tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10650516496798798792024-03-13T03:15:20.114-07:00Girl on SaturdayKaren is a writer/speaker/trouble-maker/empowerment advocate/image activist/lifestyle personality/caller-out of bullshit mother of 7 who has no time for stupidity. <br>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-90890515220507904772015-09-30T09:38:00.002-07:002015-09-30T09:38:25.155-07:00No Such Thing as a Failed Marriage"<em>I am 45 with two failed marriages!</em>" my friend asserted while in a full self-pity spiral. As if the number of years she has been on the planet plus the number of times <strong>she has believed in a relationship</strong> somehow means she will never find love or be worthy of respect again. I couldn't believe it. This was a smart, strong, dynamic woman who had worked hard at not one, but two separate marriages – each one lasting over 10 years. Yet in this moment, she was reducing herself to her two "failures".<br />
That, my friends, is the <em>mother-fucking bullshit</em>.<br />
And we are fed this bullshit at every turn. Admit it – when you hear that someone has been divorced, especially more than once, you wonder <em>“what is wrong with them?” . </em>Even if just for a moment. Of course you do – it is how we are taught to look at divorce. <br />
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“<em>Divorce is for the weak: those who are not really trying, those who never took it seriously enough in the first place. Divorced people are damaged people.</em>”</blockquote>
<strong>No. Untrue. False. </strong><br />
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There is nothing inherently wrong with people who have been divorced. They are simply people who got married, then let go of that marriage when it no longer made sense for them too be in that marriage. Divorce takes introspection, it takes advocating for yourself, and it takes courage. I propose that when we hear someone has been divorced, instead of concluding there is something wrong with them, we conclude <strong>there is something right with them</strong>. They are living <strong>mindfully </strong>and they are <strong>not afraid of changing </strong>when they are in a situation that no longer serves them.<br />
And if I see one more headline from <a href="http://jezebel.com/">jezebel.com</a>, et al., Saying some shit like "<em>this breakup proves love is dead!</em>" I am going to make it my personal mission to make sure I prove <a href="http://jezebel.com/">jezebel.com</a> is dead. <strong>Oh my God! </strong>You said it about <a href="http://jezebel.com/its-official-jennifer-garner-and-ben-affleck-have-file-1715004042" target="_blank">Jen and Ben</a>, <a href="http://jezebel.com/love-and-comedy-are-both-dead-amy-poehler-and-nick-kro-1732539329" target="_blank">Amy and Nick</a>, <a href="http://jezebel.com/rainbow-disconnected-kermit-the-frog-and-miss-piggy-ha-1722036522" target="_blank">Kermit and Miss Piggy</a>, for the love of all that is true and right in this world! Posting pictures of them happy and together and noting they are no longer together does not mean love is freaking dead - it actually means it is very much alive! <br />
And, to be clear, I am not just talking about marriage here. Whether or not you are married, <strong>maintaining an intimate relationship is an accomplishment.</strong> Being made to feel badly about choosing to move on is (in case we need reminding) complete BULLSHIT.<br />
The social handcuffs of shame that accompany divorce have simply got to come off. Let's stop wearing them. Let's stop putting them on other people. Let's stop thinking of relationships ending as a tragedy and start thinking of them as what they are, relationships that have run their course. Change and transition are hard enough, no one dealing with that needs to have your stinky judgement heaped on top of their imminent life change.<br />
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I was once married to a man who tried to shame me into thinking I could never leave him: "<em>You have two kids with two different fathers,</em>" he would say. "<em>You can't leave me without appearing very white-trash.</em>" Interesting. By the way, <strong>I did leave him</strong>, and I also had two more kids with a new (and awesome) man. And my white-trash life has never been better. Letting go of that relationship that worked to cut me down instead of build me up was the best decision I have ever made for myself.<br />
And I would call that the opposite of failure.<br />
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Related: <a href="http://girlonsaturday.blogspot.com/2011/06/five-steps-to-great-divorce.html" target="_blank">Five Steps to a Great Divorce</a>!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-29961375913970584342015-09-24T05:41:00.000-07:002015-09-24T06:57:04.267-07:00What’s Scarier than Planned Parenthood?<span style="font-size: small;">In the mid-1990s Planned Parenthood was a crazy place. An anti-abortionist had gunned down the Brookline, MA office, killing two, injuring another and the anti-abortion protests were becoming so plentiful and frequent - they would often shut down the street. And of course, I was right there living in the middle of it all. <strong>Everyday </strong>I had to walk by grotesque imagery of charred and mangled fetuses held by an angry mob. Because of the recent killings, the city posted an officer to watch over the chaos. I asked the officer if he could enforce some dignity and get the protesters to take down their horrific signs. After all, this was a public place and children often walked this route to school. He rolled his eyes and replied "<strong>Free speech</strong>".</span><br />
So I stepped into a convenience store, purchased a Hustler magazine, and re-emerged in the middle of the mob holding the <strong>wide open centerfold</strong>, featuring a <strong>well-groomed totally-in-your-face close-up</strong>, high above my head. The protesters, confused and upset by human biology, quickly moved away, to distance their signs from mine. Of course I followed. The officer approached, angry, and he ordered me to "<strong>Drop the Hustler magazine!</strong>". Of course I didn’t. Instead, I simply said: "<strong>Free speech.</strong>"<br />
The weary-looking officer retreated to his vehicle, picked up his radio, and after a few moments returned. This time he asked <b>everyone </b>to leave. And the protesters with their horrific signs were never a problem for me again.<br />
Free speech indeed.<br />
But what does it say about our society when a picture of a woman's healthy vagina is scarier than images of mutilation? What does it say when Anti-abortion activists have gripped law enforcement so tightly by the balls that <i>that grip </i>in itself could serve as birth control? And how can we be so fervently obsessed with controlling a woman's womb, but when a happy vagina hops onto the scene, everyone runs away?<br />
I don't know the answers to these questions, but I am clearly not above exploiting the fear of the VAGINA.<br />
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vagina_dentata" target="_blank">Vagina fear is real</a>; just bring up your fully functioning uterus if you ever want to clear out a room.<br />
So I suppose I can understand how a police officer could be cool with horrific, bloody images intended to incite outrage while simultaneously getting his panties in a bunch about a grown woman showing off her immaculately primped vagina - we're talking a precision-trimmed landing strip, people. But I digress.<br />
What I <em>don't understand </em>is why protesters were at Planned Parenthood anyway. Abortion is legal. And at Planned Parenthood, abortion is safe. If you want it to become illegal, protest at the state house - not the healthcare facility. I don’t see the folks who want gun control protesting at gun stores (or Walmart), holding up pictures of Sandy Hook aftermath – that wouldn't make much sense.<br />
It is almost as if the protesters who stood outside Planned Parenthood that day were <strong>getting off</strong> on scaring, intimidating and <strong>flaunting their power over women</strong> who were at a vulnerable time in their lives. Women who were seeking safe, legal and affordable health services. Huh.<br />
In fact, after the murders that took place at Planned Parenthood, it almost seemed as if saving lives was not as important to the protesters as keeping women in their place. It is hard to climb the corporate ladder and challenge those at the top, or start a revolution, or even write a freaking blog - when you are also raising children. Huh.<br />
There is a lot to think about, but one thing is certain: if you want to stop bullies who believe women have no jurisdiction over their own bodies, <strong>scare them with vaginas</strong>. Lots of vaginas. Running wild and free. Stampeding across the plains.<br />
<img alt="ActiVagi" border="0" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-saxGiFIoLcE/VgLnjQCoiPI/AAAAAAAAA9U/8fBrVHVy5So/ActiVagi%25255B3%25255D.png?imgmax=800" height="219" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline;" title="ActiVagi" width="244" /> <br />
The word is out people. Help me spread it like a centerfold.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-76416066602571449932015-06-28T06:54:00.000-07:002015-09-24T07:06:04.412-07:00Walk with Grace, and Other Shit to Say to Your Kids<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SVHxeJMef98/VY__XDR5VkI/AAAAAAAAA8M/lhEVWj8Dulo/s1600/216824_10150267617432299_4282754_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SVHxeJMef98/VY__XDR5VkI/AAAAAAAAA8M/lhEVWj8Dulo/s320/216824_10150267617432299_4282754_n.jpg" width="212" /></a><br />
Sometimes parenting is just what happens when you are doing other things. We snap "Put that down!" in the grocery store. We spell words for emerging writers while making dinner. We manage to squeeze in meaningful conversations while driving. But if we want to practice mindful parenting, it is good to have some phrases <em>at the ready</em> to convey our ideology. We may fuck-up a lot as parents, but my husband and I have collected some handy phrases to help out in tough moments. Feel free to borrow any you like.<br />
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Walk with grace.</h3>
This is a big one in our house. We say it a lot. In fact, we say it almost every time our kids are leaving to interact with the outside world. To be clear, this is not a phrase about polished manners. In our house, you can dance on the tables - but you can't be a jerk. Our kids know that when we say this we mean we want them to leave the world better than they found it.<br />
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Are you thinking about what you <em>do</em> have, or what you <em>don’t </em>have?</h3>
Classic. This one applies to pretty much every situation you can think of. If you are thinking about what you already have, you probably need very little. It is a beautiful concept.<br />
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<br />All colors are for <em>all </em>people.</h3>
This one is more specific, and applies when kids get caught up in gender marketing. When your three-year-old refuses to ride a bike because it is blue and she is a girl, remind her of this truism. It is nice because it also encourages out-of-the-box thinking.<br />
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<br />Pick up what you drop.</h3>
You can say this 100 times a day if you live in our house, but it is more than just for objects hitting the floor. Pick up what you drop; fix what you break; clean up your mess; throw empty containers in recycling; replace what you consume.<br />
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Treat people the way you want to be treated.</h3>
Ah, the old standby. But this one can be tricky because if you if you have clever kids as I do, who might say: "<em>She </em>was mean to me, so that must be how <em>she </em>wants to be treated. I am giving her what she wants!" You have to shut that down right away. It does not matter at all how someone else acts. It only matters that you treat people how you would like to be treated. Always be true to that. Which leads me to:<br />
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Our choices are independent of others’.</h3>
We act in a way that is right for us, <strong>regardless of what other people do</strong>. We can still choose to respond with calm in the face of an aggressor, if that is <em>who we choose to be</em>. This helps shut down the “<em>he did it to me first,</em>” and helps each child recognize the actions they own.<br />
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Take responsibility for your actions.</h3>
If you did it, own up to it. Getting a lot of practice hiding or sneaking around when breaking the rules will only lead to more, bigger problems later in life. In our house the consequence for breaking a rule is small compared to what happens when you break a rule and try to hide evidence or deny your part in it.<br />
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Flexibility leads to happiness.</h3>
It sure does. Use this little gem for every argument over where to sit, what cup to use, what activity to do... I like this because I think about them recalling this wisdom as grown ups why don't get upset over small things.<br />
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Sometimes it is okay not to talk.</h3>
Again, if you have clever kids who think they can talk their way out of anything (and often can) - it is nice to remind them that being silent and listening is a wonderful thing.<br />
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What is your part in this?</h3>
Yeah, this one is huge. Maybe the most important. I hear you saying your teacher hates you, but what is <strong>your part </strong>in that dynamic? Your friends are so mean to you when they come to your house? Huh. What is your part in that? If you want to throw in some math speak and you have more than one example, you can use this one: <strong>What are the constants and what are the variables?</strong><br />
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We are here for experience, not acquisition.</h3>
A mantra you really need if you live in any civilization, especially one that holds the sacred well-placed gift shops. When you kids try to tell you the aquarium is not about how animals survive and co-exist in the water, it is about taking home a whale bracelet and a stuffed narwhal, shut that shit down right away with this pre-rehearsed phrase. Believe me, it will save you from having to have a yard sale in three years to thin out your stuffed animal herd. I like this because it will ultimately lead them to realize that <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2014/10/buy-experiences/381132/" target="_blank">stuff doesn't make you happy, memories do</a>.<br />
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I am your MOTHER.</h3>
My husband/editor frequently sits in shocked disbelief when I use this one, especially because it works so well. You have to get the intonation right here. You have to both increase the intensity (the amount of air you’re exhaling) and lower the volume with each word. It’s the semantic equivalent of “how dare you!” The overall effect should be one that inspires reverence, as in: “I hold a sacred and powerful position in your life that must be honored. Nay, worshiped.” This works because I believe this to be true, so they do as well. You get the respect you think you deserve.<br />
<em><span style="color: #5d5d5d;">[Editor’s note: I’ve been practicing the “I am your father” version of this, but still getting a lot of eye-rolls from the kids]</span></em><br />
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Is that the kind of person you want to be?</h3>
I like to use this one after summarizing what someone has just done - possibly with the slightest hint of hyperbole - encourages a reflection that we then hope changes their course. It is actually a phrase I think we all should use all the time. Lying about your kid's age for a cheaper ticket price? Is that the kind of person you want to be? Avoiding eye contact with destitute people asking for help? Is that the kind of person you want to be? Hiding chocolate behind the washing machine? Is that the kind of person you want to be? For me the answer to the last one is <strong>yes</strong>.<br />
<span style="color: #5d5d5d;"><em>[Editor’s note: Thanks honey for revealing the secret location of that yummy treat!]</em></span><br />
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Give your body what it needs.</h3>
We use this one because it covers the most ground. Because “you have to eat veggies to be healthy” leaves room for debate. Tired parents often give the stupidest advice you can imagine: “Eat your pizza and you can have some frozen yogurt”. When we don't know what we are saying, it is good to cover the situation with a blanket statement and move on.<br />
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Are you being a gracious host?</h3>
It’s nice to remind everyone that it is a good idea to take care of others, especially when you have home court advantage. Make sure your guests feel comfortable and welcome. That is more important than having the first turn or the best seat or the biggest piece of cake.<br />
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More appreciation. Less expectation.</h3>
There it is, right there people. The key to happiness in one phrase. The more you appreciate life, the happier you are. The more you remove expectations about how you think others should act, the happier you are. This one is simple and beautiful and my husband and I use it as much as a reminder to ourselves as we do to the kids.<br />
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So what are you going to do about that?</h3>
Sometimes it is nice to just shift personal responsibility back onto the kid. This is especially useful for kids who use phrases like: “I don’t know how to ________”.<br />
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You’re smart. Figure it out. You Got this. </h3>
My favorite reply to: “How am I supposed to _______?”<br />
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You can do anything you want. Except pull on the curtains.</h3>
I love this phrase, and say it all the time to the young ones. <strong>You are powerful, but take care of your world.</strong><br />
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We love you no matter what.</h3>
You’re safe, and you’re cared for. Deeply. It doesn’t matter who you choose to be, you will always be loved. This is the only phrase anyone ever really needs. Say it loud; say it often. Even when – <em>especially when </em>– you are mad at those little fuckers. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-61110063796913953962015-02-25T11:53:00.000-08:002015-02-25T11:53:43.344-08:00Target - What the Fuck Were You Thinking?!?!?Target, you know I love you, I really do. You manage to make shopping in a big box store fun and pretty, I can check a whole bunch of things off my list with one visit, and that dog with the eye-circle is super cute - <strong>but you really stepped in it this time</strong>. Like, <strong>you better throw those shoes away</strong> stepped in it.<br />
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This was in the girls section, size 7-14:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6JpnmUogUU0/VOtpDkVVI5I/AAAAAAAAA5o/lOjTUp5ejeU/s1600/10986904_10153288742543814_2548623269936027296_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6JpnmUogUU0/VOtpDkVVI5I/AAAAAAAAA5o/lOjTUp5ejeU/s1600/10986904_10153288742543814_2548623269936027296_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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While I am relieved this atrocity is in the clearance section, meaning that consumers are not buying the bullshit your clothes-purchasers thought we should be wearing, I have to ask myself <strong>who thought this was a good idea?</strong> Which executive at Target was all like: <br />
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"Hey, when looking at girls age 7-14, I want to put thoughts of dating and availability in the heads of adults and other children."</blockquote>
It seems like your executive clothing buyers are lacking a little common sense at the decision table. Here are some things to consider as you move forward with the objective of selling adorable fashions to young people (letting go of the objective of setting women and girls back 50-100,000 years, which I am sure Target does not want to do.Well, pretty sure).<br />
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1. Young people do not benefit from sexual pressure.<br />
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Honestly, what Brainiac thought to themselves:<br />
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“Huh. You know what is funny? Little girls dating. What hook-up/courtship kind of attire would really get these girls in that seven-year-old age-appropriate <strong>‘I need a man’</strong> mindset? I just don't think the princess culture has done enough.</blockquote>
2. Young people are not defined by their dating status.<br />
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Who wears their dating status branded across their chest? I mean, a grown person looking for some immediate sexual attention, maybe (no judgment – do what you gotta do). But a first-through-eighth grader wearing a shirt with their hookup status branded across developing breasts, as if that is the most important thing they have to say about themselves? Get real.<br />
3. Target seems like an odd place to advertise young girls.<br />
That’s not a typo. I didn’t mean advertise TO young girls. I actually meant advertise the young girls themselves. What does this shirt say if not "Young girls in our community are available; make them an offer?"<br />
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That is just gross Target. Knock it off.<br />
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4. If it seems weird to put the same message on a boy’s shirt, then it’s weird to put it on a girl’s shirt.<br />
It was one thing when we saw "Superhero" shirts for boys and "Super Sweetie" shirts for girls, or "Genius" shirts for boy and "Future Mrs. Bieber" shirts for girls, but advertising sexual or romantic availability on young, developing bodies is so super creepy. Target, you have to see that.<br />
Let's just keep it simple. <strong>If you wouldn't do it for a boy, don't do it for a girl</strong>. While the issues of gender and identity are deep and layered, this rule is easy. Please use it.<br />
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Thanks Target. I am sure this will never happen again, and this little guide I’ve created for you will be put to good use. Please hurry because I am in need of some stylish yet affordable fashion, without having to prostitute my daughter.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-67539245756609831482014-12-05T12:47:00.001-08:002014-12-05T12:47:59.389-08:00My Five-year-old Wants to be a Single Mother<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LeH34JXYFJU/VIIZpQIhRpI/AAAAAAAAA38/r_QeB49TSPU/s1600/GiaWithDolls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LeH34JXYFJU/VIIZpQIhRpI/AAAAAAAAA38/r_QeB49TSPU/s1600/GiaWithDolls.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
My five-year-old daughter and I were discussing weddings and dance parties. I was feeling good about my open-minded parenting skills when I turned to her and said: "Well, if you choose to get married some day, you can have a disco ball at your wedding, too."<br /><br />I am careful to <strong>never mention gender </strong>when I talk about <strong>partnering</strong>. I am always clear that there are no expectations on who they may couple with when they become adults, or if they choose to couple at all. I use <strong>inclusive language</strong>, I let them know <strong>I love them no matter what</strong>. I am a supportive and a great mom.<br /><br /><strong>Or so I thought</strong>. <br />
Because in that moment, I got blindsided with a response that totally took me by surprise.<br /><br /><br />
"<strong>Actually,</strong>" my sweet little girl looked me in the eye, ever-so-matter-of-factly, "<strong>I am going to be a single mom</strong>."<br /><br />Zoinks! <br />
I did not see that coming. And I am not proud of my first thoughts:<br />
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"No one <i>wants</i> to be a single mother." </blockquote>
Followed by… <br />
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"You are not <i>allowed</i> to want that." </blockquote>
Yes, that is right. I thought that last one too. <br />
Me. The girl driven by the prime directive to <strong><em>live and let live</em></strong>. To love and accept all people for exactly who they are; and as long as who they are and what they do brings harm to no one, then my judgment-free acceptance is limitless.<br /><br /><strong>Or so I thought. </strong><br />
Then this dangerous little antiquated gem popped into my head without permission. This little echo of all the times I cringed and had mean thoughts when relatives said, after I had <i>my</i> first child as a single mother: <br />
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"Oh, Karen…. Congratulations on the new baby, I guess. I just wish it was under better circumstances."</blockquote>
When people treated my "situation" (um, my brand new baby) like it was distasteful at best and tragic at worst, I wanted to scream: <br />
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"Are you fucking kidding me? Have you seen this beautiful boy? He is unbelievably precious and I have never known such an intense feeling of love! How dare you associate regret with this majestic being!"</blockquote>
And yet, here I was. Judging my young daughter for <strong>mindfully dreaming</strong> of being a single mother. It is crazy because, for me, being a single mother was one of the best times of my life. Sure, I could have done without the eating-only-rice-and-beans-for-months-on-end part, but the rest was pure magic. <br />
I worked (often with my baby in a front pack) and I mothered, and that was it. When the weekend came it was a glorious montage of free-feeling, little-person-centered fun and love. No house projects and no mate to suck up all of our time. It was beautiful.<br /><br />Why, then, was I horrified at the thought of my daughter asking for this life? <br />
<strong>Because I have baggage</strong>. Stupid, unwanted, limiting, mind-closing baggage. I have it and so might you. Luckily, we also have our super speedy, kindness-minded, progressive brains that can help us recognize that baggage – and then send it packing (he he he).<br /><br />What happens in our brains we can't help, but <strong>what comes out of our mouths we can</strong>.<br /><br />So after I told my inner rule-prisoner to <strong>zip it</strong>, I told my daughter out loud: <br />
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"I think you would be a wonderful single mother. Maybe Daddy and I can come babysit sometimes."</blockquote>
She thought that was a great idea, and I hope I have given her a little less baggage to unpack as she grows.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-48979789641574807652014-11-26T09:11:00.000-08:002014-11-29T14:19:46.627-08:00Build a Better Police Force and Peace will Follow<div>Folks are talking about how "ignorant" and "stupid" people are for riot-protesting in Ferguson. Some are casting judgment on citizens who "<strong>have no respect for their own communities</strong>" and are participating in "<strong>senseless destruction</strong>". And while I understand the desire for peace, rational thought, and non-violence, I have to ask myself: "<strong>What would it take to get <em>me </em>to burn down a building?"</strong></div> <div> </div> <div>What would it take for any of us to feel trapped in a world of injustice, so let down by the system, so ultimately frustrated, that we would resort to horrific acts of destruction? </div> <div> </div> <div>Let's all take a giant leap here and assume that people in the Ferguson community are <strong>wise</strong>, <strong>rational</strong>, and <strong>reasonable people</strong>. Let's assume those participating in the riots are <strong>just like you and me</strong>. What brought them here? What would it take to bring you there?</div> <div> </div> <div>Would it be an institutionalized system that routinely encourages you to fear for your life? One that demands you demonstrate subservience in the presence of police, and teaches your children to do the same? Would it be a lack of faith in the system that is meant to protect you? Would it take a lifetime of witnessing extreme violence executed by those entrusted to protect and serve? Would it be a system that encourages you to believe you are powerless when you try to hold its people accountable for their actions? Would it be someone killing your unarmed child and walking free, without ever being cross-examined by a prosecutor? </div> <div><b><br></b></div> <div>I don't know what it would take for me, but I do know that <strong>unless I am actually living that life, I don't really have a right to cast judgment</strong> on those who are.<strong> </strong><br><br>I also know that I have never really had much dealing with the legal system and so I always simply assumed that it has everyone's best interest at heart and strives to be fair and just. But I recently had a <a href="http://girlonsaturday.blogspot.com/2014/11/orange-is-new-karen-six-things-i.html">run-in with the law</a>, and while the excessiveness of police power I experienced was comparatively small, I learned just how incredibly difficult it is to get the police department to take responsibility for the actions of their officers.</div> <div> </div> <div>The feeling of people in authority <strong>having so much unbridled power</strong> over you, making it very clear they can make your life a living hell (which is, at least, still <i>living</i>), <strong>is terrifying</strong>. I am not exaggerating here. My one-time experience frightened me to the core and yet it is an infinitesimally small piece of what many folks deal with every moment of their life. This may be the only reality some people know.</div> <div> </div> <div>Is rioting the best, most enlightened path to change? No, I don't think so. Should those breaking the law be prosecuted? Yes, I think so. Do I understand the intense frustration that could lead to those choices? I think I do. At the very least, I think we should be thinking about it, talking about it, and working to inspire change around it. <b>You know things are bad when the only way we feel we can be heard is to start lighting fires in the streets.</b></div> <div> </div> <div>So many layers. So many questions. I thought I would address just one part right now, and that is how to develop a system of checks and balances for the police who are in this everyday. I am the daughter of a cop and I have deep respect for this unfathomably difficult job - but we need a system capable of holding everyone accountable for their actions - everyone.</div> <div><b><br></b></div> <div> <div style="text-align: center"><b>Five Easy Steps to Creating a Kinder, Gentler Police "Force" </b></div></div> <div> <div style="text-align: center"> </div></div> <div><b></b> </div> <div><b>1. Chill the Fuck Out</b></div> <div> </div> <div>Things have changed for police. They have become <a href="http://www.economist.com/blogs/economist-explains/2014/08/economist-explains-11?fsrc=scn/tw_ec/how_americas_police_became_so_well_armed">extremely overly-militarized</a> and they are not just bringing guns to a knife fight - they are <strong>bringing riot gear and TANKS to peaceful protests</strong>.</div> <div> </div> <div>Dress like Rambo and you start acting like Rambo. Stop it.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div><b>2. More Transparency Please</b></div> <div> </div> <div>Currently, you are unable to request the police report that is about you (at least this was my experience – I asked to see it and was flatly denied). Police can store and share their assertions about you in a permanent, ominous "file" (that other police officers can see) without notifying you or even giving you a chance to offer your own testimony. This information can influence decisions that have real consequences. What the hot shit is that all about? <i>Why so secret, my friends?</i></div> <div> </div> <div>Let’s make it so that anyone can go to the police station and see their arrest records. Let's have a website where pictures, names, and badge numbers of these public servants are available. In fact, <strong><em>why not have something like Angie's List for police officers</em></strong>? When you have an encounter with an officer, positive or negative, you could share it with others. Like a Yelp review for cops. The voting record of politicians is public, why not the arrest records and public feedback on cops? Is there a bad cop on the force? How prevalent is the problem? Who are the good cops? Having a system of accountability makes sense.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div><b>3. Stop Pretending Race Doesn't Matter</b></div> <div><strong></strong><br>In the United States, we have <strong>a lot of white people</strong>:</div> <div> </div> <div><img title="RacialDistributionUnitedStates2012" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="RacialDistributionUnitedStates2012" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-lnHpyXSNe48/VHoBC0PKfHI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/491E6C-ObvA/RacialDistributionUnitedStates2012%25255B4%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="457" height="469"></div> <div> </div> <div>And percentage-wise, we have <strong>even more white police officers:</strong></div> <div> </div> <div><img title="PoliceOfficersByRace" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="PoliceOfficersByRace" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-T5u5U22-ink/VHoBDbw9A0I/AAAAAAAAA2c/udLIzSLX8TE/PoliceOfficersByRace%25255B4%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="468" height="469"></div> <div> </div> <div>And <strong>even more white judges:</strong></div> <div> </div> <div><img title="JudgesByRace" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="JudgesByRace" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-25cuFvZ2Ga0/VHoZnUJs0QI/AAAAAAAAA3o/zsrx9lcYC5Q/JudgesByRace%25255B4%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="457" height="469"><br></div> <div><br>And when it comes to enforcing the laws, this <strong>very white world </strong>seems to lead to an <strong>imprisoned community</strong> <strong>filled with minorities</strong>. </div> <div> </div> <div>Who’s in jail, in the United States, by race:</div> <div> </div> <div><img title="IncarcerationByRace" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IncarcerationByRace" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-_KD87GLI1bc/VHoBDzzkXqI/AAAAAAAAA2k/pzO9rmAqEeY/IncarcerationByRace%25255B11%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="462" height="469"></div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div>If you live in the United States, your likelihood of going to jail, by race:</div> <div><br><img title="ChanceOfGoingToJailByRace" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="ChanceOfGoingToJailByRace" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-2h6wX3htxW8/VHoBEKOPluI/AAAAAAAAA2w/EfpF868Kgjs/ChanceOfGoingToJailByRace%25255B5%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="527" height="471"><br></div> <div> </div> <div>Here’s another way of looking at it: </div> <div> </div> <div>The chances a white person is going to jail are <strong>1 in 935</strong>. </div> <div> </div> <div>Those odds look like this (each circle represents one person – the <strong>red dot is the one going to jail</strong>):</div> <div> </div> <div><img title="1in935" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="1in935" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-9i8KY35I4wo/VHoBEixG2bI/AAAAAAAAA20/iIEOwytHIgc/1in935%25255B4%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="460" height="492"></div> <div> </div> <div>The chances a black person is going to jail: <font size="4"><strong>1 in 34</strong>.</font></div> <div> </div> <div><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-xNqW8MU0hIk/VHoBFJrYwHI/AAAAAAAAA28/CvvoRCa-lmo/s1600-h/1in34%25255B7%25255D.png"><img title="1in34" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="1in34" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-WAPYETMYVpc/VHoBF2dZ_dI/AAAAAAAAA3I/pEon5cCRV_U/1in34_thumb%25255B3%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="460" height="40"></a></div> <div> </div> <div>As a black person, you are <strong>27 times more likely to go to jail </strong>than your white compatriots.</div> <div> </div> <div><strong>Race. Clearly. Matters.</strong></div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div><br><b>4. Can We Get Some Sensitivity Training Up in Here?</b></div> <div><strong></strong><br>Seriously, is this even a thing? It kind of feels like it should be <strong>Police Academy 101</strong>. If black people, even unarmed ones, make you nervous and volatile, <strong>don't be a cop</strong>. If you think women should be seen and not heard, <strong>don't be a cop</strong>. If you think Mexicans should all be deported, <strong>don't be a cop</strong>. </div> <div> </div> <div><strong>Racism & sexism have no place in Cop-land </strong>- get enlightened or get the fuck out.<br><br>Let's start incentivizing and recruiting people of diversity to be police officers. It is hard to dehumanize someone because of their color if your partner is the same color.<br><br>You know those young people with pants down to their knees and hoodies and apparent “attitude problems”? Go meet their moms, or little siblings, or grandfathers, or whoever cares about these young people - start seeing them as real people, just kids trying to find their identity and maybe trying to find a way to stand up to bullies, even ones with badges. Each one of those "Thugs" has worth and should be treated with dignity.<br></div> <div><br><b>5. Costume Change!</b></div> <div><strong></strong><br>In addition to sensitivity training, how about some practical policy change? Let's make non-lethal weapons like Tasers a mandatory part of police equipment, so if a cop in a car feels threatened and it doesn't occur to him to roll up the windows or drive away, he could simply use a Taser - BAM! Revolution avoided.<br><br>There are also technological advancements like mace and rubber bullets. It feels like designing the uniform to make non-lethal options easier to get to than lethal ones makes sense and may save lives.<br><br><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/nov/04/california-police-body-cameras-cuts-violence-complaints-rialto">Body cameras</a> worn by police are effective because all of us behave better under scrutiny. An objective recording of events protects both suspects and police officers alike. <br><b><br></b><b>There are lots of things police could carry, including empathy, and respect for all human life, that would make the world a little bit safer for all of us.</b></div> <p><em>PS – If you are wondering why you have not seen charts like the ones above before, it is because they are not easily available. Information on racial breakdown across the United States seems to only be available through careful analysis of data deeply buried. These charts were created by my amazing husband/editor (deep gratitude for his abilities and his prioritization of this issue). </em><em>We should continue to ask questions, especially ones like “why is this information so hard to find?”</em></p> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-77267625654676310892014-11-18T12:06:00.000-08:002014-11-19T13:09:31.784-08:00Women in Tech have a New Role Model!<h3>(just kidding - same old shit...)</h3> <div> </div> <div>I am a feminist who usually considers Barbie to be a pretty good role model. Sure, she has <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2308658/How-Barbies-body-size-look-real-life-Walking-fours-missing-half-liver-inches-intestine.html">proportions</a> that in real life <strong>would not </strong>allow her tiny neck to hold up her enormous head, or accommodate <strong>full sized organs </strong>- but aren't we in favor of representing unique body shapes? I know that her permanently tip-toed, child-size-three feet and fragile thinness would, in reality, only allow her to walk on all fours. </div> <div> </div> <div>Side note: In the past when my children insisted we play with her, I would have Barbie <strong>walk on all fours </strong>and make <strong>her head droop down sideways </strong>because <strong>you have to follow the rules of physics</strong>, <strong>people!</strong> My kids don’t ask to play with Barbie any more.</div> <div> </div> <div>But come on! We should be <strong>proud </strong>that despite Barbie’s severe physical limitations, the woman has held <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbie's_careers">78 careers</a> in her lifetime, probably due to that giant oversized brain she must be holding in her giant oversized head. Past occupations include <strong>oncologist</strong>, <strong>fire fighter</strong>, <strong>paratrooper</strong>, <strong>street rapper</strong>, and <strong>football coach</strong>.</div> <div> </div> <div>Barbie, in spite of having breasts so freakishly large for her disproportionate frame that it is a wonder anyone looks at her face, never mind her accomplishments, has bucked stereotypes and succeeded in male-dominated fields. All the while, Barbie has never compromised her meticulous make up routine or attention to her extensive, if questionably professional, wardrobe. </div> <div> </div> <div>Hasn't Barbie done enough for feminism already?</div> <div> </div> <div>Well, it turns out she is still at it. Recently, Barbie's turn as a computer engineer has hit the news. This may be a poor choice for Barbie, considering her wrists are so tiny only <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2308658/How-Barbies-body-size-look-real-life-Walking-fours-missing-half-liver-inches-intestine.html" target="_blank">1 in 19 people suffering from Anorexia</a> ever reach that level of fragility, so early-onset carpal tunnel syndrome seems inevitable.</div> <div> </div> <div>Nonetheless, she begins the book <strong><i>Barbie: I Can be a Computer Engineer</i> </strong>by saying to her little sister Skipper: "<strong>I am designing a game that shows kids how computers work.</strong>" That is so cool! </div> <div> </div> <div><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-NG-rdOm3dJQ/VGzsDZAXr1I/AAAAAAAAA1g/KMhwUutPcfU/s1600-h/BarbieIntro%25255B6%25255D.png"><img title="BarbieIntro" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="BarbieIntro" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-rCCAZAk4cwY/VGzsEL3PCiI/AAAAAAAAA1o/_PLwzmQCSfA/BarbieIntro_thumb%25255B5%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="500" height="431"></a></div> <div>While she turns out to be a designer, not an engineer, as the book promises, I am thrilled to see a woman like Barbie take on the task of simplifying the complex inner workings of computers so it is easy for children to understand. But there is one problem: no one has simplified the complex inner workings of computers so it is easy <strong><em>for Barbie </em></strong>to understand.</div> <div> </div> <div>Barbie has no idea how to detect or remove a computer virus, is unable to reboot her computer, and uses a pink necklace flash drive to back up her work (and unknowingly transmit viruses), because the story takes place in 1991 and version control and offline backup have yet to be invented in <strong>My Little Pony Land</strong>. </div> <div> </div> <div>Look, I don't begrudge Barbie <strong>her pink</strong> (although I worry about the resale value of Barbie’s mansion with those pink and purple cabinets in the kitchen), and I don't even begrudge her ineptitude in the world of technology - but I am shocked and confused that she took on computer engineering <strong>without actually taking on computer engineering</strong>. Wasn't it enough for you to be the UNICEF summit diplomat? Did you have to have a book titled "I can be a computer engineer" when it is very clear to everyone, especially your friends Steven and Brian, who had to bail you out by page three, that you most certainly can NOT? </div> <div> </div> <div>I am not a woman from the world of tech, but I have a husband and friends (even girl ones!) who are. And I have been to enough tech conferences where attendees say things like: "<strong>You don't look like a woman in tech</strong>" or “<strong>You must be in marketing</strong>”, later heading in packs to strip clubs after dinner. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that the rocket science industry is an old boys club and there are some <strong>seriously brilliant, articulate women swimming upstream </strong>in a Madmen kind of world.</div> <div> </div> <div><strong>Why Barbie, why? </strong>Why do you have to add insult to injury to these women who <strong><em>actually can be computer engineers</em></strong>? You were a popular aerobics instructor for 25 years even though your limbs are not wide enough to actually accommodate muscle. Why not stay with that instead of telling the story of how you can giggle and hair flip your way into pretending you’re a computer engineer? It is insulting; it is inaccurate; and it is exploiting a field where <strong>women are working hard, every day, to be taken seriously and compensated fairly</strong>.</div> <div> </div> <div>Come on Barbie, I try to defend you - but you are making it so difficult. </div> <div> </div> <div>Here’s my version of the book (original on the left, mine on the right):</div> <div><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-KqjkYR6ZLgo/VGzsEn_B6KI/AAAAAAAAA1w/7eCtt51EZFI/s1600-h/BarbieRedesign%25255B4%25255D.png"><img title="BarbieRedesign" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="BarbieRedesign" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Z1z8tmgA-eE/VGzsFsbnesI/AAAAAAAAA10/7FdIRXEc6Sg/BarbieRedesign_thumb%25255B2%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="484" height="256"></a><br>Can you spot the differences?</div> <div> </div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-48564907104005890672014-11-13T15:05:00.000-08:002014-11-13T15:22:04.219-08:00#Breaking the Internet<h4>(of the negativity cycle surrounding women and their sexuality)</h4><br>When <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/jennifer-lawrence-on-4chan-nude-hacking-scandal-the-internet-has-scorned-me-9856364.html">J.Law</a> and company had their private, nude photos hacked and leaked onto the internet a few months ago, there was some serious anger. Not so much anger at the criminals who hacked into these women’s accounts, violating their basic rights - that’s actually the kind of anger I can get behind. No, the anger that surfaced was toward the victims. Oh sure, it was couched in “concern about internet safety”, but the more honest criticism sounded like: "If you don't want nude photos leaked, don't take nude photos." Right. Like if you don't want to be strangled, don't have a neck.<br><br>Interestingly, criticism was mostly a <i><strong>by women, about women</strong></i> kind of thing. Women don't like it when naked ladies go mainstream.<br><br>And now, we have <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kim_Kardashian">Kim Kardashian</a>, and the <a href="http://www.papermag.com/2014/11/kim_kardashian.php">full frontal heard round the world</a>. Oh yeah, panties are in a tightly wound bunch, so to speak. It is hard to consume any social media without hearing how "<strong>Nasty</strong>" and "<strong>Disgusting</strong>" Kim Kardashian is. Again, most of the anger coming from women.<br><br>I am not a fan of KK, but I found the picture both interesting and funny. Naked women don't make me angry, but with all the hoo-hah I thought maybe I was missing something, so I considered the criticism....<br><br><b><i>"She needs to respect her body."</i></b><br><br>First of all, she doesn't NEED to do anything. She is a grown woman, not breaking any laws. Secondly, I think she is respecting her body. She is not talking smack about it, she is not harming it, and she seems to be celebrating it with pride. Hiding under a hoodie and self-hate doesn't mean you respect your body.<br><br><b><i>"What about the children!!?"</i></b><br><br>Yes, with the prevalence of this photo, it is very possibly going to be seen by young eyes. Then again. it is just a woman without clothes. This should really not be scarring. I also heard a mother angry because Kim Kardashian was now a terrible role model. I can honestly say this photo did nothing to change Kim Kardashian's status as a role model in my eyes. If you want a role model for the little ones you love, try <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eleanor_Roosevelt">Eleanor Roosevelt</a> or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malala_Yousafzai">Malala Yousafzai.</a><br><br><b><i>"She is a mom!!!"</i></b><br><br>Right, because when you become a mom - that is all you are. Not a celebrity, entrepreneur, lover, or owner of an ass. Again, the picture is not one of KK ripping the wings off bugs; she is not doing anything harmful in these photos. When her kid sees these one day, he will likely roll his eyes and say "Mommmm!" And end of scene.<br><br><b><i>"It's plastic!"</i></b><br><br>There is a lot of speculation about surgical enhancements that may have contributed to the striking nature of the photo. I don't know if it is the case or not, and it is really none of my business. People have uniquely shaped bodies and some chose to sculpt their bodies with silicone. Again, no puppies are dying here.<br><br><b><i>"It is Photoshopped!" </i></b><br><br>Yes, I am sure it is. That is how magazine art is created. The lighting and make-up are also part of the art of the picture. Kim wasn't just walking around in a sequined gown in her kitchen when she noticed a plain brown backdrop and thought "Hmmm…. I am going to pour myself a glass of champagne!" <br>It is an illusion; a fantasy. Photoshop is a creative tool. Let's assume all magazine covers are Photoshopped and move on.<br><br><b><i>"She is doing it for attention!"</i></b><br><br>Yes, that is what celebrities do.<br><br><b><i>"It is not classy. It is just trashy."</i></b><br><br>I get that you feel that way, so you should certainly not pose nude for magazines or balance things on your butt - but please, just <strong>zip it</strong>. Is it classy to make negative comments about a person’s body or her choice?<br><br><b><i>"She is just doing it for money. Like she needs it!"</i></b><br><br>I don't know what Kim Kardashian needs or does not need, but I do know that I would rather pose for pictures where I was compensated and had a choice than have photos stolen from me and published without my consent.<br><br><b><i>"She is a vapid, no-talent reflection of society's celebrity-mongering."</i></b><br><br>Maybe. But here we all are - talking about her.<br><br>So, since I have not heard a compelling argument about why I should be grossed-out by a naked woman with a big ass in a magazine, I am left to speculate about why many women find this so unsettling.<br><br> <div class="separator" style="text-align: center; clear: both"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-sHf1nLDSm_c/VGU9GKrTU7I/AAAAAAAAA1E/DQFJV5o5zjI/s1600-h/KarenPoursCoffee2%25255B3%25255D.png"><img title="KarenPoursCoffee2" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: left; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 11px 0px 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px" border="0" alt="KarenPoursCoffee2" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Kkt9hNN038g/VGU9GiXrybI/AAAAAAAAA1I/FZFOhLHq9vI/KarenPoursCoffee2_thumb%25255B1%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="287" align="left" height="484"></a></div>Is it because we feel insecure when we look at perfectly lit, stunning bodies? Is it because we get jealous when others – maybe our partners - covet them? Are we resentful because we have to play within the confines of decorum, while the likes of Kim Kardashian do as they please under perfect Hollywood lighting? Do we hate "sluts", or anyone who gives "slutty messages"? It this because sexual freedom is not something we think we can achieve? Do we think women who seek attention are dangerous?<br><br>I don't know the answers to any of these questions. All I know is that balancing cups on your ass is hard, and I need another coffee. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-21499243208313376032014-11-06T10:05:00.000-08:002014-11-06T10:51:44.754-08:00How to lose 10 lbs. in 10 days!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aDvMEfugUYE/T4MZwArjKFI/AAAAAAAAAUY/VH9TY_Snwi8/s1600/Karen's%2BiPhone%2B1563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aDvMEfugUYE/T4MZwArjKFI/AAAAAAAAAUY/VH9TY_Snwi8/s1600/Karen%27s%2BiPhone%2B1563.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Faked you out again with the picture,<br />
no diet tips in this blog. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last week was really hard for me. I was kind of a wreck. My stomach and head hurt, I was unreasonably hot or cold, and using the phrase "emotional roller coaster" would be an understatement unless you have a roller coaster that actually leaves earth's orbit and then plummets into earth's core in less than 30 seconds.<br />
<br />
I yelled at my kids, I was a jerk to my husband, and I was unproductive and lethargic when I was taking breaks from being mean. I recognized my behavior as crazy town, I did. But there was also nothing I could do about it, I just could not figure out <i>why</i> I was feeling this way.<br />
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But...here is what else happened to me.<br />
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I received several online threats - nasty ones. Ones talking about <i>my kids</i>. Ones saying I look "<i>easy to rape</i>". Horrific threats. Curl-your-toes atrocious. From strangers.<br />
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I also received menacing comments from my husband's ex sister-in-law. This is not a woman who has ever met me, or even spoken to me, but has still found it in her heart to say terrible things about me to anyone who will listen. This woman actually called my minister to make threatening remarks and defame my character. She is teeming with rage against me. Apparently, she is also an online follower of mine and left a comment on social media that was just odd enough, and threatening enough, to make me wonder about her sanity and her intentions. It scared me. <br />
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Then, my neighbor and I had <a href="http://girlonsaturday.blogspot.com/2014/11/orange-is-new-karen-six-things-i.html" target="_blank">an exchange</a> where he ended up hitting me hard with his shoulder and I hit him back. Inexplicably, only I was arrested and taken away. The police took me in without ever taking a statement from me. I was confused, I was powerless, I was treated like a second class citizen in this situation. The police took action before knowing the whole situation.<br />
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I felt unsafe. I felt unjustly persecuted. I felt targeted, and I felt powerless.<br />
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<b>I felt a small piece of what it means to live in a world where you are marginalized and vulnerable. I tasted a bit of what it might be like to be a woman in the middle east, or a Mexican in a border state, or a black person in Ferguson, MO.</b><br />
<br />
As a white privileged woman in America, I rarely have the opportunity for this kind of perspective.<br />
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It sucks. A lot.<br />
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It sucks for me and everyone I came in contact with.<br />
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The stress and anxiety also prevented me from eating and I lost 10lbs.<br />
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Then the comments started. "You look great! So skinny! What have you been doing?"<br />
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?!?!?<br />
<br />
Losing my mind. That is what I had been doing. The comment "You look great" shocked me. I am as raw and distressed as I have ever been. Nothing about me felt great, but that apparently does not matter. I was manipulating my body to be small, and whatever price I was paying was irrelevant. <b>Hooray or me!</b><br />
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When things like this happen, it is time to reevaluate. Is losing weight the most praiseworthy thing I can do? When we encounter someone, do we always evaluate their size status? Are we so entrenched in the thin ideal that we notice it above all else?<br />
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I had a very special teacher in high school, her name was Dr. Cote. She seemed to know me very well. I don't know how, but she did. I kept a relationship with her after high school and she always seemed to notice that for me, losing weight usually meant feeling kind of sad. Not always - she looked closely enough to know the difference between me feeling great and fit - and me getting small inexplicably. She noticed and she cared. She stands out in my mind because she is the only one who looked deeper than simply just me losing weight. When everyone else congratulated me, she looked further. She is no longer living, and a woman like that is a huge loss to the world.<br />
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<b>Maybe the 'end all/be all' is not about shedding pounds</b>. Maybe rapid weight loss is not the holy grail we think it is; maybe it is sign that something is not going well - in our bodies, in our minds, in our society.<br />
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I am making my way back to strength and well-being. I am consciously eating foods that will give my body what it needs. I am getting it together and trying to be healthy, if not thin. When I get there, I will more genuinely appreciate the compliment "You look great".<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-73062194156402962122014-11-03T13:36:00.000-08:002014-11-04T10:25:45.994-08:00Orange is the New Karen: Seven Things I Learned after Getting Arrested Today<p>Our neighbors moved in almost three years ago. Most of this time, they have kept to themselves; regardless I thought we had a nice relationship. When they had a baby, I bought them a welcoming gift of a cute little baby hat (because nothing’s cuter than a baby in a hat) and I made them lasagna. Once we rode together to a school function. We were always friendly. </p> <p>The <strong>woman </strong>of the house <strong>was lovely, </strong>if not <strong>very reclusive.</strong> The man of the house, however, has always given me the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heebie-jeebies_(idiom)" target="_blank">heebie-jeebies</a>. Maybe it was the <strong>amount of tension in his face as he closely watched his wife speak</strong>. Maybe it was the way he only grunted and looked away when neighbors said hello. Or maybe it was the way he kept his lawn and grounds so intensely manicured and meticulously perfect - the kind of perfect you only get with a psychiatric diagnosis. Maybe it was all the times we realized he had been standing right next to us, quietly, out of sight, just on the other side of his fence, whenever we were in the backyard. Or maybe it was the way he sat in his backyard and continuously stared at my sister and her friends every time they went swimming in the pool last summer.<br><br>At any rate, I just assumed the family <strong>were not into socializing </strong>or <b>having anyone over. Ever</b>. Still, I invited them to our <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqL2YXrAXKk" target="_blank">re-wedding </a>in August. They did not respond to our invitation and they did not show up to the wedding, but just after 8:00pm when my husband/editor and I were having our first dance, the police showed up. The man had apparently called the police. The officers and I had a pleasant exchange and they ultimately agreed they saw no reason why they should have been called, and left.<br><br>Shortly after, a few guests, which included a 17-year-old young man, stood chatting on my lawn in front of my house. The 17-year-old was appreciating and commenting on the neighbor's car, when we heard something rarely uttered here in the Northeast: the command “Git!” (as in “Git out of here!”). My neighbor shouted “Git! Git! Git!” as he ran over to our guests. The 17-year-old, in disbelief, asked "Are you talking to me?"</p> <p>My neighbor (let's just call him <strong><em>Mr. Git</em></strong>) shouted: "<strong>Take your bitches and get out!</strong>" Now, since one of those so-called "bitches" happened to be the young man’s mother, the young man told Mr. Git to kindly fuck off. <br>Mr. Git shouted back: "<strong>I'll fuck your mother!</strong>".<br><br>Yes, that was actually said, in anger, on my front lawn, on my re-wedding day.<br><br>A growingly nervous mother sent the 17-year-old back into our home. Mr. Git then announced that he had a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glock" target="_blank">Glock</a> inside his house. <strong>His wife appeared at their front door and begged him to come inside. </strong>Mr. Git shouted “<strong>Shut Up!</strong>”<strong> </strong>and <strong>she quickly retreated</strong>. </p> <p>Again and again Mr. Git made it very clear to our guests that he had a Glock and he was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stand-your-ground_law" target="_blank">from Florida</a> and so everyone better stay off <strong>his property</strong>. He seemed to be under the impression that his Floridian heritage allowed him to shoot our guests from his front lawn. Now kids, this level of crazy goes beyond what I’m normally accustomed to. This isn’t fun crazy. This is dangerous crazy.</p> <p>So I was glad when the cops showed up again around 10pm.<br><br>However, this second encounter with the police was very different. When the officers approached I told them I was glad to see them and told them about the neighbor threatening a boy with a gun. </p> <p>But the officer was very irritated. He said: "<strong>I will decide what we are talking about.</strong> <strong>You need to turn down the music.</strong>" I said "Ok, but can I make a statement about what I consider to be a dangerous situation?" At that point, the officer asked to speak with the man of the house. I said "Sure, let me just travel back in time to 1950". I was laughing. “You can talk to me.”<br><br>Instead of discussing the incident, the officer and I went through a sort of power exchange tango. Since it was my wedding and I was the one in the white dress, I grew frustrated with the lack of progress and left to rejoin the party. The cops remained in the front yard interviewing our guests and talking to the neighbors. And they stayed there, in front of our wedding ceremony, for over an hour. Since they were kind of harshing the vibe of our wedding, I returned to the front yard and said: “This is enough. You have been here a very long time and we are done.” The office ordered: “You stand over there.” I said: “I am standing over here, on my property, but if you are not detaining me, then it is time for you to leave." The officer asked: “<strong>Do you know what I can do to you?</strong>”<br><br>That’s a fear-based threat, kids, and I was feeling neither protected nor served.<br><br>I repeated my request for the police to leave or detain me. More words were exchanged, one of us puffed out his chest, and the discussion was becoming increasingly stand-offish until <strong>the good cop </strong>(there’s always one, isn’t there?) stepped between us, telling his partner to go to the car. The angry cop remained in the car for a long time before getting out and writing me a “disturbing the peace” ticket for $133.00. I thanked them and he finally left, though he was still visibly irritated.<br><br>The next day I went to the police station. I was overwhelmed. Why the neighbor hate? Why were the police so abrasive? Why the apparent misogynistic attitude from the police? Would I be able to feel safe living next to Mr. Git and his Glock? </p> <p>I also wanted to talk to someone about the possibly misogynistic officer who demanded to speak to my husband. I asked the officer on duty to place a report of my complaint in the officer’s file. The officer on duty told me that would not happen because: “if the officer misspoke, it would have been an isolated incident.” </p> <p>But how could he (or anyone) know it was isolated, with their apparent policy of refusing to file complaints?</p> <p>“Look, if it’s isolated, then nothing will ever come of it - but if it is a pattern, let's start documenting it. Anyone with a regular job can get negative feedback documented. What makes the police so – ?”</p> <p>The officer interrupted: “<strong>I am not playing this game. You are not in a grocery store!</strong>”<br><br>Look, if you read this blog regularly you know that I’m an instigator. But I also have big love and respect for cops as a whole (my daddy was a cop - a good one). But everyone is accountable. Everyone.<br><br>More visits to the police station, more debates, and finally resolution – they reluctantly agreed to enter my complaint in the officer’s file. </p> <p>In truth I expected some backlash. I expected to get pulled over more frequently. However I did not expect what happened this morning.<br><br>This morning I was wrangling a gaggle of kids into the car for church when I noticed an enormous semi-truck completely blocking my driveway exit to the street (I am pretty sure this is not legal, and at the very least it is rude without asking). I went next door and knocked. I was surprised to see the mover answer the door. </p> <p>“Can you please move your truck so I can get out and get my kids to church?” The mover said: "Look lady, we block driveways all the time.” I was surprised by his answer, so I asked again. He replied: “If I move my truck I’ll just back it up so it blocks your driveway even more.”</p> <p>Wow. And that was from a total stranger.</p> <p>The woman who lives in the house came to the door and said "Karen, you block our driveway all the time." Which seems highly unlikely since we only have one car and our own driveway - which easily holds four cars. </p> <p>But instead of addressing the questionable plausibility of her claim I simply said: "I am sorry if that has ever happened and if you let us know we will always move our cars as soon as possible." </p> <p>Next I hear Mr. Git running down the stairs screaming “<strong>What is SHE doing here?</strong>”. I backed up, deciding to return to my kids. When Mr. Git reached the door, his wife, now pregnant with their third baby, whispered: “Please don't go out.”</p> <p><strong>Mr. Git grabbed his wife's head and pushed it violently down</strong>, jumping past her, flying down his front porch stairs, and running at me fast. He put his finger right up into my face and screamed: “<strong>You have one minute to get off my property!</strong>” </p> <p>I raised both hands into the air, took a step backward from the finger in my face, and said: “I just need the truck moved.” He kept threateningly close. My dog was near us, barking. He chased after the little dog, shouting: “<strong>I’ll shut you up for good!</strong>” He called me a <strong>fucking bitch</strong> and a <strong>cunt</strong>. He kicked the dog. My dog yelped and ran away. Mr. Git then quickly returned, and we were face to face again.</p> <p>He <strong>shoulder-chucked me hard</strong>, really hard. It knocked the breath out of my lungs. I stepped back, and Mr. Git stepped in.</p> <p>If you read my blog, you know I believe there is never a good reason to use force. I teach this to my kids all the time. But the enraged Mr. Git just hurt his pregnant wife, just kicked my dog, and just hit me hard. I don’t believe in violence, but I also don’t believe in just sitting there and taking abuse.</p> <p>I shouted: "Oh no you didn't!" and I hit Mr. Git’s shoulder, clearly surprising him, and knocking him back.<br><br>Mr. Git suddenly turned and ran into his house. With all the rage on display, I wondered if he might be going for his Glock. Deciding that I didn’t really want to find out what item he was rushing in to get, I shoveled the kids into the car, drove over our lawn and off the curb, and off to safety. I needed a little church and a little distance.</p> <p>I called 911 on my way, mostly because my heart was heavy with the idea that I possibly sent the bundle-of-rage that is Mr. Git back into his house <b>with only the pregnant wife there to process his anger</b>. I found myself wishing Mr. Git had just punched me in the face so he would be arrested and out of the house, which might offer his wife and her babies some protection.</p> <p>I relayed my concern to 911 about Mr. Git’s aggressive behavior with his wife, but 911 was more interested in knowing what vehicle I was driving and what road I was on so they could “send a car for me”. I said: “I am leaving a volatile situation and taking my kids to church. I will be back home in two hours.” </p> <p>911 continued to press: “What vehicle are you driving and what church are you going to?” I answered: “I am in a minivan and going to church in a building.” The 911 officer was getting angry: "<strong>Look, we are going to get you on the road or at church.</strong>" I explained: “I realize this was not what you want, but I need to get my children - some of whom are still crying - away and to a safe place.” </p> <p>I needed for everything to calm down.<br><br>At church, I maintained my cool long enough to get the kids to their classes. And then I had a little breakdown, spending the next hour trying to regain composure. After church, the 911 officer phoned me. He told me he needed to talk to me in person. I asked if we could have a phone conversation. He was angry: “Absolutely not. If there is something more important you have to do, I can just arrest you and it will be up to the judge to decide your bond.” </p> <p>I was a little surprised. “What would the charge be?” The officer said: “I am not going to discuss this with you.” I said: “I think I have a right to know what I could be charged with.” The officer disagreed. He seemed as indignant as a parent realizing that “because I said so” was no longer working.</p> <p>Then, as if in an echo from police visits past, he threatened: “<strong>Do you know what I can do to you?</strong>” </p> <p>I calmly answered: “Yes, I understand you have power over me and you would like me to acknowledge that power by doing exactly what you say.” </p> <p>Then, because I have a father who explained to me when I was little that <strong>cops often have issues with power </strong>and that they do not like to be questioned because there are situations <strong>where loss of control can be lethal</strong>, I told him I would be home in 30 minutes and would talk to him then.<br><br>Shortly after I arrived home, three police vehicles pulled up in front of my house and five officers put me in handcuffs, arresting me in front of my children.<br>So, that was fun.<br><br>At the police station, they discovered I was not a clear and present danger, just a mom trying to put distance between her family and a rage-filled man with a Glock. <br>Oh and kids, the man who threatened my guests, attacked his wife, kicked my dog and hit me received no charges whatsoever and was not arrested.</p> <p>On the other hand, I was charged with <strong>trespassing</strong>, <strong>breaching the peace </strong>and <strong>assault</strong>.</p> <p>After two hours at the police station, I was released on my own recognizance. Apparently moms of seven are a very low flight risk (sigh). <br><br>Things I Learned From Getting Arrested Today<br><br><b>1. Talk to your neighbors when you are frustrated.</b><br><br>Good God, if Mr. Git had just come over and chatted about whatever was irritating him, this never would have happened. Don't call the police when you have a gripe with your neighbor - just tell your neighbor and ask for change. I thought this one was obvious.<br><br><b>2. Even if authorities are angry and threatening, listen to your instincts to protect your family.</b><br><br>I now have a rap sheet, which is kind of cool, even though it may destroy my chances of ever going back to teaching, but I do not regret any of my choices. The officer later told me: “You should have stayed there and called the police. We can get there quickly.” But the consequence of waiting to see what Mr. Git was going to carry from his home could have been much worse. Guns and the threat of weapons up the anti on risk, and if I had stayed and brought harm to my family, well, that would be incredibly hard to live with.<br><b><br></b><b>3. Cops are control freaks.</b><br><br>But, maybe that makes sense. Custodians or house cleaners may have OCD, but that just helps them do their job.<br><br><b>4. People in power want to stay in power.</b><br><br>There are parallels between the cops needing me to validate their place in the power structure (and threatening me when their authority was challenged) and the threats and hate mail I receive after questioning the authority of others. </p> <p>When I call myself a feminist or spread thoughts that upset the current order, those with privilege - those who have the most to lose - are the ones most likely to threaten or try to shut me up. </p> <p>And yes, sometimes they ask if I know what they are capable of doing to me.<br><br><b>5. Stupid sexism is alive and well.</b><br><b><br></b>My husband is not my father, and I just checked the calendar again - we do not live in feudal times. I am a grown woman who speaks for herself. When I point out to officers <strong>just how ridiculous </strong>it is to ask for the “man in charge” (instead of simply talking to me), they must feel a little stupid. And if they have any power, calling them out on their sexism is risky, because they're much more inclined to use their power against you.<br><br><b>6. Domestic violence is also alive and well.</b><br><br>And it’s hard to detect when those who are being abused refuse to speak. My pregnant neighbor denied that her husband assaulted her. We all need to be better at saying something when we see something. </p> <p>I called a woman's hotline today to report what I saw.</p> <p><strong>7. When people in authority have no accountability, it is terrifying.</strong> </p> <p>Police officers pulled my arms behind my back and forcefully closed handcuffs tightly over my wrists (ouch). I was stripped of my physical freedom at my home, and in front of my children, <strong>without ever having an opportunity to make a statement or to explain to the officers what happened</strong>. I was cooperative, peaceful and respectful. Unfortunately my request to be taken in without handcuffs was rejected. </p> <p>And earlier, when I went to the police station to share my concerns about possible 1950's style sexism, I was essentially told (again and again) that police officers are beyond criticism. </p> <p>I liked it much better when I felt safe. </p> <p>There’s a chance my arrest made the rage-filled Mr. Git feel powerful. If so, I’m okay with that, because I worry about what might happen to his wife if Mr. Git ever felt emasculated or powerless. That might be the most dangerous situation of all. </p> <p>That might be the most dangerous situation of all.</p> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-43979831700863443072014-10-27T23:12:00.000-07:002014-10-27T23:12:30.668-07:00Vacancy at the Hotel Uterus<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"> <tbody>
<tr> <td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KyhFzu9UdFQ/VEkUIC0xpQI/AAAAAAAAAzo/rrvJXD9bl0Y/s1600/10428278_10152422533182299_1947030793820326478_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KyhFzu9UdFQ/VEkUIC0xpQI/AAAAAAAAAzo/rrvJXD9bl0Y/s1600/10428278_10152422533182299_1947030793820326478_o.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr> <td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Freedom is a beautiful thing</i></td></tr>
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I think we can all agree that women are under a lot of scrutiny. A lot. <br />
We are almost always <strong>too fat</strong> – unless we cross over and become “<strong>disgustingly thin</strong><em>” or a “</em><strong>skinny bitch</strong><em>”. </em><br />
We are expected to <strong>behave</strong>, and we hear these commands all the time:<br />
"<strong>Smile!</strong>"<br /> "<strong>Sit up!</strong>" <br /><em> "</em><strong>Don't be pushy!</strong>" <br /> "<strong>Don't be too loud!</strong>"<br /> "<strong>You are too opinionated!</strong>"<br /> "<strong>Act like a lady!</strong>"<br />
Wait, are those last four said only to me? No, I’m pretty sure they are universal. <br />
I think.<br />
We are constantly under observation:<em> </em><br />
"<strong>Sure, she lost some weight, but now her face sags.</strong>" <br /> "<strong>I think she has had some work done.</strong>" <br /> "<strong>She has cankles and her left eye is lazy.</strong>"<br />
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From where I sit, women can't win for losing. This goes double for moms: <br />
"<strong>I don't know why she even had kids if she is never home.</strong>"<br /> "<strong>She just lets those kids walk all over her.</strong>"<br /> "<strong>She is a mess! If you can't handle the stress, don't have kids!</strong>"<br />
Talking about not being able to win for losing, <em>try that, </em>women. Try <strong>not having kids</strong>. That will surely keep all that criticism off your ass. <br />
Oh wait - no it won't.<br />
You want to open yourself up to a huge stinking pile of judgment? Just be a <strong>childless female over 30</strong>. Even worse, a <strong><em>married</em> </strong>childless female over 30. A woman who chooses not to have a child. <br />
I have never been a childless female over 30, so I am not speaking from experience. But, I can tell you that I have never heard anything good offered up about women who exercise their right to live their life in a way that suits them.<br />
I can also tell you that whenever I meet a woman who has chosen not to have children, she confesses that right away. Sometimes she will share this information apologetically, sometimes with a bit of compensating bravado, and sometimes just as a warning or heads-up that I may find her pristine ovaries all too much and take leave of her company forthwith.<br />
Women would not be so preemptively defensive if they didn't all get a ton of shit for not having a kid. <br />
This steaming pile of shit we dump on childless women is crazy for so many reasons, I feel compelled to enumerate them in my new blog segment, aptly titled:<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">WHY GIVING WOMEN SHIT </span><span style="font-size: medium;">FOR NOT HAVING BABIES </span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">IS ONE OF THE MOST FUCKED-UP THINGS</span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">YOU CAN DO</span></h1>
<b> </b><br />
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This title makes me happy.<br />
<h3>
1. It is their body, their life and their choice</h3>
That's right people, women are actually autonomous creatures with lots to offer the world besides their uteruses. They are not extensions of a man who can breed with them; they are not cattle impregnated for the good of the farm; they are not the unpaid nannies of the world, continuing the species, alone, on their exhausted shoulders. <br />
They are humans, living in a society and oh so very capable of personal choice. <br />
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<b>2. Overpopulation</b></h3>
Seriously folks, before you start laying into people about how <i>"they must experience children, for they are God's gift"</i> - try remembering that God has been a little too generous with the gifts when we consider what the planet can sustain. God is like the uncle who brings us a puppy and a drum set. They seem like a good idea, but we have no place to put the drum set and now we have to feed and care for the puppy. We need fewer gifts please, God. <br />
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I know I am opening myself up to major critique with this point, as I have so many “littles,” but that is just my point. When I encounter people who have opted for a childless life, I thank them:</div>
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<em>"</em><strong>That is great! You may have noticed I screwed up the “just replace yourselves” thing and I really appreciate you helping me even it out. Besides, no sense in both of us going under.</strong>"</div>
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<b>3. Poverty</b></h3>
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This is a very real consideration. It even has a name, the <strong><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feminization_of_poverty" target="_blank">Feminization of Poverty</a></strong>, with lone mothers experiencing the highest risk for extreme poverty because their income is insufficient to feed their children.</div>
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So, before we get all <strong>high & mighty </strong>as we look down on women who choose to lower their risk of destitution, maybe we should stop a moment to think about it as a very wise choice. </div>
Also, if as a society we are so hell-bent on every womb being sacred and therefore obligated to hold human life - perhaps we should help a mother out now and again. <br />
Players all be like: <br />
"<strong>Have a baby! Have a baby! Have a baby!</strong>" <br />
Then: <br />
"<strong>Girl, why you have a baby when you can't take care of it!??!!!</strong>"<br />
Can't win for losing.<br />
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<b>4. Babies Kind of Suck</b></h3>
You know, I love me some babies. I am a total addict; I always need to hold them –I will even ask complete strangers if I can hold their babies. And thank God I have a fertile family that pops those little poopers out every few years because there is nothing better than <strong>baby head smell</strong>. <br />
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Buuuuuut.... truth be told, babies suck the life right out of you. You give up your body to make them and your sleep and sanity to raise them. And you get to deeply understand the phrase “this is why we can’t have nice things” for at least 20 years. </div>
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When the littles are young you spend every moment making sure they don't die, and when they are older you spend every moment fixing stuff they have broken or looking for stuff they have taken. </div>
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Seriously. Can someone tell me which of those little fuckers took my body wash?</div>
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I love my kids, but realistically - it is not for everyone. It is not even for most people. If social pressure did not exist, and we had a really clear picture of what it was like to raise children <strong>before having them</strong>, I think our over-population problem would fix itself in a generation.</div>
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So, women who do not have children, you are <b>perfectly complete</b> and amazing. </div>
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You have to answer to no one about your <b>mindful decisions</b> and your <b>powerful choices.</b></div>
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</div>
<div>
You are going to have more time and disposable income than those of us who made a different choice, so good for you! I hope you use both in ways that<b> make your life and the world even better.</b> </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
The mandate that you must have children to be a <i>"real woman"</i> is completely false, but <b>you are real. </b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
How could anyone ever tell you otherwise?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-50979792037923448552014-10-14T11:25:00.000-07:002014-10-14T11:25:17.665-07:00All or NothingHere is the thing about me <em>(and I bet it is about you as well)</em>: In the area of taking care of and loving myself, I am an all-or-nothing kind of girl.<br />
<br />
<img align="left" alt="BooBerry2" border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-lqNMUtQeObA/VD1k3Dq3Z2I/AAAAAAAAAy4/v-8GD2a4jLg/BooBerry2%25255B6%25255D.png?imgmax=800" height="244" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; float: left; margin: 0px 7px 0px 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="BooBerry2" width="196" />If I start my day off eating sugary cereal "<strong>because goddammit - it is Halloween</strong>" and<em> "</em><strong>I cannot live without me Boo Berry Crunch</strong><em>"</em> <em><span style="color: #666666;">[Editor’s note: read like a pirate]</span></em>. <br />
Then, for the rest of the day, I am all like: "<strong>Fuck it, not going to Yoga - I ate Boo-berry Crunch. You know what? Screw brushing my teeth, I am going to let the flavor linger! Hey! Pass me those s'mores - I need a Boo-berry Crunch chaser.</strong>"<br />
<br />
Seriously, all it takes is one wrong turn and I’m suddenly <strong>Forrest Gump runnin’ down the road</strong> <strong>to Unwellsville</strong>.<br />
This compulsive disregard for my health is clearly among the stupidest things I do (of which there is a tough competition brewing for that number-one spot).<br />
<br />
So why would I, a girl who normally acts with thoughtful intent, do this to myself? If my kids said to me: "<strong>It's okay Mom, I can have Cheez-Its - I already drank a Coke!</strong>" I would be all swivel-headed-finger waving: "<strong>Oh no you didn't just say that to me!</strong>" There is no way I would support the kind of thinking that leaves you powerless to turn yourself around and get it together.<br />
<br />
And yet...<br />
<br />
I do this to myself. <strong>We </strong>do this to ourselves. We give up on taking the best care of ourselves and totally let go. Why? How can we stop? <strong>Look, I don't know! If I knew, I wouldn't have such a Boo-berry Crunch problem!!!</strong><br />
But, I do know one thing: If you don't like yourself, you won't take care of yourself.<br />
Think about it, when you are driving a new car, all fresh and exciting, you love it. You clean it all the time, you buy scented car organizers, you get a custom brush and spray for polishing the dash.<br />
<br />
But when you are driving your 10-year-old minivan with the massive scrapes on the side caused by your 16-year-old "emerging driver" - with a worn vinyl interior that has long since given up - you just decide to eat like a <strong>cookie monster </strong>in that thing. Crumbs everywhere? You don't care! Driving down the road with a megaphone, shouting: "<strong>You really wanna test me, huh? You really wanna go? Hit me! I dare you! … Gimme cookie!!!!</strong>"<br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-iNdVOhh0fsQ/VD1k3h_FzJI/AAAAAAAAAzA/au50hQ5oMwE/s1600-h/CookieDriving2%25255B5%25255D.png"><img alt="CookieDriving2" border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-MimEuysUwYc/VD1k4ZI9BQI/AAAAAAAAAzI/AI01YPaIP34/CookieDriving2_thumb%25255B3%25255D.png?imgmax=800" height="268" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 11px 0px 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="CookieDriving2" width="397" /></a><br />
You don't take care of what you don't like.<br />
<br />
And conversely, if you like something, it is natural for you to take care of it. When you are loving yourself and feeling good about yourself, you make wise choices. Start the day with exercise or checking things off your list, and you’ll continue to honor and be kind to yourself throughout the day.<br />
Think about it: it is easier to motivate yourself to clean house when it is already essentially clean. When you walk in to your kitchen and find evidence the Tasmanian Devil has wrestled with a Slurpy machine, and lost, you are more likely to throw your bags on the counter, contribute to the mess, and ignore it a while longer. It’s hard to show <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/tender_loving_care" target="_blank">TLC</a> to a kitchen when your feet are sticking to the floor. On the other hand, when you have been loving and taking care of your kitchen, you walk in, put everything away, maybe wipe down the counter again just to see it sparkle - you treat THAT kitchen like a precious gem.<br />
So, this self-bashing thing we do? Counter productive. When you are hating on yourself, saying: "<strong>Boo Berry Crunch? Really? What are you, six years old? Forget it! You can't even take care of yourself!!!</strong>" (I know this seems like excessive breakfast conversation – but, trust me, it can happen). When you are all <strong>straight-up meanie pants </strong>to yourself - then of course you are not going to dote on yourself. You are kind of pissed at you. Why should you care what you do? <br />
Drink tequilla! Don't buckle up! Yolo!<br />
So, my friends, if you are not liking yourself - fake it. Brush and floss. Spend time making your hair look great. Take a long walk in a gorgeous place. Start taking really good care of yourself and you will start to love yourself - as if you were that scrappy little orphan kitten you nursed when it was a baby. Oh, how could you not love little Scrappy? It was up to you to care for him - and we always love what we take care of.<br />
In the space between taking care of yourself and hating yourself, when you are teetering between all or nothing - always go for the all. If you can't do that, something is better than nothing, even faking it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-25232486824807724932014-09-30T08:32:00.000-07:002014-09-30T12:17:52.031-07:00Back Off Dress Codes - This is Not Your CallOk, I am pissed. The Dress Code thing has always been an issue for me - but we are at<strong> code-fucking-orange</strong> here people. <br />
That's right, girls are getting hazed and shamed. They are being <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/chaperone-speaks-va-prom-controversy-article-1.1800200" target="_blank">kicked out of proms</a>, <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/chaperone-speaks-va-prom-controversy-article-1.1800200" target="_blank">made to wear scarlet letter suits</a>, and are being <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/08/28/oklahoma-superintendent-skanks-dress-code_n_5730466.html" target="_blank">called skanks</a> by those in authority – the same teachers and administrators we trust to take care of our girls<br /><br />This is not so different from the public humiliation (and sometimes beatings) the Taliban forces onto women refusing to wear burqas, my friends.<br /><br />How many young women need to be humiliated and left in tears before we collectively say <strong>“Knock it off!”</strong>? It’s time we stop making teenage bra straps a political issue.<br /><br />To be clear, I like dress codes and I enforce them in my home. I talk to my kids about the messages their clothes send to the world and I talk to them about who they want to be and who they want to look like. I support school uniforms for schools deciding they need them.<br /><br /><strong>I do not, however, support bullshit.</strong><br /><br />And, make no mistake: dress codes are increasingly becoming an excuse for sexualizing women and disgracing young girls for the apparent pleasure of those in power. It’s bullshit.<br /><br />So, <strong>people in positions of authority over young people</strong>: I will kindly ask you to just stop.<br /><br />“<em>Stop what?</em>” you ask? I’m so happy you asked for clarification. Here it is:<br />
<h3>
<b></b><b>1) Stop humiliating our daughters.</b></h3>
Yes, <em>humiliating </em>them. Stop pulling them out of a group to shame them. Stop conducting the "inspections" in front of others. Stop asking them to bend over so everyone can see how short their skirts are. These are young women - not your playthings. And the claim that you "just want them to respect themselves" feels disingenuous when you treat them like cattle for sale. Just stop it.<br /><br />And don't give me the old "<em>Dress codes apply to both boys and girls</em>" argument. <br />
<strong>No they fucking don't and you know it</strong>.<br />
The boys in <a href="http://www.armytimes.com/article/20140926/NEWS02/309260050/School-National-Guard-T-shirt-violates-dress-code" target="_blank">this situation</a> were not sent home, made to put on different clothes, or singled out at a school assembly. Their only consequence: they were respectfully asked if they could adhere to the school’s dress code in the future. Nice. By the way kids, this is the way violations should be handled, <strong>regardless of gender</strong>.<br />
My 16-year-old son regularly violates the dress code at his school, and is repeatedly vocal to teachers and administrators that no dress code consequences will come his way because he is a boy. So far he is right.<br /><br />It is about <strong>curves </strong>and <strong>boobs </strong>and <strong>legs </strong>and <strong>butts </strong>- <strong>on girls</strong>. It is a gender issue, so stop the bullshit.<b><br /></b><br />
<h3>
<b></b><b>2) Stop micro-managing decency.</b></h3>
The newest items to be flagged for <a href="http://www.wjla.com/articles/2014/04/leggings-in-the-classroom-banned-by-illinois-school-dress-code-102192.html" target="_blank">dress code persecution</a> are <strong>leggings </strong>and <strong>yoga pants</strong>.<br /><br /><strong>What the fuck is that all about?</strong><br /><br />First of all, I have yoga pants that happen to be <strong>indiscernible </strong>from dress pants. I have one kid who is so skinny that leggings look like regular pants, and I have another with legs so muscular they can only fit into pants made out of stretchy material. Soooooooo..... what is this rule about, exactly? The <strong>shape </strong>of the pant? The fit? The material? Aren't we getting a bit ridiculous here? Are teachers now going to perform cotton/spandex ratio checks? Stitching/seam/pocket checks? This is getting weird.<br /><br />Leggings are comfy and good for everyone, even those with tricky figures (hence my personal collection of <a href="http://uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Category:Things_that_don't_exist" target="_blank">Ray Liotta yoga pants</a>). Leggings and yoga pants actually provide pretty good skin coverage. So why are we banning them again? Is it because someone has decided they are sexy, and so now we are sexualizing all those who wear them? Don't strip us of our precious yoga pants. We need them.<br /><br />This inspires an “<strong>I'll show you</strong>” attitude; students will find a way to wear something that covers head to toe and isn't <i>technically </i>see-through (but kind of is… but not… but yes…). Rigid rules invite rebellion.<br />
<h3>
<b></b><b>3) Stop teaching our sons they are powerless.</b></h3>
Although dress code restrictions and consequences don't seem to ever apply to boys, the reason behind them certainly does. Most dress codes are put into place for the purpose of making sure <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-27891488" target="_blank">the animalistic boys don't get distracted</a>. <br /><br />There are so many ways in which this is wrong. Let's cover the top three:<br /><br />First, why why why do we think so little of our boys? What are they? Crazy unbalanced aggressors on the precipice of reaching a sexy-time frenzy the moment a female’s lower limbs enter their sight? <br />
Are they so unable to handle life that the sight of a bra strap might render them incapable of learning, or even functioning?<br /><br />Seriously. Boys know girls have legs. And shoulders. Let's give them some credit.<br /><br />Second, ripping dress-code-violating girls out of class and sending them home prioritizes the rights of the boys (to learn without "distractions") over the rights of girls (to simply attend school). Shouldn’t we hold the rights of our young girls to attend school just as sacredly as we do for our boys?<br /><br />Third, any policy that delivers humiliating messages to females (while being completely silent to males) sends a strong message to <strong>both genders </strong>that men are weak (and must be protected and cannot be held responsible for their actions). And if men are not responsible for their actions, who are? Well, by process of elimination, <strong>it must be the women</strong>.<br /><strong><br /></strong>So when schools enforce dress codes through humiliation, what they are really doing is indoctrinating our young men and women into a mindset that is <strong>remarkably harmonious with </strong><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rape_culture" target="_blank"><strong>rape culture</strong></a>.<br /><br />It seems we have some baggage to unpack here.<br /><br />Speaking of which...<br />
<h3>
<b>4) Stop putting YOUR baggage on our kids.</b></h3>
If you’re a school administrator or teacher and you get turned-on or flustered by an insufficient amount of cloth between you and a budding teenage girl – I suggest reevaluating yourself<em> - </em>not the school policy. Or maybe you should consider a different career, far far away from the schools that hold our vulnerable boys and girls. <br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76fcK3pwWz0" target="_blank">Your boner, your problem</a>.<br />
<h3>
<b></b><b>5) Stop thinking this is yours to control.</b></h3>
Public school is where the dress code drama is playing out. Public school is obligated to provide an education to all. Even to those in booty shorts.<br /><br />Seriously, what is the ultimate repercussion? Are we really going to kick out those who don't comply? You can make suggestions, but ultimately, I don't think it makes sense to expel someone over a few inches of cloth. <br /><br />I guess you could always just participate in revisionist history and photoshop all students to conform to your idea of what they need to look like, as a <a href="http://thinkprogress.org/health/2014/05/29/3442567/utah-high-school-yearbook/" target="_blank">school in Utah</a> did. Of course, they <strong>only manipulated photos of girls </strong>in the yearbook.<br />
…<br /><br />Ultimately, I am the parent. It is up to me to explain that the real problem with short shorts is that your sweaty thighs rub against the seat where other sweaty thighs have rubbed. That is super yucky and we all need to agree that dress codes protecting us from the ravages of unbridled thigh sweat are good.<br />
Really good.<br /><br />But dress codes with no foundation in safety, which allow school authorities to feel superior as they target and shame the girls, are bad.<br />
Really bad.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-53948509895418586972014-09-20T06:27:00.000-07:002014-09-20T07:37:35.098-07:00Why I am Not a "Plan B" Parent<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"> <tbody>
<tr> <td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_7NLd7386qw/VBhLDTwDOEI/AAAAAAAAAw0/kEMKRK9jKEY/s1600/1385544_10153411898820252_724114254_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_7NLd7386qw/VBhLDTwDOEI/AAAAAAAAAw0/kEMKRK9jKEY/s1600/1385544_10153411898820252_724114254_n.jpg" height="320" width="245" /></a></td></tr>
<tr> <td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Totally OK with whatever path these guys choose,<br />
even if they want to be birds. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I grew up in kind of a rich town, as kind of a poor kid. Not truly poor; I recognize that my family owned their own house and we had food to eat, but everything is relative.<br />
<br />
When you grow up in a rich town but you can't afford a bicycle, you kind of feel poor.<br />
<br />
When it was time for my friends and I to graduate high school, I felt the difference between the haves and have-nots once again. This time, however, I was grateful. It was time to choose colleges and programs of study, and surprisingly time for some parents to exert control, as evidenced through the words of my friends, which sounded a lot like this:<br />
<br />
"I want to be a rock star, but my parents and I compromised on <strong>sound editing</strong>."<br />
<br />
"I can't major in theater because that is impractical, so I am going to major in <strong>hotel restaurant management</strong>."<br />
<br />
"I know I would be a great teacher, but my parents said if I go into teaching, I have to attend a state school and not the one I really want. So, I am going to <strong>med school</strong>."<br />
<br />
And there were many, many more disappointed friends and almost twice as many nervous parents.<br />
<br />
This concept was foreign. "<strong>How can it be up to your parents?</strong>" I mind-screamed to myself (and at them, but they apparently didn’t hear my mind-scream). But there was an answer: the parents get to decide <strong>because they are paying</strong>. This can occur over and over with weddings and even places to live. Parents pay so they get to choose.<br />
Huh?<br />
<br />
I paid my own way through college, and everything else for that matter - so the only thing I ever did was exactly what I wanted to do. Thank god.<br />
<br />
With moderate poverty comes moderate freedom. Or maybe with fierce independence comes fierce freedom.<br />
<br />
I was so thrilled because I could not wrap my head around the parental viewpoint in this scenario. Sooooo.... your kid has passion about something and you think they should not? Your kid has a talent and you are working hard to convince them to NOT exploit it? Your kid shares their big dream with you and outlines a path to pursue it, and you come back with "What about a plan B?"?!?!?!?!?!?!<br />
<br />
<strong>Are you kidding me, head-up-your-ass-parents? </strong><br />
Do you know how many people live their whole lives and are never passionate about anything? Do you know how much amazingness has been tamped down by parents saying things like "Of course I believe in you, I want you to be an astronaut, I just ALSO want you to be an accountant. Just in case."<br />
<br />
At least be honest and say it: "I believe in you…. but not really."<br />
<br />
I get it. We love our kids. We want to make sure they’ll be able to support themselves. I want that too, but I want nothing more than for my kids to be happy in whatever life they choose. I don't know what that path will look like - but I do know this: I cannot choose it for them.<br />
<br />
I want my kids to reach for every brass ring, pursue every far-off fantasy, and just be in a world where whatever place they have in it, I honor them.<br />
<br />
And so I deliberately choose to honor them in their own <strong>Plan A awesomeness</strong>.<br />
<br />
Currently, my 5-year-old wants to be a "fashion girl" and my 4-year-old wants to be a drummer/superhero.<br />
<br />
Go for it, littles! No safety net, no Plan B. Just go for it and be a drummer/superhero/fashion person/thing. Throw yourself into it with your whole heart and know that your mom could not be more proud.<br />
<br />
<em>[Editor’s Note: Dad is proud too, and currently working on ways to augment the drum set so it’s better suited to fight crime…]</em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-63927917605048784012014-09-16T21:41:00.001-07:002014-09-16T21:41:17.843-07:00Pumpkin Parenting<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h6bn7ruKVWs/VBkQYLxYHkI/AAAAAAAAAxE/ocACkQPgn68/s1600/1907788_10152650109607299_1027328712528195687_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h6bn7ruKVWs/VBkQYLxYHkI/AAAAAAAAAxE/ocACkQPgn68/s1600/1907788_10152650109607299_1027328712528195687_n.jpg" height="304" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bringing up Pumpkin </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last November I tossed rotting Jack-o-lanterns into an unused garden bed and hoped for the best. I occasionally watered it, I occasionally put some compost in there with it, but I mostly left it alone.<br />
<br />
This summer I was happy to see huge leaves emerging from the garden bed, and now there is at least one sweet little orange pumpkin adorning our front lawn.<br />
<br />
I love this pumpkin.<br />
<br />
With almost no help from me, it formed into just what it was meant to be. I just had to plant the seed, step back, and allow it the freedom to become the pumpkin it was meant to be.<br />
<br />
I think of parenting as just that. As a parent, you can fuss over your pumpkin child, watering it all the time, picking off all the other leaves so that your pumpkin kid gets all the nutrients and grows bigger than the other pumpkins, you can pick off the grubs and scrub the leaves with baking soda - I would imagine with all the books about gardening and parenting, you could put all your time and energy into the care and feeding of your pumpkin, or your child.<br />
<br />
Or, you could step back and watch it grow, and love it for exactly who it is. In my experience, this is a good way to get a really great pumpkin.<br />
<br />
I was just at a back-to-school night where I encountered a bunch of gardener/parents who were a lot more energetic than I am. This was high school. I would imagine that by the time your pumpkin is in high school, your pumpkin takes care of business, more or less, on its own.<br />
<br />
But, oh no. I would be wrong.<br />
<br />
These parents wanted to know about every little thing their pumpkin was doing, who they were sitting next to, every single activity they did in class, and even their locker combination. There were a lot of expert gardeners in there.<br />
<br />
The over-gardening I saw at back-to-school night worried me. Here is why: Today <br />
my real life pumpkin had a problem. The big leaves that normally shade the little guy were covered with a white with a fungus and starting to die. I intervened. I cut off the infected leaves and I sprayed a solution to help contain the problem. I stepped in to "help", but I am not sure I really did.<br />
<br />
Left on their own to find their way, pumpkins and children usually do just that. They figure it out and become stronger in the process. Now that I have stepped in, my poor little pumpkin sits in my yard unprotected by its huge fungus leaves, without the strength of having survived on its own. He seems so vulnerable and alone out there.<br />
<br />
I wonder about all those back-to-school night pumpkins. With all the aggressive landscaping done on their behalf, how are ever going to be able to really grow, to learn how to overcome problems, and experience that feeling you get when you have worked through a difficult situation and come out on the other side, on your own?<br />
<br />
So, sometimes pumpkins need help. Maybe pruning the plant and spraying the solution was the right thing to do. But, maybe it wasn't. But I do know I have robbed my little pumpkin of the joy of unadulterated growing up. From now on, I will simply love my little garden friend and hope for the best. I think it is strong enough to become a fine Jack-o-lantern someday.<br />
<br />
And, as for my other little pumpkins, I realize I may need to prune on occasion - maybe even spray them with a baking soda solution every once in a while. But I do know that I will also continue to simply love them and know they are strong enough to handle adversity and become some seriously bad ass pumpkins because of it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yZACf-iTTMw/VBL_d53go3I/AAAAAAAAAwk/q8bMVt0LPfc/s1600/image%2B(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yZACf-iTTMw/VBL_d53go3I/AAAAAAAAAwk/q8bMVt0LPfc/s1600/image%2B(1).jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We actually have fewer pumpkin kids than pictured here</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-64799407745950220012014-09-09T10:13:00.000-07:002014-09-09T10:13:18.784-07:00Yes, I Go To Church<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"> <tbody>
<tr> <td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Lm_hu59QTM/VA0PczNuBWI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/Nj85p7GoUpI/s1600/1044100_10154298731295252_5669182394039087120_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Lm_hu59QTM/VA0PczNuBWI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/Nj85p7GoUpI/s1600/1044100_10154298731295252_5669182394039087120_n.jpg" height="320" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr> <td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The four year old feeling a previous service.<br />
<i>Photo credit Sean Elliot</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was on a panel the other day and these words found their way out of my mouth: <br />
"When I teach Sunday school – " <br />
I was quickly interrupted.<br /><br />"Wait, what!? YOU teach Sunday school?"<br /><br />At first I was confused. Is that weird? Am I unqualified? Must I believe in a literal God first? <br />
And then I realized, their shock had nothing to do with any of that. They were shocked because I swear like a truck driving gangster sailor, question everything that doesn't make sense to me, and because "traditional family values" mean nothing to me simply because they are traditional.<br /><br />They were shocked because of their very narrow view of who goes to church. Church-going folk are brainwashed, non-questioning, non-progressive simpletons who would not know what to do or think without someone at the pulpit telling them.<br /><br />I am not sure why church received such a bum-rap among intellectuals. Perhaps it can be linked to some of the loudest religious voices preaching intolerance and hate. Perhaps it has to do with the "believe without questioning" attitude in some churches, such as the one I grew up in. Perhaps it has to do with people dismissing it as "the opiate of the masses". Oh wait. Maybe that is YouTube.<br /><br />But here is the thing: why is an opiate for the masses a bad thing? Couldn't this world, with all of its suffering and tragedy, use a pain reliever at least once a week?<br /><br />Maybe we should rethink this opiate concept.<br /><br />This past Sunday morning was rough. After a Saturday night roller derby bout, a sleepover with three 12-year-old girls, and an early morning dog grooming appointment, I was trying my best to wrangle the troops for a 10 o'clock church service.<br /><br />It didn't go well.<br /><br />I had to leave more than half my soldiers on the battlefield of the breakfast table and ended up dragging only two kids with me. The littlest one was particularly cranky and wanted no part of walking into the church building. He was whiney; he was squirmy; he was trying to run back to the car at every opportunity. I held him, I wrestled him, and I whispered in his ear "Just come in with me and we will cuddle." I won that battle. Sort of.<br /><br />As I sat in the service, my sweet four-year-old boy resisted my cuddle, stiffened his body so I couldn't hold him, and managed to wriggle to the floor twice. I scooped him up again and hoped for the best.<br /><br />Then it happened, a song about light from a beautiful trio of singers began and his little body softened. He turned to watch and I saw his face go from grumpy to calm. By the time the choir sang, he was smiling. Something had washed over him. And in that moment, that same peaceful something had washed over me.<br /><br />I get it. That is why I go to church.<br /><br />For me, there is community, there is mindfulness, and there are social justice projects. But above all, there is that feeling of the deepest inhale I can imagine taking, followed by an exhale that is nothing short of magic. That exhale lets go of the tension, releases the petty irritations, and puts into perspective my role in this very large and infinite universe. That exhale tells me everything will be ok. Or it won't. Either way, the world will keep turning and I will do my best to turn with it.<br /><br />It doesn't always happen, to be honest. Not every Sunday is a home run. Some Sundays don't feel like opium at all.<br /><br />But some do.<br /><br />And for me and my four-year-old, this Sunday was just the deep breath we needed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-88172391054682838842014-06-16T09:18:00.001-07:002014-06-21T18:34:55.273-07:00Genius Fish<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="line-height: 1.15;">So, you know that quote that says:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>"Everybody is a genius. But, if you judge a fish simply by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."</b></span><br />
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Whoever said that was probably NOT a very good tree climber.<br />
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At any rate, I seem to have several fish trying to climb trees in my house.<br />
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<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-dn3bzDvBr58/U5zDz0i5QeI/AAAAAAAAAoc/T55KrnbnTrk/s1600-h/ClimbingTrees%25255B5%25255D.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ClimbingTrees" border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Pnh5PZ4rGBM/U5zD0TjQB_I/AAAAAAAAAok/F67Yeo2AF_U/ClimbingTrees_thumb%25255B3%25255D.png?imgmax=800" height="321" style="background-image: none; border-width: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="ClimbingTrees" width="479" /></a>It is no surprise really. <br />
We are always telling the kids that busywork (e.g., homework without any discernable purpose) is kind of bullshit and real learning takes place when they ask questions and challenge themselves.<br />
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As a result, they don't always do homework.<br />
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Actually, they only do homework when they, themselves feel compelled to do it.<br />
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My 12-year-old is getting a <strong>D </strong>in band even though she plays the Saxophone really well. On principle, she refuses to fill out and have me sign practice time sheets because she feels she should be judged only on her ability to play.<br />
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In theory, I am good with all of their choices. The trick is in being relaxed about the bad grades, grades that have no real reflection on the brilliant kid. <br />
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But, what if I am wrong? What if teaching my kids to think outside the box and question authority is going to leave them lonely and unhappy in life? What if grades really are the end all be all and they will be left with no real options in the world? Can they get by in life by just being clever and snarky?<br />
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Sure they can. I do. <br />
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We are on the path of recognizing our genius fish for exactly who they are and I think it is best to just keep on keeping on. <br />
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Us: "School is a tool for you to use. The teachers work for you. It’s not the other way around. You can get great grades and see what school has to offer then (Hint: a lot). Or you can learn as much as you can without being invested in grades - or you can drop out and become a rock star. Whatever you do, <strong>grab life by the balls</strong>! Or, at the very least cup the balls, tickle them a bit. Or, slap the balls. <em>Do something </em>with life’s balls. But whatever you do, do it on your terms."<br />
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Yes, we really say that. You do not want to go through life ignoring life’s balls.<br />
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Sometimes the wonderful things about kids don't show up on report cards or awards. Sometimes you have to pay careful attention to notice when your fish is doing something other than climbing a tree.<br />
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<img align="left" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LC39pw2rFds/U5tr74gcHbI/AAAAAAAAAoI/Glfh7xj1jQA/s1600/image+(2).jpeg" height="320" style="display: inline; float: left; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px;" width="240" /><br />
Spencer (now 16) is probably sneaking by with a C in his history class, but that doesn’t stop him from creating a study guide for his friends.<br />
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I include a few samples for anyone who wants to learn more about history:<br />
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<strong>Emmett Till</strong>. A 14-year-old African-American boy murdered in Mississippi for flirting with a white woman. They took the boy away to a barn, beat him and gouged out one of his eyes, shot him through the head, disposing his body in the Tallahatchie River. Three days later, Till's mom had an open-casket funeral which really grossed people out cause he was mad fucked-up and that got a lot of people really angry and <strong>BOOM</strong>! <strong>Civil Rights Motherfucker!</strong><br />
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<strong>Malcolm X</strong>. Look at that sick ass name - like damn!<br />
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<strong>March On Washington</strong>. The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom or "The Great March on Washington", was one of the <strong>largest political rallies </strong>for human rights in United States history. Martin Luther King delivered his historic "I Have a Dream" speech, calling for an end to racism. Also you know that thing where the <strong>Titanic crashed because so many time travelers were on board trying to save it?</strong> Well I think the reason so many people marched on Washington is because all the time travelers wanted to see it. Further proof: Even our teacher Mr. Walter said if he could go back in time <strong>it would be to that day</strong> - so I'm just sayin'.<br />
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So, if we spend all of our time getting this guy to climb trees and do conventional homework and put his square peg of a brain into round holes, we never get to simply enjoy what happens when our little genius fish swim like crazy, all the way upstream:-)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-26355710277382766382014-05-30T14:20:00.003-07:002014-05-30T14:39:44.593-07:00It is NOT OK to RapeHopefully, this is a message we have already heard. However, there are four recent headlines that make me feel like this is a message that bears repeating.<br />
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Alleged gang rape, hanging of two girls in India <br />sparks global outrage</h3>
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“If I Can’t Have Them, No One Will” <br />Man goes on killing spree when women reject him</h3>
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Teenage girl forced to leave school prom after 'ogling' dads complained her dress and dancing would give their sons 'impure thoughts'</h3>
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Utah High School Photoshops Female Yearbook Photos to Show Less Skin</h3>
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Huh? Am I seriously comparing horrific acts of violence with a little photo shop hack job?<br />
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Yes, yes I am.<br />
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Let me expand on the title of this blog, maybe tack on a few extra rules, just for the outrage of it.<br />
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1. It is NOT OK to rape</div>
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2. t is NOT OK to think you are entitled to another person's body</div>
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3. It is NOT OK to make another person responsible for how you think of them</div>
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4. It is NOT OK to make arbitrary rules about another person's body<br />
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If you think these stories are disconnected, that they are not indicators of a dangerous attitude we have about women, then you are simply wrong. <br />
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Administrators in a Utah high school decided it would be okay to Photoshop yearbook pictures of young women (and only women) without their permission. They no doubt felt justified in this decision, because the unaltered images might be considered provocative. The sweet, fresh-faced girls may be driving the unwilling into sinful thoughts because un-Photoshopped, we can see that these girls are clearly humans. With arms.</div>
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Now, I could talk about how benign these pictures are - or I could focus on the bigger issue which is that people in authority are giving young women the message that they are not in control of their own bodies. That ownership and power over the way you look belongs to the beholders. <br />
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So if you make unapproved choices about what message you want to send to the world through your clothing - the world will just take your decision-making power away, as the high school administrators did to the women in the yearbook.<br />
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And this seems reasonable to many.<br />
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If a woman makes the unacceptable choice of not having sex with a man, he will take her decision making power away, as the madman did when he felt rejected.<br />
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And this seems reasonable to many. Or, if not reasonable, unavoidable.<br />
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When we make women responsible for how men may or may not react, it gives the message that men are not able to control themselves.<br />
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Do we really think so little of men?<br />
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Do we really think so little of women?<br />
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And don't give me this bullshit about "modesty" and "appropriateness" - I don't see anyone Photoshopping jeans on the guys who walk around with their pants lower than their crotch and their undies showing.<br />
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I don't see anyone Photoshopping ties on young men who are "not dressed up enough" for their high school yearbook.<br />
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I don't hear people talking about how men mowing the lawn without shirts on is, of course, going to incite attacks from frenzied fans. <br />
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This is about women. <br />
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This is about a terrifying attitude that women are rightfully at risk because of their provocative female nature. '<br />
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This is all connected<br />
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And it is bullshit.<br />
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And just to clarify for anyone who still needs it:<br />
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It is NOT OK to blame other people for your behavior.<br />
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It is NOT OK to rape.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-88746883220062799112014-05-27T10:37:00.002-07:002014-05-27T10:37:39.605-07:00Renewing You MarriageWell, invitations are ordered and I am in the process of marrying the love of my life (again).<br />
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My husband/editor and I have decided to live and relationship mindfully - and so getting remarried every 5 years is part of the plan.<br />
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I explain it here:<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-8924943321517383822014-05-24T09:49:00.000-07:002014-05-24T09:49:02.825-07:00I Wear a Bikini because… Fuck You<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-nEPOVGxZx3c/U3-lXo2eYZI/AAAAAAAAAnI/BRVDnTb--pQ/s1600-h/KarenBikini%25255B9%25255D.png"><img alt="KarenBikini" border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ZRLVPc_nVoc/U3-lYtYMwkI/AAAAAAAAAnM/lJR4nqH5cME/KarenBikini_thumb%25255B7%25255D.png?imgmax=800" height="294" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="KarenBikini" width="439" /></a><br />
Here are the top six reasons why I, as a <strong>43-year-old</strong>, <strong>size 12</strong>, <strong>mother of four, woman with thunder thighs</strong>, feel totally justified in rocking a two piece.<br /><br />1. <strong>I Don't Give a Shit</strong><br />I actually do not exist for your viewing pleasure and your ideas about who should and should not be seen in a bikini are 0% my concern.<br /><br />I have not always been married to the wonderful, supportive, man among men, husband/editor that I am now married to. I was once married to a man who said things like:<br /><br /><i>"They really should not make bikinis in any size over 8"</i><br /><br />Now, I have not been a size 8 since I was about 8 years old - so this was kind of a <em>dick move </em>on his part. It also confirmed my suspicions that people who make "rules" about how other people should treat their bodies are best left alone - far away from any people who may inadvertently offend them.<br /><br />I also have sisters who regularly say things like:<br /><br /><i>"She has no business being in a bikini"</i><br /><br />Well, lucky for me I am not wearing a bikini to drum up business. <br /><br />I was on the beach in Miami once when a 300lb grandma walked happily down the beach in a brightly colored two-piece. This was intensely disturbing to a group of vacationing, suburban women talking about yoga addiction, <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=shame%20eat" target="_blank">shame eating</a>, and jeggings.There were gasps, there were sighs, and there was one Zanax-deprived woman, so distraught, crying out:<br /><i><br /></i><i>"That is just not right"</i><br /><br />It is a bathing suit people. Perhaps we should all just relax.<br /><br />2. <strong>I Have a Bikini Body</strong><br />I know this because I put an actual bikini… on my body. If you are waiting to break out the bikini when your body is perfect, resign yourself to a one piece.<br /><br />3. <strong>It is Closer to Being Naked</strong><br />Swimming is best done naked. When laws of society make that awkward - we should at least be able to swim with the least amount of wet fabric against our bodies.<br /><br />4. <strong>My Belly Has Earned It</strong><br />If there is one part if my body that should be able to do whatever the fuck it wants. it is my mid-section. Four of the greatest people I know have lived there. Hard working = flauntable.<br /><br />5. <strong>I Have Daughters</strong><br />I want to show them a woman comfortable in her body, who is active right along side them. A woman who’s not sitting poolside under a big cover-up, because anything less might be considered inappropriate. <br /><br />6. <strong>It is by Popular Request</strong><br />Well, maybe not <i>popular </i>- but certainly frequent - requests come in for me to wear a bikini. Ok, it is only ever my husband/editor who asks - nay, pleads, for this particular ensemble. But, he is tenacious and I like to throw him a bone every once in a while. <span style="color: #666666;"><em>[Editor’s note: Thanks, honey, for the bone]</em></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com157tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-25537647468404570072014-04-10T07:44:00.000-07:002014-04-10T07:44:56.468-07:00Beautiful<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7D1qH6ARYqM/Uzylb_iIGHI/AAAAAAAAAms/h2-z9ROxJEA/s1600/photo+(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7D1qH6ARYqM/Uzylb_iIGHI/AAAAAAAAAms/h2-z9ROxJEA/s1600/photo+(23).JPG" height="305" width="320" /></a>I was brushing my teeth in my bathroom as Gia Luna (5) watched me from the edge of the tub.<br />
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Gia Luna: "Mommy, when I grow up will I be as beautiful as you are?"<br />
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I choked on my toothpaste.<br />
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I saw her sweet little reflection in the mirror, her face earnest as she waited for a response she hoped would be affirmative. In all sincerity, she was hoping to be assured that she could look like...me.<br />
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My brows furrowed, my mind raced. Are you kidding me? I thought. Are you really setting the bar that low? You are gorgeous, you are radiant, you are young and unstoppable! Why would you want to look like me, when you actually look like you? Good God girl! You have flawless skin, puffy lips, big blue eyes and your father's metabolism. Haven't you noticed my nose is too big? My hair is a fire hazard? My..... and then I stopped.<br />
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Is that really who I want to be?<br />
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Fighting with passion so others will realize how unattractive I am? My five year old daughter tells me I am beautiful and I am disagreeing with her? I have this moment to show her how to handle a compliment with grace, to be comfortable in loving yourself, to show her strength is a part of beauty.<br />
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I was not going to fuck it up.<br />
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"Yes." I said, biting my tongue so I didn't say "You will be even more beautiful! Way prettier than I have ever dreamed of being!"<br />
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Gia Luna didn't need to hear that. She just needed to know she could be like her hero, and that hero is me.<br />
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And that is really beautiful. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-74102734583757841682014-04-02T18:45:00.000-07:002014-04-02T18:45:44.898-07:00I Kid Because I LoveYesterday was April Fool's Day.<br /><br />It is kind of a big deal in my house, mostly because we are a bunch of a$$holes who like to show our love by humiliating each other. I know we are flawed, but we are happy.<br /><br />Well, at least most of us are.<br /><br />My Aspergian husband/editor is mostly just confused. He doesn't really get teasing as a form of love. "Teasing is illogical" says the Vulcan who understands most emotions by what he reads about them "The message conveyed opposes our previously agreed-upon strategy in which we strive to ensure every family member feels safe; trust is essential to the perception of safety."<br /><br />Oh, Spock.<br /><br />The interesting thing about loving someone on the Autism spectrum who is less-than-intuitive in the emotional intelligence department, is that it makes you question your own relationship towards emotion. I grew up with teasing as the main form of affection. Seriously, teasing equaled love in my formative years. I got loud and clear messages of "I love you no matter what" and "I am proud of you" - but always, <strong>ALWAYS </strong>couched in glib remarks and backhanded compliments. The idea of saying those things and not insulting each other at the same time was just way too cheesy… and vulnerable.<br /><br />Yes, the irony of Spock being more emotionally healthy than I am is not lost on me.<br /><br />But now I am a grown woman, a mindful adult raising my own children. I am free to break from my negative relationship feedback loop and plow forward with honesty and integrity in my heart and my words.<br /><br />Buuuuuuuut…. I can't. I simply can't. I am too hardwired for sassy comebacks and the concept of "Kids, if it makes me laugh, you can get away with it."<br /><br />It makes for some interesting children. I was driving one day with Spencer (15) and he was telling me about his school antics, it was pretty metal - but it included some mild harassment.<br /><br />Me: "Why can't you just be nice, like your best friend Logan?"<span style="color: maroon;"> *</span><br />Spencer: "Mom, you can either have nice, or you can have funny. You chose funny. You're welcome."<br /><br />So, long story short, I came home with a half-dozen “cream-filled” doughnuts (in actually I had secretly scooped out the cream and replaced it with mayonnaise). It was pretty gross, maybe a little cruel, and it was AWESOME. Spock was horrified. He is seriously evaluating the relationship at this point. The reactions of the children were priceless.<br /><br />Cheyenne (13) was totally grossed out, ran around the house screaming and scouring her tongue and gobbling gum to get the nasty taste out of her mouth, dramatically inquiring "How could you do this? Why? Why?"<br /><br />Spencer (15) realized it was mayo and took one more bite, declaring "Still a doughnut."<br /><br />Boo (11), ever the skeptic, smelled, licked, and tossed it in the sink.<br /><br />Gia (5) cried.<br /><br />Campbell (3) ate two entire donuts and asked for one more.<br /><br />So, in conclusion, I love my kids and would do anything for them - except give up a really good joke or story at their expense. And that is why this is not so much a parenting advice blog as a realization that we are all deeply flawed.<br /><br />And mayo-filled doughnuts are deeply funny.<br />
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<i><span style="color: maroon;">*I realize conventional wisdom frowns upon comparing kids to others - but I am clearly not the perfect parent - or person, for that matter. Give a girl a break. He knows I love him for exactly who he is….</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: maroon;">Usually. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: maroon;">Sometimes. </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: maroon;">At least I keep him fed.</span></i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-79984825293235943082013-12-05T09:11:00.000-08:002013-12-05T09:11:18.020-08:00Warriors in Stretch PantsMommies are mad.<br />
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First there was <a href="http://www.mariakang.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/Maria-Kang1.jpg" target="_blank">Maria Kang</a> who put a picture of her chiseled body and her three young children out with the caption "What’s Your Excuse?" and everyone freaked out thinking she was fat-shaming and creating unrealistic expectations about post-baby bodies. Now there is <a href="http://images.essentialbaby.com.au/2013/12/02/4973226/caro-narrow-300x0.jpg" target="_blank">Caroline Berg Eriksen</a> who posted her flat-stomach selfie in her undies four days after giving birth and it has been called "obscene" and "an act of war".<br />
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Yes, mommies are mad - and kind of missing the point.<br />
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When we look at photos of these strong mommies, how are we focused on anything other that the fact that she just made a person? She is a goddess and another human being just emerged from that body. She is a creator. Her amazing body has worked exactly how its majestic nature is meant to, which is nothing less than remarkable. She is a warrior in stretch pants (or undies as the case may be). <br />
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That is what we should be focused on.<br />
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These women are clearly blessed with great genetics and they deserve a lot of credit for taking fitness so seriously, but to say they are waging war seems a little crazy. Maybe, just maybe, they are on their journey and it is not all about you. They are living their lives and not waging war.<br />
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When Caroline posted a picture of herself four days after her delivery, she did it with the caption "I feel so empty, and still not." That feels true to me – a sentiment I have felt when I know my little friend is no longer with me in the same way. It seems like a universal feeling for those who have used their bodies to create life, not an obscene comment.<br />
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Can't we just be a little more open minded and tolerant and accept these women for exactly who they are? If we aren't supporting moms who are fit after pregnancy, we aren't supporting moms. And that is a mistake.<br />
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New moms need support. All new moms.<br />
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We don’t really know these women from a two-dimensional image. We don't know about their happiness or their struggles. Let's just assume they are doing their conflicted best and fighting the good mommy fight like the rest of us.<br />
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<i><b>Aren't we criticizing these women for saying moms should look a certain way after giving birth, all while telling them they should look a certain way after giving birth?</b></i><br />
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I understand the pushback against the pressure to be fit, thin, sexy - or anything other than what and who you choose to be after giving birth. The choice is a personal one and no pressure need apply.<br />
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Disingenuous women who lose baby weight through starvation and surgery and then tell people it is through exercise and "eating right" <em>are </em>being fairly criticized (I am looking at you Tori Spelling and Kim Kardashian). Lying about how you treat your body - that creates unfair expectations, and that is what we in the business call EVIL.<br />
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I have had four babies from my body, and I didn't look like these women after any of my pregnancies, or before any of my pregnancies, or now - but that is not the point. The point is that I wouldn't give up any part of my body or myself for the remarkable bodies these women have - I love myself too much.<br />
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Maybe if we all focused on loving ourselves a little more, we could hate these women a little less.<br />
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Maybe if all warriors in stretch pants supported each other, the world would be a better place for all moms and children. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-53811587391500844932013-11-24T10:18:00.004-08:002013-11-24T10:18:42.689-08:00The "Facebook" Town Square<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YGPJYjqzCRg/Uo9yFBWw_xI/AAAAAAAAAks/oTnFkSbLBOM/s1600/photo+(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YGPJYjqzCRg/Uo9yFBWw_xI/AAAAAAAAAks/oTnFkSbLBOM/s320/photo+(17).JPG" width="306" /></a>There is a problem. <br />
Technology, as it so often does, has moved faster than our collective enlightened maturity. Now we have the ability to create a visual message that is widely available from our homes with a single click. So, now Facebook is serving as the old town square, where people spread the word, get up on the occasional soapbox, and - most dangerously - visually place someone in a stockade when they have wronged the owner of the Facebook account. No judge or jury needed, just the ability to coerce someone into giving up their dignity and holding up a sign stating their transgressions.<br /><br />And hey, if that fails, there is always Photoshop.<br /><br />This is a trend that has been bothering me for a while: Parents posting pictures of their kids on Facebook while they hold signs reading "I don't know how to use social media, so I must close my account", or "I think drinking is cool, and that is bad", or "I picked my nose at my dad's office."<br /><br />Not so sure about that last one. To be honest, I have kind of stopped paying attention.<br /><br />I have stopped paying attention because it disgusts me when I see parents holding up their children in humiliation for all to see. I think it feels good to kids when they get the feeling that parents are on their side, helping them through the rough waters of school, friends, and society. They are children after all, it takes some time to figure out the world and their place in it. It must feel lonely and frightening for kids when their parents exploit them to prove some kind of point. They offer images of their own children as proof that they are bad-ass parents, and they will shoot their kid’s computer and film it to "Teach them a lesson" – all for the parent to collect accolades and fame. I’m not sure what is really going on here.<br /><br />I know this generally inspires derisive hoots and hollers from those with deep and wide synaptic trails built by phrases like “kids need to be taught to obey”, "kids should know their place", “more stick, less carrot”, and “spare the rod, spoil the child”. But for just a moment I ask that we back off from our passionate and somewhat frightening calls to "Learn those kids a lesson like my Pappy done learned me!" and think about what all this public Facebook humiliation really means.<br /><br />It means we are putting minors at risk.<br /><br />Before these people reach the age of maturity, while their brains are still in "it is all about invincible me!" mode, and before they are mature enough to really know and feel comfortable in who they are, we are literally labeling them and telling them <strong>who they are</strong>. And, thanks to a world of rapidly shrinking privacy and that little phenomenon known as Facebook, we are creating an image that will <strong>last forever</strong>.<br />
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In a single click, we instantly strip away any chances for these young people to create and define themselves, or to be free from any stupid mistakes made before they were fully grown.<br /><br />Why would a parent do this to their own child? Why would a parent send a message to the world that their child’s humility and self esteem didn’t matter? When I see children holding these signs, I immediately imagine their parent standing right next to them hold a sign reading “My child doesn’t feel safe, and I’m responsible.”<br /><br />And now, it has become even more dangerous. Now businesses think it is acceptable for them to do this as well. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Infamous.Ink.Tattoos/posts/564884990257932" target="_blank">Infamous Ink</a>, a tattoo business in Waco, Texas, just decided to practice vigilante justice by posting a picture on Facebook of a 15 year-old boy who had stolen from their store, holding a sign reading "I am a thief". With this action, they circumvented the United States justice system and all the systems in place to protect minors from permanently damaging their lives when they are young and stupid.<br /><br />Are we to trust in the wisdom of the Tattoo studio's owners more than in the wisdom of a carefully written, voted upon, law that the United States crafted to uphold justice?<br /><br />I vote no. I vote no because this boy is a boy - a boy making stupid choices for sure - but a boy who may have lost his way. I vote no because I don't think he can be disgraced and shamed back to the straight and narrow. I vote no because, presumably, the tattoo studio owners are adults who should be exercising good judgment, but we clearly have no guarantee of that. I vote no because <strong>I believe in compassion</strong>, and not coercion. <br /><br />This is dangerous people. We have put the fate of a 15-year-old boy in the hands of people who own a tattoo studio, not in the hands of those sworn to have his best interests at heart.<br /><br />It is dangerous because people commenting on the picture are recognizing this boy, revealing where he went to school. Some are asking for his last name. It is dangerous because now this boy is receiving threatening texts on his personal phone. It is dangerous because in the comments below the picture people are threatening this boy, saying he deserves to be punched in the face, his fingers broken, and held down while horrible slurs are tattooed on his face. <br />
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The picture and comments about this boy advocate for the 17th century methods of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Scarlet_Letter" target="_blank">The Scarlett Letter</a>. Have we really not progressed beyond that?<br />
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Let’s use Facebook to share our lives, recipes, and cute cat pictures.<br />
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Let’s stop using it as a way to publicly, if not literally, flog children in the town square.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1065051649679879879.post-90768899962587389472013-11-19T12:46:00.001-08:002013-11-19T12:46:27.011-08:00In Bed With Penis Mom - Putting Pictures Online<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/4ROJiUhQhjM" width="459"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0