debate and discuss over a beer or a pizza or around a campfire. These conversations with my friends sometimes get heated, and sometimes people get irritated and angry. That's only natural, especially when you are talking about one of the big topics that gets people going--politics, religion, gay marriage, abortion.
The point is, when these conversations are finished, we can usually walk away from it and still be friends. While the conversation might get heated, the attacks don't get personal. That is the way that debate and discussions like this should be. Sure, sometimes you are going to lose a friend over differing views, but for the most part, both parties should be able to walk away on friendly terms.
I expect my friends and family to maintain a certain level of decorum when they are debating on my facebook. I have a lot of friends who disagree with me on many topics, and most of the time they just don't get into it with me. When they do, it's usually in a polite manner. If I were to see someone on my facebook attacking someone else or being overly rude and out of line, I will delete them. There is just no reason for it.
Now that that is out of the way...
Westboro Baptist Church. They are a horrible group of people. No, really. They're absolutely despicable. I challenge you to find someone who will tell you that they agree with the things the WBC has done. I know there are people who agree with their views on homosexuality, but that's different. I don't agree with that, but it's still different.
As I said, I know a lot of people. From super conservative Christians to hardcore Atheists, and not a single one of them (to my knowledge, and if they do, they should unfriend me right now) agrees with the things that the WBC has done. I've asked many of my Pastor Wife friends, and none of them can think of anyone they've ever met that agrees with them either. The KKK thinks they're a horrible hateful group, for God's Sake!
Let me say that again. No one likes the Westboro Baptist Church. No one agrees with the things they do. No one approves of their actions.
I've been told that because I'm a Christian, and because they claim to be Christians, that I am just like them. That I am responsible for their actions.
I'm sorry, but I have to call bullshit on that. They may claim to be Christians, but they are NOT my brothers and sisters in Christ. They claim Christianity, but Christianity doesn't claim them.
And you know what? That is just like saying, 'That man over there raped a woman. Since you're a man, you're a rapist too.' or, 'Muslims bombed the World Trade Center and were terrorists. Since you're Muslim, you're a terrorist too.' Sorry. That doesn't fly. The fact that we VERY LOOSELY share a religious text means nothing. Why? Because they're completely ignoring the whole 'Love thy neighbor' thing. Which is one of the biggies.
I identify as a Christian, but that doesn't mean that I am a hateful bigot. I think anyone who knows me at all can tell you that is not true. I identify as a Christian, but I have nothing in common with the Westboro Baptist Church. I know a lot of Christians, and everyone one of them is a good person. They may disagree with certain things (particularly gay marriage and abortion) but they would never wish death on those people or being horrible to them.
I know that Christians get a bad rap, in great part due to the WBC. Unfortunately, the shit-heads in the world get a lot more publicity than, say, Justin Lee. Or the way that the United Church of Christ and the Disciples of Christ have become completely open and affirming, working closely with LGBT groups. The good that is done is rarely talked about, because the people who are doing good don't make much of a fuss about what they are doing.
I guess what I'm saying is--don't judge a book by it's cover. Just because I'm a Christian doesn't mean I am full of hate and bigotry. Give people a chance to show you who they are through their actions, rather than assuming you know them based on their faith.
Two Truths
Today, I have confirmed two things to be absolutely true.
First, Spring is here, despite the snow still on the ground outside and the chilly temperatures.
Second, Cats are the best serial killers in the world.
So, we have a cat. Well, really, my brother has a cat. But that animal loves my kid so much that he might as well belong to us. Casper is really Roland's cat.
Casper is a fierce hunter. She's an excellent mouser.
But she has a terrible habit.
She likes to play with her food.
When she catches a mouse, she promptly deposits it somewhere where the tiny furry thing won't escape and she can pounce and bat and nibble at her leisure. A lovely porcelain receptacle that is intended for her use. That's right. She dumps them in the bathtub.
This is where the Mouse Circus is also held, if one is lucky enough to see it. That's another story in and of itself.
This morning, my mom got up to go to the gym, and Casper was in the tub, playing with a mouse. Pretty sure she's bored, since my brother is out of town this week. She was doing what she normally does, batting it around and then laying there all lazy like until it started scurrying.
This afternoon, when I went to take a shower (armed with bleach spray and a scrubby, of course) there was nothing left in the tub. A few tiny tufts of hair but that's it.
So you see, this is why the cat is the perfect serial killer. She devours her prey completely, with nothing left behind. Well, except a little hair.
These are the truths that I learned today. I am so glad that spring is here...
First, Spring is here, despite the snow still on the ground outside and the chilly temperatures.
Second, Cats are the best serial killers in the world.
So, we have a cat. Well, really, my brother has a cat. But that animal loves my kid so much that he might as well belong to us. Casper is really Roland's cat.
Casper is a fierce hunter. She's an excellent mouser.
But she has a terrible habit.
She likes to play with her food.
When she catches a mouse, she promptly deposits it somewhere where the tiny furry thing won't escape and she can pounce and bat and nibble at her leisure. A lovely porcelain receptacle that is intended for her use. That's right. She dumps them in the bathtub.
This is where the Mouse Circus is also held, if one is lucky enough to see it. That's another story in and of itself.
This morning, my mom got up to go to the gym, and Casper was in the tub, playing with a mouse. Pretty sure she's bored, since my brother is out of town this week. She was doing what she normally does, batting it around and then laying there all lazy like until it started scurrying.
This afternoon, when I went to take a shower (armed with bleach spray and a scrubby, of course) there was nothing left in the tub. A few tiny tufts of hair but that's it.
So you see, this is why the cat is the perfect serial killer. She devours her prey completely, with nothing left behind. Well, except a little hair.
These are the truths that I learned today. I am so glad that spring is here...
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Crippled
Here's the thing about depression, or at least my particular brand of it. It comes and it goes without any real warning. There are days where I will be just fine and then it will just hit me. The painful, crippling apathy. The heavy heart. The frustration with my life and everyone around me. The overwhelming anxiety and fear of the future. The anxiety almost always revolves around money.
When it hits, it hits hard. Sometimes I can rock the St. John's Wort and that takes the edge off the anxiety. Other times, it doesn't do anything for me.
Sometimes, it is so hard for me to function. I want to curl up in a ball in bed and read or watch tv and just escape the world.
And then a little boy starts poking at me, and I remember that I have responsibilities and duties. I drag my ass out of bed and I force myself to move. For him. Because I have to take care of him and love him and give him the best life that I can.
It is so hard some days. So very hard.
It's even worse when I walk around the house and see dirty dishes that need to be washed and laundry that needs to be folded and cleaning to be done and sewing to be done. Because then not only do I feel depressed, but I feel guilty. I let myself feel guilty for not doing more, when some days, getting out of bed and feeding the child and changing him is about the best that I can do.
The internet is easy. It doesn't take too many spoons for me to sit here and read facebook and G+ and wander around. It's easy to slip away into another world when I'm like this.
Depression is a bitch. It's crippling and it's horrible.
I do the best I can, although it's never enough. I am never going to have an immaculate home, even when it's just me and Colin and Roland, our house is not going to be spotless. There will be messes. There will be clutter. Because when I only have so many spoons in the day, my focus is on my son and my schoolwork and my husband and my writing. Everything else just has to wait.
It is incredibly hard to remember that I have limitations. My depression isn't as bad as it could be, and I am grateful for that. I am mostly able to function on a day to day basis without medication. But it's bad enough.
On days like this, all I can do is keep pushing through. Find the little joys in my family and the things that I love and hope that will be enough.
When it hits, it hits hard. Sometimes I can rock the St. John's Wort and that takes the edge off the anxiety. Other times, it doesn't do anything for me.
Sometimes, it is so hard for me to function. I want to curl up in a ball in bed and read or watch tv and just escape the world.
And then a little boy starts poking at me, and I remember that I have responsibilities and duties. I drag my ass out of bed and I force myself to move. For him. Because I have to take care of him and love him and give him the best life that I can.
It is so hard some days. So very hard.
It's even worse when I walk around the house and see dirty dishes that need to be washed and laundry that needs to be folded and cleaning to be done and sewing to be done. Because then not only do I feel depressed, but I feel guilty. I let myself feel guilty for not doing more, when some days, getting out of bed and feeding the child and changing him is about the best that I can do.
The internet is easy. It doesn't take too many spoons for me to sit here and read facebook and G+ and wander around. It's easy to slip away into another world when I'm like this.
Depression is a bitch. It's crippling and it's horrible.
I do the best I can, although it's never enough. I am never going to have an immaculate home, even when it's just me and Colin and Roland, our house is not going to be spotless. There will be messes. There will be clutter. Because when I only have so many spoons in the day, my focus is on my son and my schoolwork and my husband and my writing. Everything else just has to wait.
It is incredibly hard to remember that I have limitations. My depression isn't as bad as it could be, and I am grateful for that. I am mostly able to function on a day to day basis without medication. But it's bad enough.
On days like this, all I can do is keep pushing through. Find the little joys in my family and the things that I love and hope that will be enough.
Be Amazing
The fact that my husband and I are planning on moving back to Missoula sometimes brings up mixed feelings for me. On one hand, it's an amazing place to live. It's absolutely beautiful. There is just something about living in the mountains that brings me a sense of peace...although, I'll never live UP a goddamn mountain again. I have some amazing friends there. It's a good city and I love it.
On the other hand, there are times where I have difficulties divorcing the person I am today from the person I was 12 years ago.
Of course a person is going to change in a decade, but it's hard for me to remember that other people have changed just as much as I have. And the person I am today is completely different from the girl I was when I first went to college.
Have you seen those Weight Watcher commercials? The one where there are two people, both crying, one fat and one thin(ner)? They're the same people, basically talking about how amazing their life is after Weight Watchers. Ok, well, I hate those commercials, but that is kind of how I feel some days. If I could talk to myself 10 or 15 or 20 years ago, I would give myself some advice.
First-People are cruel. They'll make fun of you, they'll tease you, they'll treat you like shit. Their cruelty is not your fault. And the things they say are not necessarily true. Don't let the cruelty get to you, which I know is easier said than done. Just remember that you are beautiful and you are amazing and you are perfect just the way you are.
Don't give up your dreams. No matter how silly they might be, don't give up. Keep working for the things that you love, the things that make you happy. Don't let snide comments deter you, even when those comments come from the people that you love. Yes, they should support you in what you do, but sometimes that doesn't happen. Sometimes you just have to support yourself.
You are worthwhile. Your stories and your life is just as important as everyone else's. Don't let anyone tell you that your problems and dreams and concerns aren't as important as theirs. You deserve to have friends that will treat you well. You deserve to have friends that let you share the spotlight, even if it's just letting you have an open ear every down and then so that you can vent your frustrations.
You are beautiful. You are amazing.
Live life to the fullest. Live each day like it might be your last. Tell your friends that you love them often. Hold on to the good ones, because they are so hard to find.
Be amazing.
I'm excited to go back to Missoula, again. It really is a city that draws you in. No matter how far away I've been, my heart has always been there. My priorities are a little different this time around--school and family are going to take top billing. There are people that I can't wait to see and spend time with, though.
It's going to be a good move for us.
On the other hand, there are times where I have difficulties divorcing the person I am today from the person I was 12 years ago.
Of course a person is going to change in a decade, but it's hard for me to remember that other people have changed just as much as I have. And the person I am today is completely different from the girl I was when I first went to college.
Have you seen those Weight Watcher commercials? The one where there are two people, both crying, one fat and one thin(ner)? They're the same people, basically talking about how amazing their life is after Weight Watchers. Ok, well, I hate those commercials, but that is kind of how I feel some days. If I could talk to myself 10 or 15 or 20 years ago, I would give myself some advice.
First-People are cruel. They'll make fun of you, they'll tease you, they'll treat you like shit. Their cruelty is not your fault. And the things they say are not necessarily true. Don't let the cruelty get to you, which I know is easier said than done. Just remember that you are beautiful and you are amazing and you are perfect just the way you are.
Don't give up your dreams. No matter how silly they might be, don't give up. Keep working for the things that you love, the things that make you happy. Don't let snide comments deter you, even when those comments come from the people that you love. Yes, they should support you in what you do, but sometimes that doesn't happen. Sometimes you just have to support yourself.
You are worthwhile. Your stories and your life is just as important as everyone else's. Don't let anyone tell you that your problems and dreams and concerns aren't as important as theirs. You deserve to have friends that will treat you well. You deserve to have friends that let you share the spotlight, even if it's just letting you have an open ear every down and then so that you can vent your frustrations.
You are beautiful. You are amazing.
Live life to the fullest. Live each day like it might be your last. Tell your friends that you love them often. Hold on to the good ones, because they are so hard to find.
Be amazing.
I'm excited to go back to Missoula, again. It really is a city that draws you in. No matter how far away I've been, my heart has always been there. My priorities are a little different this time around--school and family are going to take top billing. There are people that I can't wait to see and spend time with, though.
It's going to be a good move for us.
Find Joy
Today was a difficult day for a lot of people.
I woke up from a nap with the baby to see the news. They were being cautious in their reporting. Suspected bombs. Suspected terror event. The President gave a speech and it was the same thing.
It doesn't matter who did it. It was still an act of terrorism. I know when we say the dreaded t-word we think Middle East, but that's not always the case. It's disingenuous to pretend it's anything else.
More than 140 people are injured. 3 are dead.
How is that anything but an act of terrorism?
Today was a difficult day for a lot of people. People are dead. Families are waiting to see if their loved ones will recover from their injuries.
Sometimes, it's hard for me to come to terms with the fact that I am raising a child in a world like this. Where terrible people do senseless, terrible things. Where we are inundated with news and video and a constant stream of information. We've sat with the news channel on most of the day, listening to the same information over and over...watching the same horrific videos over and over.
When 9-11 happened, I didn't have a working tv in my dorm room. I didn't spend time watching the news coverage on tv. I didn't obsess over the news that was coming out on the internet. It's probably a blessing that I didn't.
There are terrible things that happen in our world every day. Sometimes, it's almost impossible for us to bear. And we should know about these things, because it's important for us to be aware of what is happening in our world. But we shouldn't obsess over them.
Today was a difficult day for many people. It was a difficult day for me, too. But all I could do when I watched the news was hug my son and kiss his head and tell myself that I will try to make the world a better place for him.
It was a difficult day, but there were beautiful things that happened.
When the bombs went off, people in the crowds ran towards them to help one another.
The city banded together, and the world has shown their support and love.
Even in times of darkness, there are always bright glimmers.
My own personal glimmer, as always, comes in the form of my son. He makes everything better.
Tonight was Spaghetti night. He giggled and made a mess and was completely joyful. The sadness didn't diminish his light whatsoever. It didn't change him or make him less.
I woke up from a nap with the baby to see the news. They were being cautious in their reporting. Suspected bombs. Suspected terror event. The President gave a speech and it was the same thing.
It doesn't matter who did it. It was still an act of terrorism. I know when we say the dreaded t-word we think Middle East, but that's not always the case. It's disingenuous to pretend it's anything else.
More than 140 people are injured. 3 are dead.
How is that anything but an act of terrorism?
Today was a difficult day for a lot of people. People are dead. Families are waiting to see if their loved ones will recover from their injuries.
Sometimes, it's hard for me to come to terms with the fact that I am raising a child in a world like this. Where terrible people do senseless, terrible things. Where we are inundated with news and video and a constant stream of information. We've sat with the news channel on most of the day, listening to the same information over and over...watching the same horrific videos over and over.
When 9-11 happened, I didn't have a working tv in my dorm room. I didn't spend time watching the news coverage on tv. I didn't obsess over the news that was coming out on the internet. It's probably a blessing that I didn't.
There are terrible things that happen in our world every day. Sometimes, it's almost impossible for us to bear. And we should know about these things, because it's important for us to be aware of what is happening in our world. But we shouldn't obsess over them.
Today was a difficult day for many people. It was a difficult day for me, too. But all I could do when I watched the news was hug my son and kiss his head and tell myself that I will try to make the world a better place for him.
It was a difficult day, but there were beautiful things that happened.
When the bombs went off, people in the crowds ran towards them to help one another.
The city banded together, and the world has shown their support and love.
Even in times of darkness, there are always bright glimmers.
My own personal glimmer, as always, comes in the form of my son. He makes everything better.
Tonight was Spaghetti night. He giggled and made a mess and was completely joyful. The sadness didn't diminish his light whatsoever. It didn't change him or make him less.
You can't look at this picture and not see some joy there. On days like today, we all have to find our own source of joy. We should do that every day, but especially when things are difficult. During the hard times, the joy is sometimes all we have.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Breast is Best
It's a pretty big topic, particularly among mothers. What is the best way to feed your child? Of course, there are so many nutritional perks in breast milk...but that doesn't really explain the militant nature of some mothers.
Let me say first--breast milk IS the best for babies. It's good and tasty and breast feeding is a good bonding experience. However, the important thing is that your child is happy and healthy and well fed and growing, regardless of whether you're breast feeding or formula feeding.
Breast feeding has become a Big Deal lately. Some places of business get a little crabby if you are breast feeding in public. The internet is full of stories of mothers who were asked to leave the store while breast feeding because they were "distracting." It's not like they're whipping their boobs out and flashing people. They're not being lewd or obnoxious, most of them are just discreetly and quietly feeding their child. Hell, during the summer, you'll see women who are exposing much more than that wandering around and no one says a word.
Why is our society so afraid of breast feeding? Why do they find it disgusting or distracting or wrong? Why are mothers told that they should feed their child in the bathroom?
I'll admit--I didn't breast feed in public, but it wasn't because anyone made me feel bad about it. It was all my own preference. We had a tough time breast feeding, and getting positioned was a real challenge for me. I couldn't even imagine trying to balance that. So instead, I pumped what I could and supplemented with formula.
People gave me grief over it. Not many, because I think people were a little afraid of me those first few months. But I did get a few opinions on both sides of the spectrum. I had people tell me, 'Well, you know, formula feeding isn't healthy...' and people tell me, 'Why are you still pumping if you're feeding him formula as well.' Well, because that's what I wanted to do.
When Roland was about 3 1/2 months old, my supply went way down. I'm sure that if I'd worked harder at it, I could have kept it flowing smoothly. But here was a kid that was already drinking 10 ounces in a sitting. And near the end, I was getting MAYBE an ounce at a time. I'd pump every 2 or 3 hours and get hardly nothing. When I compared it to what he was capable of drinking, it was totally discouraging. I remember the last day I was breast feeding and pumping (because I'd alternate between letting him latch and pumping) I spent the entire day just sobbing because I was a failure as a mother. That was a bad day.
The worst part about Breast versus Bottle is that the nastiest people are other women. Other MOTHERS. Women are telling one another that they aren't doing it right, that they are endangering their child through their choices. There is sniping and bitching and back biting and it's absolutely horrible.
We live in a society where as women, we have to struggle every day. We have people telling us that we can't breast feed in public because it's disgusting or wrong. Those same people tell us that breast feeding is best, so obviously, we're not supposed to leave our homes for the first year of our child's life.
We need to support each other. Having a child is hard work as it is. There are so many decisions that you have to make, and you always second guess yourself and wonder if what you are doing is right for your child. This decision shouldn't be one that causes so much dissent. Your baby is fed and healthy...that is what matters. That is the only thing that matters.
Let me say first--breast milk IS the best for babies. It's good and tasty and breast feeding is a good bonding experience. However, the important thing is that your child is happy and healthy and well fed and growing, regardless of whether you're breast feeding or formula feeding.
Breast feeding has become a Big Deal lately. Some places of business get a little crabby if you are breast feeding in public. The internet is full of stories of mothers who were asked to leave the store while breast feeding because they were "distracting." It's not like they're whipping their boobs out and flashing people. They're not being lewd or obnoxious, most of them are just discreetly and quietly feeding their child. Hell, during the summer, you'll see women who are exposing much more than that wandering around and no one says a word.
Why is our society so afraid of breast feeding? Why do they find it disgusting or distracting or wrong? Why are mothers told that they should feed their child in the bathroom?
I'll admit--I didn't breast feed in public, but it wasn't because anyone made me feel bad about it. It was all my own preference. We had a tough time breast feeding, and getting positioned was a real challenge for me. I couldn't even imagine trying to balance that. So instead, I pumped what I could and supplemented with formula.
People gave me grief over it. Not many, because I think people were a little afraid of me those first few months. But I did get a few opinions on both sides of the spectrum. I had people tell me, 'Well, you know, formula feeding isn't healthy...' and people tell me, 'Why are you still pumping if you're feeding him formula as well.' Well, because that's what I wanted to do.
When Roland was about 3 1/2 months old, my supply went way down. I'm sure that if I'd worked harder at it, I could have kept it flowing smoothly. But here was a kid that was already drinking 10 ounces in a sitting. And near the end, I was getting MAYBE an ounce at a time. I'd pump every 2 or 3 hours and get hardly nothing. When I compared it to what he was capable of drinking, it was totally discouraging. I remember the last day I was breast feeding and pumping (because I'd alternate between letting him latch and pumping) I spent the entire day just sobbing because I was a failure as a mother. That was a bad day.
The worst part about Breast versus Bottle is that the nastiest people are other women. Other MOTHERS. Women are telling one another that they aren't doing it right, that they are endangering their child through their choices. There is sniping and bitching and back biting and it's absolutely horrible.
We live in a society where as women, we have to struggle every day. We have people telling us that we can't breast feed in public because it's disgusting or wrong. Those same people tell us that breast feeding is best, so obviously, we're not supposed to leave our homes for the first year of our child's life.
We need to support each other. Having a child is hard work as it is. There are so many decisions that you have to make, and you always second guess yourself and wonder if what you are doing is right for your child. This decision shouldn't be one that causes so much dissent. Your baby is fed and healthy...that is what matters. That is the only thing that matters.
Blessings
There is something amazing about watching a child grow and change right before your eyes. It's like he learns something new every day. Precious moments slip away. It seems like just yesterday, he was a tiny (ok, relatively tiny, let's be honest here, my kid has always been a monster...) infant all curled up against my chest with the sweetest coos and gurgles. Sometimes there are still moments of that tiny baby when he comes up to me and curls up and puts his head on my chest, but they become more and more infrequent. Soon, I'll be lucky to get hugs and kisses let along long cuddly moments.
Today, he was sitting on my moms lap, and he leaned over and smacked her on the cheek. Pretty hard too. So, of course, she said no and tapped him on his cheek. He stopped and he just stared at her. He sat there for probably five minutes, just looking at her, really debating what he was going to do. You could see the little wheels turning in his head. Eventually he tried to pop her again and then loved on her, but it was pretty funny watching him really consider his options there. Of course, he decided to hit again, but we're getting there.
It's awesome watching him grow up. I love watching him learn and change and grow. He's such an amazing little boy, and he brings me so much joy. At the same time, it breaks my heart just a little. Those baby months are already long gone. We're firmly in the toddler arena now. The child he is now is such a blessing, but I do sometimes long for the quiet moments of babyhood.
Watching him grown really drives home how important it is to live each day in the moment. Life goes by so quickly, things change so quickly. Don't put things off until tomorrow, because you just don't know what tomorrow might hold. It's like...I lived in Colorado for four years. In four years, I never once made it up to Pikes Peak. Tried once, realized how expensive it was and that I was broke, drove back. I never went to Cave of the Winds. I never went to Royal Gorge. There are so many amazing things that I just never did and I really regret that.
I don't want to have regrets when it comes to my children. I don't want to look back on this time in five years and kick myself for not doing something. There are things I'm going to be sad that I didn't do, like make more homemade baby food, or breastfeed longer, or whatever...but I don't want regrets when it comes to Roland. During our time together, I try to make sure I am interacting with him and there for him and playing with him. More than anything, I want him to know how very loved he is.
I am so blessed. I have a husband who is a wonderful father and partner, who keeps me grounded and helps me through the hard times. I have a family that is fantastic and has been supportive and loving. I have friends who are amazing and always make me laugh and brighten my day. And I have my son, who is the light of my life, no matter how obnoxious he may be acting. He is my favorite part of every day.
Today, he was sitting on my moms lap, and he leaned over and smacked her on the cheek. Pretty hard too. So, of course, she said no and tapped him on his cheek. He stopped and he just stared at her. He sat there for probably five minutes, just looking at her, really debating what he was going to do. You could see the little wheels turning in his head. Eventually he tried to pop her again and then loved on her, but it was pretty funny watching him really consider his options there. Of course, he decided to hit again, but we're getting there.
It's awesome watching him grow up. I love watching him learn and change and grow. He's such an amazing little boy, and he brings me so much joy. At the same time, it breaks my heart just a little. Those baby months are already long gone. We're firmly in the toddler arena now. The child he is now is such a blessing, but I do sometimes long for the quiet moments of babyhood.
Watching him grown really drives home how important it is to live each day in the moment. Life goes by so quickly, things change so quickly. Don't put things off until tomorrow, because you just don't know what tomorrow might hold. It's like...I lived in Colorado for four years. In four years, I never once made it up to Pikes Peak. Tried once, realized how expensive it was and that I was broke, drove back. I never went to Cave of the Winds. I never went to Royal Gorge. There are so many amazing things that I just never did and I really regret that.
I don't want to have regrets when it comes to my children. I don't want to look back on this time in five years and kick myself for not doing something. There are things I'm going to be sad that I didn't do, like make more homemade baby food, or breastfeed longer, or whatever...but I don't want regrets when it comes to Roland. During our time together, I try to make sure I am interacting with him and there for him and playing with him. More than anything, I want him to know how very loved he is.
I am so blessed. I have a husband who is a wonderful father and partner, who keeps me grounded and helps me through the hard times. I have a family that is fantastic and has been supportive and loving. I have friends who are amazing and always make me laugh and brighten my day. And I have my son, who is the light of my life, no matter how obnoxious he may be acting. He is my favorite part of every day.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Horrible Bosses
Fair warning: This may be triggery to some people.
I wanted to write this post last night, but when it came to me, I was half asleep and totally out of it thanks to cold medicine and this horrific head cold.
I don't know why this didn't strike me before. Maybe it's because I'm just as broken as the rest of our society. I kind of feel like a horrible person, actually.
Ok, so, the movie Horrible Bosses came out in 2011. For those who haven't seen it, the basic premise of the movie is that this group of guys all have horrible bosses and make a plan to kill them. 'Cause, you know, that's better than just getting a different job.
The bosses are all pretty terrible people.
Dale works as a dental assistant. His boss, Julia, sexually harasses him repeatedly throughout the movie. When his buddies are talking about their horrible bosses, Dale chimes in. You know, because he is uncomfortable working in that environment. And of course, his buddies all laugh at him.
Because guys can't get raped. That's absurd. And they especially can't be raped by a hot piece of ass like Jennifer Aniston.
I've never been raped. I've never been sexually assaulted. But I know men who have endured both. And yes, some of them have been told, 'That isn't really rape. That's not really assault. You're imagining that. That isn't what really happened. Men can't be raped.'
That is the one that bothers me.
From http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/rape
So yeah. Dale wasn't out of line at all about the way he felt about his boss. Of course, at the end of the movie, she pretty much got off scott free. Oh yeah, and one of Dale's buddies fucked her. Cause, that's cool, right?
I wonder when it's going to be a serious topic and not fodder for a comedy? Maybe more men need to feel that they can stand up and admit what happened to them, but I don't see that happening any time soon. Admitting that you were overpowered by someone means admitting that you are weak, or that you were weak. And weakness, as we all know, is despised. If you are a victim once, you will be a victim for life.
And let's not forget the way women are treated when they have the audacity to admit that they've been raped or *gasp* name their attackers. Like this.
So, yeah. I can understand why men wouldn't want to step forward. And I understand why women don't want to either.
What is WRONG with our society?
I wanted to write this post last night, but when it came to me, I was half asleep and totally out of it thanks to cold medicine and this horrific head cold.
I don't know why this didn't strike me before. Maybe it's because I'm just as broken as the rest of our society. I kind of feel like a horrible person, actually.
Ok, so, the movie Horrible Bosses came out in 2011. For those who haven't seen it, the basic premise of the movie is that this group of guys all have horrible bosses and make a plan to kill them. 'Cause, you know, that's better than just getting a different job.
The bosses are all pretty terrible people.
Dale works as a dental assistant. His boss, Julia, sexually harasses him repeatedly throughout the movie. When his buddies are talking about their horrible bosses, Dale chimes in. You know, because he is uncomfortable working in that environment. And of course, his buddies all laugh at him.
Because guys can't get raped. That's absurd. And they especially can't be raped by a hot piece of ass like Jennifer Aniston.
I've never been raped. I've never been sexually assaulted. But I know men who have endured both. And yes, some of them have been told, 'That isn't really rape. That's not really assault. You're imagining that. That isn't what really happened. Men can't be raped.'
That is the one that bothers me.
From http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/rape
noun
1.
2.
any act of sexual intercourse that is forced upon a person.
3.
4.
an act of plunder, violent seizure, or abuse; despoliation; violation: the rape of the countryside.
5.
Archaic. the act of seizing and carrying off by force.
So yeah. Dale wasn't out of line at all about the way he felt about his boss. Of course, at the end of the movie, she pretty much got off scott free. Oh yeah, and one of Dale's buddies fucked her. Cause, that's cool, right?
I wonder when it's going to be a serious topic and not fodder for a comedy? Maybe more men need to feel that they can stand up and admit what happened to them, but I don't see that happening any time soon. Admitting that you were overpowered by someone means admitting that you are weak, or that you were weak. And weakness, as we all know, is despised. If you are a victim once, you will be a victim for life.
And let's not forget the way women are treated when they have the audacity to admit that they've been raped or *gasp* name their attackers. Like this.
So, yeah. I can understand why men wouldn't want to step forward. And I understand why women don't want to either.
What is WRONG with our society?
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Faith and Shoes
Organized religion is a funny thing. You would think that it would be easy. Go to church on Sunday, tithe what you are able, live your life in a Christ-like fashion. Show the world, through your actions, what it means to be a Christian and to live your life in perfect love.
You would think it would be easy, wouldn't you?
It's not. It's filled with politics, back biting, drama, anxiety. There are churches who embrace and love everyone with open and affirming arms, welcoming anyone in their doors. And then there are churches who preach hate and intolerance and will not allow homosexuals to visit.
The politics make it hard to keep your eye on what is important.
I have an idea in my mind of what my perfect church would be. It's an idea of what I think would make me happy in my religious experience, although I admit that it's unlikely that I'll ever really find it.
I want a church that is warm and welcoming and filled with love.
I want to walk through the doors and feel calm and content. I don't want to feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety and stress.
I want a relaxed atmosphere where I am surrounded by people who aren't just fellow parishioners but people who are friends.
I want to feel as though our group is just as comfortable holding our services outside in a park or the woods as we are holding them in a building. For that matter, I don't want a formal church building.
Oh, and the building has to have a good feel to it. We went to a church once and I always felt like I was suffocating...there was something broken with that building.
I want our group to be relaxed. I want to feel like I can come to church wearing jeans and a tanktop or my yoga pants and a t-shirt without being judged. I want to know that if Roland's clothes are messy (dude, he's a toddler, spit happens) no one will think twice about it.
I don't want our group to feel pressured to follow the same service structure every single week. We don't need to sing the same hymns.
I don't want to feel that people are judging me if I choose to not stand during church. Sometimes, I don't want to. I don't feel it's necessary for ME to worship.
I want to know that we can wear nice shoes or sandals or flipflops or ratty sneakers and no one will care.
I want a church that doesn't have any drama. I don't want back biting or infighting or other shitty behavior that will make me not want to go.
I know that's a pretty tough list, and I know there are things on there that will never be fulfilled. I just know that at the end of the day, I want a church where the importance is placed on the community we are fostering and the way we are living our lives.
Church shouldn't be about who is tithing the most and the politics. I feel like so many times, it isn't the spirituality and the faith that matters. It doesn't matter if you actually life your life in a Christ-like manner, as long as it appears that way on Sunday.
I don't want to be part of a church that doesn't encourage us to live our lives in the best way every day. I want to look forward to going to church every week. I want to feel uplifted and loved and inspired when I leave church.
I don't think that is too much to ask, do you?
Monday, April 8, 2013
Dachau
When I was 15, I had the opportunity to go to Europe for 18 days. I went with my high school English teacher and a group of kids from our school. It was an amazing trip. I saw beautiful and wonderful things. It was a once in a lifetime experience that I hope to share with my son and husband someday.
Dachau is hands down the the place that has stuck with me the most over the years.
It was a gorgeous day in Mid-June. The weather was just amazing. I remember it all with intense clarity, down to the way the sun looked like as it filtered down through the leaves. I remember being shocked at how beautiful and peaceful the place seemed, until we got inside the gates.
We made our way through the museum, and I bought a few books to bring home. I broke off from the group at this point. I was a bit of a loner for most of the trip, and this was one place I wanted to explore on my own.
It was surreal. Walking up and down between where the barracks stood, knowing what people had gone through there. Everything was very quiet. People were silent as they explored the camp and everything just seemed to be completely still.
The crematorium and the gas chambers were the hardest thing to see. I wasn't sure that I could go in there. I wasn't sure that I should. Eventually though, I made myself do it, because I thought that it was important that I see it.
It was beautiful and it was terrible. I spent most of the day in tears as I wandered around the camp, reading every little plaque and taking pictures so I would always have that reminder. It was a good place for me to see. It's a good place for anyone to see.
At the end of our trip, when we were in Amsterdam, we went to Anne Frank's house. I had a similar reaction as we wandered through the tiny attic where she lived.
Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. Someday, we'll take our children to the Holocaust museum in DC. We'll take them to Dachau. We'll take them to Anne Frank's house. We'll show them these places because it's important for them to know. It's important for them to see, for them to feel the pain that still radiates there.
Dachau is hands down the the place that has stuck with me the most over the years.
It was a gorgeous day in Mid-June. The weather was just amazing. I remember it all with intense clarity, down to the way the sun looked like as it filtered down through the leaves. I remember being shocked at how beautiful and peaceful the place seemed, until we got inside the gates.
We made our way through the museum, and I bought a few books to bring home. I broke off from the group at this point. I was a bit of a loner for most of the trip, and this was one place I wanted to explore on my own.
It was surreal. Walking up and down between where the barracks stood, knowing what people had gone through there. Everything was very quiet. People were silent as they explored the camp and everything just seemed to be completely still.
The crematorium and the gas chambers were the hardest thing to see. I wasn't sure that I could go in there. I wasn't sure that I should. Eventually though, I made myself do it, because I thought that it was important that I see it.
It was beautiful and it was terrible. I spent most of the day in tears as I wandered around the camp, reading every little plaque and taking pictures so I would always have that reminder. It was a good place for me to see. It's a good place for anyone to see.
At the end of our trip, when we were in Amsterdam, we went to Anne Frank's house. I had a similar reaction as we wandered through the tiny attic where she lived.
Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. Someday, we'll take our children to the Holocaust museum in DC. We'll take them to Dachau. We'll take them to Anne Frank's house. We'll show them these places because it's important for them to know. It's important for them to see, for them to feel the pain that still radiates there.
Dear Roland,
15 months is a little young to be tossing things in the toilet already, don't ya think? Yes, it's fun to watch things float and bob and swirl around, and yes it's even fun to dig in there and pull them out. However, it's not fun for Mommy. Nope, not really. I like my water...not in the toilet.
Please, let's not go down this path! There is no going back!
Love,
Mommy
Please, let's not go down this path! There is no going back!
Love,
Mommy
The Iron Lady
Margaret Thatcher passed away this morning after suffering another stroke.
Many people have different opinions on her politics. Many people hated her as a Prime Minister. Others adored her. Many women look up to her as the first and only female British Prime Minister. She's often seen as a bastion of the feminist movement.
She did many things in office. Some bad, some good, many of them memorable. But regardless of where you fall on the political spectrum, she was a well known woman.
And today, the internet is full of ass hattery.
Jokes about her death, people saying how happy they are she is dead, nasty and rude and mean and cruel comments that really show how horrible humans can be sometimes.
Let me make this abundantly clear: it is never a joyful thing when someone dies. It's never something that you should rejoice over. Death is tragic and sad.
There are times when a person may feel relieved at a death. Maybe when a loved one who has suffered for a long time finally finds a peaceful end. Or when someone like bin Laden is killed, and the direct threat from him is gone. Those are times when it's ok to be relieved.
But it's still not ok to be happy.
Death is natural and death comes to us all. There can be beauty and joy in death. There can be grace. There can be peace.
We do not have the right to rejoice when someone dies. I don't have the right to make jokes and point and laugh.
Margaret Thatcher had a family. She had friends, she had loved ones. People loved her, people hated her.
None of that gives anyone any right to laugh at her death. What does it say about a person if you point and laugh and make jokes at the pain and death of another person?
Many people have different opinions on her politics. Many people hated her as a Prime Minister. Others adored her. Many women look up to her as the first and only female British Prime Minister. She's often seen as a bastion of the feminist movement.
She did many things in office. Some bad, some good, many of them memorable. But regardless of where you fall on the political spectrum, she was a well known woman.
And today, the internet is full of ass hattery.
Jokes about her death, people saying how happy they are she is dead, nasty and rude and mean and cruel comments that really show how horrible humans can be sometimes.
Let me make this abundantly clear: it is never a joyful thing when someone dies. It's never something that you should rejoice over. Death is tragic and sad.
There are times when a person may feel relieved at a death. Maybe when a loved one who has suffered for a long time finally finds a peaceful end. Or when someone like bin Laden is killed, and the direct threat from him is gone. Those are times when it's ok to be relieved.
But it's still not ok to be happy.
Death is natural and death comes to us all. There can be beauty and joy in death. There can be grace. There can be peace.
We do not have the right to rejoice when someone dies. I don't have the right to make jokes and point and laugh.
Margaret Thatcher had a family. She had friends, she had loved ones. People loved her, people hated her.
None of that gives anyone any right to laugh at her death. What does it say about a person if you point and laugh and make jokes at the pain and death of another person?
Prayin' the Gay away
(Alright, I fail miserably today, apparently. The article reference below is apparently just satire. *facepalm* I feel like a dumb ass. However, I'm leaving the post up cause, well...I could see it happening. So, just a fair warning!)
As a parent, I have a lot of responsibilities. To teach my child right from wrong, to instill the moral compass that he will need to succeed in life. To offer him as many opportunities as I can, to help him excel in life and whatever he wants to do. To care for him and hold him and nurture him, physically and emotionally and spiritually.
To love him unconditionally, no matter what he decides to do with his life, and who he becomes. Maybe down the line he'll realize that he's gay. Or maybe he'll realize that he should have been born as a woman. Or maybe he'll be a Republican. No matter what he does, though, I will always love him. He is my son. That's one of the many responsibilities you agree to when you bring that little baby home from the hospital.
This couple obviously missed that memo. They have put their 16 year old daughter up for adoption. Pretty ridiculous, huh? Why would you do that when your child is 16 and close to being on their own anyway? Oh yeah, 'cause she's GAY. And we all know that being gay is such a major, horrible, terrible thing. /sarcasm
I'm trying to wrap my brain around this and I am failing miserably. I know that there are many legitimate reasons for putting your child up for adoption...although I still think doing it when they are 16 is a little strange, no matter what the circumstance. But doing it because they are gay? Because their life choices are different than yours?
It breaks my heart. This poor, poor little girl. I just hope that she finds a wonderful family who will nurture her and love her and support her through the difficult years ahead of her. The teen years aren't easy for anyone. Especially for a teen who comes to realize that he or she is gay/bi-sexual/transgender. She needs support and love and yes, she needs prayers...but not prayers that are aimed at getting her to change her mind or shove herself into a box where she doesn't fit.
I'm sorry, but these parents are terrible people. They're better people than a couple that would say, kill their daughter for being gay. But they're still terrible people and terrible parents. Yeah, I can understand the shock...I can understand the worry and the dismay that your child will not be following your particular beliefs. But, let's think about this for a moment. If you are people who would be willing to give your child up for adoption for being gay, then you are likely a couple that is against gay marriage and homosexuals in general. And most people are going to be vocal enough that their child will KNOW how they feel about homosexuals.
And she came out to them anyway.
Good for her. Good for that brave and likely terrified little girl.
And to her parents? They should be ashamed of themselves.
As a parent, I have a lot of responsibilities. To teach my child right from wrong, to instill the moral compass that he will need to succeed in life. To offer him as many opportunities as I can, to help him excel in life and whatever he wants to do. To care for him and hold him and nurture him, physically and emotionally and spiritually.
To love him unconditionally, no matter what he decides to do with his life, and who he becomes. Maybe down the line he'll realize that he's gay. Or maybe he'll realize that he should have been born as a woman. Or maybe he'll be a Republican. No matter what he does, though, I will always love him. He is my son. That's one of the many responsibilities you agree to when you bring that little baby home from the hospital.
This couple obviously missed that memo. They have put their 16 year old daughter up for adoption. Pretty ridiculous, huh? Why would you do that when your child is 16 and close to being on their own anyway? Oh yeah, 'cause she's GAY. And we all know that being gay is such a major, horrible, terrible thing. /sarcasm
I'm trying to wrap my brain around this and I am failing miserably. I know that there are many legitimate reasons for putting your child up for adoption...although I still think doing it when they are 16 is a little strange, no matter what the circumstance. But doing it because they are gay? Because their life choices are different than yours?
It breaks my heart. This poor, poor little girl. I just hope that she finds a wonderful family who will nurture her and love her and support her through the difficult years ahead of her. The teen years aren't easy for anyone. Especially for a teen who comes to realize that he or she is gay/bi-sexual/transgender. She needs support and love and yes, she needs prayers...but not prayers that are aimed at getting her to change her mind or shove herself into a box where she doesn't fit.
I'm sorry, but these parents are terrible people. They're better people than a couple that would say, kill their daughter for being gay. But they're still terrible people and terrible parents. Yeah, I can understand the shock...I can understand the worry and the dismay that your child will not be following your particular beliefs. But, let's think about this for a moment. If you are people who would be willing to give your child up for adoption for being gay, then you are likely a couple that is against gay marriage and homosexuals in general. And most people are going to be vocal enough that their child will KNOW how they feel about homosexuals.
And she came out to them anyway.
Good for her. Good for that brave and likely terrified little girl.
And to her parents? They should be ashamed of themselves.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
I hear a lot about the 'War on Women.' We see a lot of it in the news. From women who are told that as 12-year olds, they're to blame for their rape to states such as Kansas and North Dakota passing more stringent abortion laws.
Here's the thing. I'm pro-choice. I will always be pro-choice. That does not mean I'm 'pro dead baby' or 'pro death.' It means that I respect and support that every woman (and man--takes two to tango) has the right to make her own choice.
It's not an easy choice for any woman to make. No one grows up with the thought, 'Oh man, I can't wait until I get older and I can have an abortion! Won't that be FUN?!' Women have abortions every day for a wide variety of reasons.
Some do it because they were stupid and made a mistake.
Some do it because they are in an abusive relationship and can't stand the thought of bringing a child into that kind of environment.
Some women have children already, and can't afford any more.
Some women find themselves pregnant with a child that is wanted and they've discovered that there is something drastically wrong with the child.
It's not an easy choice for a woman to make. The choice is made all the more difficult by people who treat her like shit because of her decision.
Can you imagine being pregnant and wanting that child desperately, and discovering that there is something wrong? I have nothing but respect for the women who choose to carry pregnancies that they know will result in the death of their child. I have just as much respect for the woman who chooses to terminate a pregnancy so that she can spare her child as much suffering as possible.
Not every abortion is the result of booze and promiscuity.
France has adopted a new policy on birth control and abortion. Abortions up to 12 weeks are legal for anyone, and are completely paid for. After 12 weeks, an abortion will only be performed with the consent of two physicians and only in the case of danger to the mothers life or a severe and terminal birth defect. Girls aged 15-18 have access to free and anonymous birth control. The idea is that the latter will help with the former.
I like their idea on abortion. Obviously, in this country, they will never be free. That's ok. But I like the rest of it. In France, women have to wait a week before having an abortion performed, although the time limit can be lifted if a woman is nearing the 12-week mark.
As for birth control...if we made birth control readily available to anyone for free or very inexpensive, I think there would be a huge drop in abortions. Make it so women can get birth control without jumping through hoops, without being humiliated, without feeling like society thinks they're whores or that they're only good for popping out babies. Let them go to Planned Parenthood without having to wade through protesters who make them feel terrible.
Sex is fun. Sex should be fun. We have the technology, we have the ability to prevent unwanted pregnancies. And yes, it's each persons responsibility to prevent those unwanted pregnancies. We should not be made to feel guilty for taking those precautions. And if they fail? We should not be made to feel guilty for making the choice to not bring a life into this world.
I read an article the other day about how abortion and gay marriage used to be on similar standing. These days, gay marriage is becoming more and more acceptable (YAY!) while abortion is still a totally taboo topic. It comes down to the fact that women are afraid to admit when they've had an abortion. I think they're even afraid to admit that they've ever even considered it. It doesn't come up in conversation, women don't 'come out of the closet' and admit to having had an abortion.
It's estimated that 22% of pregnancies end in abortion. 1.21 million in 2008. There's a pretty damn good chance that we all know at least one woman who has had an abortion.
I know there are people out there who say that abortion should be completely outlawed. They say that these unwanted children should be given up for adoption, or that the parents should just suck it up. That women need to be more careful, and that if they really don't want to get pregnant--they just shouldn't have sex.
Although I've never tried it, my understanding is that adopting a child in the US is incredibly difficult. Even though there are many people who would love to adopt, there are always children who are never able to find families. So that is just putting more children in the foster system.
So, yeah. I'm pro-choice. It's not a choice that I could make, but I can completely understand why that choice would be made. And if we want to see the abortion rate drop? Then guilting women and badgering them and making their lives a living hell is not the way to do it.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
The Power of Prayer-Faith, part 2
I'm sure most people find this to be incredibly hokey. Prayer doesn't heal people, prayer doesn't save, science and medicine is what fixes our ailments.
I suppose I should clarify first. I believe in the collective unconscious I think that we are all connected. Sometimes, I wonder if we believe in God because he exists...or if he exists because we believe in him. Now before anyone gets huffy, hear me out on this. If no one believed in God, if no one thought about him at all, then he would cease to be. Epic disasters that are chalked up to him would be dismissed as nature. Miracles that are attributed to him would be considered great feats of science. Most things in our world CAN be explained away, if you try hard enough.
Not that that is ever likely to happen.
I feel that many people need that divine power and that guiding light. It's not that we need God to teach us right from wrong, though there are some good morals in the bible (and yes, there are some negative parts as well.) It's that we need God as a reason to connect to other people.
Humans are social creatures, right? That's pretty obvious in this day and age with Twitter and Facebook and G+ and e-mail and the myriad of ways that we have to stay connected. Religion, at one point, was one of the only ways that people had to connect with one another. They worked six days out of the week and took that seventh day to visit with others. Many people go to church because they require that sense of community that they are able to find.
Myself, I have a hard time finding that sense of community in a church. I know that my church is out there somewhere, just waiting for me to find it. It's probably some crazy hippy church that meets in a meadow of wildflowers or something. I can totally dig it.
So people need community. That's why many people need religion and need faith. Personally, I think that the community that a church can offer is WAY more important than the spiritual message. Coffee and cookies are good for the soul...and while an inspiring sermon can be as well, if you are someone who doesn't grasp what is being said (I have a hell of a time following lectures and sermons and such, and I'm not a theologian, so sometimes things just don't click) then the coffee and cookies are what feed you. That's what feeds many people. That's why churches that don't have a thriving community to back them up eventually wither and die.
So anyway. The power of prayer.
I don't think that anyone can deny that positive thoughts are more productive than negative ones. You may not see many miraculous healings...but you do see people getting better. You see them FEEL better, because there is power in prayer. Through the collective unconscious.
This is another topic that people will disagree with, and that's ok. I don't expect anyone to believe what I believe. Faith is unique to each person, we all find the way that fits us best. My faith is different than my husband's and it will be different than my children's. I will encourage our children to find their own way, and find what feels best for them. That may be atheism, or they may be Pastafarians, or Jewish or Buddhist or whatever is best for them.
I suppose I should clarify first. I believe in the collective unconscious I think that we are all connected. Sometimes, I wonder if we believe in God because he exists...or if he exists because we believe in him. Now before anyone gets huffy, hear me out on this. If no one believed in God, if no one thought about him at all, then he would cease to be. Epic disasters that are chalked up to him would be dismissed as nature. Miracles that are attributed to him would be considered great feats of science. Most things in our world CAN be explained away, if you try hard enough.
Not that that is ever likely to happen.
I feel that many people need that divine power and that guiding light. It's not that we need God to teach us right from wrong, though there are some good morals in the bible (and yes, there are some negative parts as well.) It's that we need God as a reason to connect to other people.
Humans are social creatures, right? That's pretty obvious in this day and age with Twitter and Facebook and G+ and e-mail and the myriad of ways that we have to stay connected. Religion, at one point, was one of the only ways that people had to connect with one another. They worked six days out of the week and took that seventh day to visit with others. Many people go to church because they require that sense of community that they are able to find.
Myself, I have a hard time finding that sense of community in a church. I know that my church is out there somewhere, just waiting for me to find it. It's probably some crazy hippy church that meets in a meadow of wildflowers or something. I can totally dig it.
So people need community. That's why many people need religion and need faith. Personally, I think that the community that a church can offer is WAY more important than the spiritual message. Coffee and cookies are good for the soul...and while an inspiring sermon can be as well, if you are someone who doesn't grasp what is being said (I have a hell of a time following lectures and sermons and such, and I'm not a theologian, so sometimes things just don't click) then the coffee and cookies are what feed you. That's what feeds many people. That's why churches that don't have a thriving community to back them up eventually wither and die.
So anyway. The power of prayer.
I don't think that anyone can deny that positive thoughts are more productive than negative ones. You may not see many miraculous healings...but you do see people getting better. You see them FEEL better, because there is power in prayer. Through the collective unconscious.
This is another topic that people will disagree with, and that's ok. I don't expect anyone to believe what I believe. Faith is unique to each person, we all find the way that fits us best. My faith is different than my husband's and it will be different than my children's. I will encourage our children to find their own way, and find what feels best for them. That may be atheism, or they may be Pastafarians, or Jewish or Buddhist or whatever is best for them.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Faith
This post is partly for me, to help me get my thoughts out on paper, and partly for a dear friend of mine. He challenges my beliefs (but never in a bad way) and sometimes, it's easier for me to say, 'Here. This is what I believe. This is why I believe it.'
I don't care for organized religion, as a general rule. Church is not easy for me for many reasons. I often feel out of place in the congregation and uncomfortable. Most of the time, I feel like people who are socializing with me are doing it out of a sense of obligation and out of no real desire to welcome me.
Many times, I feel like I am being judged. And that's before I tell them anything about myself.
I am usually afraid to be myself in church. I don't want to talk about my hobbies--gaming and SCA--because I don't want to be judged. I feel uncomfortable because I have body piercings (I was at Sunday School once, and a lady was going on and on and on about how body modifications are evil.) I don't feel like I can be me at church. When I talk about my thoughts on gay marriage and abortion and all of the other social issues, I worry that I'm going to be judged. Or worse, told to not come back to church.
If it were just me, I wouldn't give a crap. I would be myself and let my freak flag fly and never worry about it. But with the situation Colin is in, I can't really do that. I have to be perfect, because I'm the future Pastor's Wife. It's a very tense thing for me.
I don't find any joy in church. Sometimes, I find beauty in the music or in the message. I don't find the sense of community that many find. I'm sure a lot of that is because I feel obligated to go.
Anyway. I'm not a fan of organized religion. This is well established.
Despite all of that, I am a very spiritual person.
So this friend of mine is an atheist. Which, of course, I am perfectly fine with. It's hard for me to describe my faith and my personal religion, though.
Why do I believe?
Most things in the world can be explained by science. There are hard facts to back it up. I readily admit all of this.
I know that there is something more. I know it when I cuddle my little baby. I know it when I see the amazing night sky that you get in the middle of nowhere. I feel it when I am surrounded by friends and loved ones, and I know that I am safe and loved.
I know that you can't prove it. There isn't anything physical that you can grab and touch and poke at. But that doesn't mean that it isn't there, and it doesn't mean that it isn't real.
Not everyone has that same feeling. And that's ok.
I don't believe that God is some omnipotent being that sits up there and pokes at us like we're puppets. We're not his personal playthings. He doesn't screw up our lives for fun. I don't believe that God is very hands on at all.
People have said before, 'If God is real, why do horrible things happen? Why does he allow us to suffer?' We were given free will. We have the ability and the right to choose our lives and our own destinies. Sometimes those choices have horrible consequences.
Sometimes people do horrible things. Sometimes they even do them in the name of religion and God.
I don't think God would appreciate that very much.
So why do I believe? Why do I have my faith? Because for me it just feels right. I don't care for church, but I pray and I worship in my own way. I commune with God privately every day, in the little things that happen in my life.
I feel like I would be lonely without that presence of the divine in my life. Call it God or Goddess or Flying Spaghetti Monster, that is your personal choice. But for me, personally, having a greater power--even if it is an ambivalent power that rarely touches our lives--gives me a sense of comfort.
I have faith because it is warm, because it is comfortable and because it makes me happy. There are many things in the Bible and in organized religion that I do not agree with and will never agree with. But I have my faith and I hold on to my faith. My faith has in part made me who I am today.
I don't know if this actually offers any explanation or if it's just more confusing.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Oh where is my hairbrush!
My child is so odd at times.
My dad has long hair. He's kinda a hippy like that. And he keeps his hair brush in the living room on the table next to his seat. That's just where it lives. Roland loves playing with Grandpa's brush. It's seriously one of his favorite toys in this house that is bursting at the seams with little boy play things.
He loves to brush other peoples hair. Including the dogs, although I don't think Piper much appreciates that. He doesn't quite know how to do it right, but he definitely gives it a good college try. And luckily, it doesn't hurt too much...he has yet to tangle the brush in my hair, so I count myself lucky.
And he loves to have his hair brushed. He'll bring the brush over to you and set it on your lap and then lay his head down on your leg. That's when you know you're in for a lengthy hair brushing. So you brush and brush his hair and he lays there and coos and is totally content. Sometimes, he practically falls asleep on you.
Tonight, I spent half an hour brushing his hair and his back. He really seems the love the feel of the hair brush, even when I was just running the bristles over his back and neck, he was still totally content. I tried to urge him to sit up on my lap, but no...he wanted to stand there with his head on my leg. It's really sweet and adorable and loving, even if it is a little odd.
He definitely has some quirks. This is one of them.
Did i mention that he hardly has any hair at all? Yeah, he's got some cute little curls in the back, but up on top he is pretty damn bald. Hopefully this means that he won't fight the brush when he's older...
My dad has long hair. He's kinda a hippy like that. And he keeps his hair brush in the living room on the table next to his seat. That's just where it lives. Roland loves playing with Grandpa's brush. It's seriously one of his favorite toys in this house that is bursting at the seams with little boy play things.
He loves to brush other peoples hair. Including the dogs, although I don't think Piper much appreciates that. He doesn't quite know how to do it right, but he definitely gives it a good college try. And luckily, it doesn't hurt too much...he has yet to tangle the brush in my hair, so I count myself lucky.
And he loves to have his hair brushed. He'll bring the brush over to you and set it on your lap and then lay his head down on your leg. That's when you know you're in for a lengthy hair brushing. So you brush and brush his hair and he lays there and coos and is totally content. Sometimes, he practically falls asleep on you.
Tonight, I spent half an hour brushing his hair and his back. He really seems the love the feel of the hair brush, even when I was just running the bristles over his back and neck, he was still totally content. I tried to urge him to sit up on my lap, but no...he wanted to stand there with his head on my leg. It's really sweet and adorable and loving, even if it is a little odd.
He definitely has some quirks. This is one of them.
Did i mention that he hardly has any hair at all? Yeah, he's got some cute little curls in the back, but up on top he is pretty damn bald. Hopefully this means that he won't fight the brush when he's older...
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