Protests are Red and Rosie's are Riveted

I doubt Rosie the Riveter would have stopped working. I doubt she would have thrown down her tools, threw on a red shirt, and marched her ass right out of the factory to stand and shout in the street.

She had a job to do. She had an army of men and an entire country that relied on her. We relied on her for one simple fact - women get shit done.

I know. This doesn't sound like me, the raging feminist. Hear me out.

On March 8, International Women's Day, women all over the world will be participating on A Day Without Women. On this day, we are to take to the streets and march, holding signs high and shouting our worth to the world. This is what we did just a few short months ago on January 21.  On March 8, we are called to "not engage in paid and unpaid work, avoid spending money, and wear red in solidarity."

Uh huh.

So... if I'm not engaging in paid or unpaid work, what the fuck am I doing? Sitting on my ass all day? Catching up on my reading? Sounds terrible...

This isn't the first Women's March. In fact, it isn't even a new thing. Women have been marching and protesting for equal treatment since the 1700s and earlier (see: Women's march on Versailles on October 5, 1789). Side Rant: Anyone else feel exhausted by that fact? Now I totally get that "I can't believe I still have to protest this shit" sign. Yeah. It's been over 200 years. Honestly.

As I was saying, women all over the world have held protests of this nature and they have been successful. Women in America marched for suffrage in 1913 and were finally granted the right to vote seven years later. Women in South Africa started a protest against discriminatory laws. The subsequent protests became deadly and violent. The laws were finally overturned in 1986. Women in Iceland took "Women's Day Off" in 1975, with 90% of the women refusing to do any work. In a related strike just last year, women in Iceland left work at 2:38pm to protest the wage gap. The number of protests in 2016 from all over the world was historic.

Given the three examples from above, you may notice a pattern: time. History shows that when women march and protest, they are heard and seen. The social injustices they are so passionate about are adorned on the front page news and garner attention. And thirty years later, the goal will be met. It takes time. It shouldn't, but it does. And it will, because it's worth it, because it's effective. So, keep marching.

Just keep marching, without me, on March 8.

Like Rosie the Riveter, I have a job to do. I have a wage to earn. I have a family that depends on me, not just for my wage, but on ME. I have children to feed, to get off to school, to teach about the world and the people in it. I have a future generation to mold. Ain't no one got time off for that.

It's kind of like when members of Congress decline to vote on crucial issues in protest or boycott important events because they simply don't agree. From an American woman that is working her ass off every day, I want to say: GET BACK TO WORK. I did not elect you to throw a temper tantrum and play the silent treatment. I elected you because I know you can make the changes.

It comes back to that whole phrase "actions speak louder than words." Guess what. That's bull crap. Action and words have power, especially when used together.

Right about now it sounds like I'm a little hostile towards my fellow ovary-carriers that are spending their time and effort on marching. I'm not, so let me backpedal here a bit and clarify: The Women's March, A Day Without Women, and International Women's Day are all necessary and important. We need women that are willing to walk off the job and out of their homes. We need women that are taking the risk to be heard and seen and fight for the next thirty years or however long it will take.

We need you. I need you. I need you because while you're out at the front lines, I'm going to be back here, using my words, working my ass off in another aspect to fight for what I believe in. I'm going to get up in the morning, take care of my babies, go to work, run a household, and save this chauvinistic world from itself one hour at a time.

Rosie the Riveter knew she was doing the work of men and getting paid half. She knew she was leaving her family behind and taking on the roles of two people. She knew that at the end of the day she still had to go home and be mom and make up for all of it. But she did it. Because she could. Because she understood what it meant for the backbone of a nation to rely on the backbones of women, and that without us, history would have been much different.

On March 8, I won't be marching. I might wear red. I will participate in paid and unpaid work. I will probably spend money. But I will still be a woman, and a feminist, and I will still believe in the cause and support it and uphold it every day. And I will still march, in my own way, to my own beat.

A Promise from a Women's March Supporter

As the Women's March gained momentum and attention yesterday, I kept reading some opinions that weren't quite hitting the mark on what was going on or why. To help with this, I'm putting on my Feminist hat and clearing up a few details.

This is not a political problem. This is a humanitarian problem. It is intertwined with politics due to the global stage that has been offered and due to the political agendas and policies that are threatening our basic human rights.

The election of President Trump is not the problem. It is a symptom of a much greater problem. Hating President Trump will not solve the problem. Impeaching him will not solve the problem. The problem is us, because WE elected him. Reasons for voting range from full blown support of everything he does and says to hating him as a person but supporting his policies to simply not wanting to vote for the other candidates. There are endless reasons for electing President Trump, just like there are endless reasons to March.

People voted for him because they weren't bothered enough by the things he said and did, the way he treated people. That is the problem. Not him. Us. We were willing to ignore hate, ignorance, and intolerance simply for a change. That is how desperate we are in American politics.

Women's March does not equal Hating Men March nor does it equal Hating Trump March. As a supporter of the Women's March and Women's Movement, I can say that I actually support President Trump. Okay, hear me out. No, I did not vote for him, but due to the way democracy is coordinated in this country (yes, coordinated like a god damned country club gala), he was elected to the Presidency and sworn in. He is now the President. I'm giving him a chance. Barring impeachment, he will be the President for at least the next 4 years. I owe him a chance. I do not want him to fail. That would be bad for all of us. Others may not feel that way. That's fine.

I can support him because I don't have any fear over the potential damage he and other members of government office could inflict. Not anymore. Not after yesterday. After President Trump was elected, I was concerned with what was going to happen to this country and what aftermath we were going to leave for our children. Not anymore. Now I know, I've seen, what we will and will not tolerate. I know that no matter what happens in the next Presidency, we will be okay. We have risen and we will continue to rise.

Again, the Women's March is not about politics. It's about humans. It's about our rights and tolerance and acceptance and love and having a voice and using it to say "There is a problem and we will fix it." We are not whining. We are talking. We are not blaming. We are taking action. We are not just women. We are men, children, families. We are not just black, we are all races and nationalities. We are not just queer, we are whatever we want to be. We are not just Americans. We are the World.

You can be a person that voted for Trump and supports his Presidency and still be a member of the Women's March. Trump was not elected only by white males. He was elected by minorities, women, and immigrants.

Not every woman has to be a supporter of the Women's March or Women's Movement. The hashtag #notmywomensmarch is trending. And guess what? That's okay! You don't want to be a part of it? Fine. Then don't. It's not required for all females to be feminists, just like it's not required that all feminists be females. Kudos for standing up for yourself and your belief and not joining a movement you didn't support simply because it was trending in the news and social media.

As a supporter and participant of the Women's March and Women's Movement, I will give you Respect. I will show you respect, regardless of who you voted for or what your political beliefs are. I will give you Tolerance. I will tolerate your thoughts, ideas, and opinions. I will give you Help. I will help you if you need it, however I can. I won't turn away just because of who you are or what you believe in.

I will not respect anger, ignorance, or the demeaning of other people. I will not tolerate actions of hate and violence towards others. I will not help propagate an agenda of hate, segregation, or ignorance. I will not look the other way if I see or hear this. However, I will not get in your face, point my finger, and yell. I will listen. I will speak with confidence. I will try to understand your point of view. And I will March my hippie Feminist ass in the other direction if you choose not to listen, or have a conversation, or practice the same respect and tolerance and that I have offered. Because I have that choice. Just like you have a choice in what you support, what you respect, and what you tolerate.

And if I walk away and you still need help, I will turn around and help. Because you are human, regardless of the quality of hate that could spew from your mouth. I will help you because you are human and THAT is what this whole damn demonstration is about. We are nasty to each other and we've had enough of it.

I will keep talking about this. I will keep sharing photos and quotes. I will keep Marching. We're not going away. Finally. We're not going away. You don't have to like it, you don't have to accept it, but know that in my world, there is not an us vs. them. There is just us, and We are all parts of the same bird.

This is not about women. It's about all of us. This is not political. It is human. This is not American. It is global. We're going to keep Rising. We're going to keep Marching. We're going to Continue. Because We Can.

Paths of Victory - We Shall Walk

The United States swore in a new President yesterday.

This is a fact. The only fact that really matters, actually.

It doesn't matter how many people attended the inauguration. It doesn't matter who performed or which celebrities attended. Last I checked, thanks to the electoral college, this wasn't a popularity contest.

I stayed away from social media yesterday for the most part. I didn't watch the inauguration. No, it wasn't in protest or because I'm still whining over who was elected. I didn't have time. Not that I needed to stop what I was doing and tune in. It was covered over and over and over and over and over from all points of views on social media. And anyway, thanks to my high school American Government class, I get the gist of what happened.

Today, however, is a different story.

Today on Facebook, for example, people are going about their daily business. Birthday wishes. Fun recipes to try. Funny cat videos. Inspirational quotes. Like nothing is happening today. Just another day.

Nope. It's not.

Today, women are marching all over this great country of ours. We are marching, wearing pink, carrying signs. Demanding to be heard, to be seen, to be real.

And yet, this important movement gets crickets.

From the few posts I have seen, there seems to be some confusion about what is actually going on. Luckily, I have a brain and can clear a few things up for those that care (p.s. we should all care).

My first disclaimer is that I am not at any actual marches. I am watching this all from home. If that discredits me, feel free to stop reading. However, last time I checked, I still had a pair of badass ovaries that grant me the title of "woman." I, too, want to be seen, heard, and be real.

My second disclaimer is that I have not read any news sources on the marches. I have seen pictures posted on Instagram from those that are there. What you are about to read is entirely my own opinion. I generally don't trust the media, even if it's about a cause I fully support, such as Women's Rights.

The first confusion people have is they don't understand why we're marching. I have seen it called an "anti-Trump protest," which, for some people, it is. Some people are carrying signs calling out Trump. Some are boldly saying they don't support him, his ideas, or the fact that he's been given so much power. See, we get to do that, because of Freedom. We don't have to like the President. We don't have to agree with him. We can say it out loud without fear of punishment or retaliation. Because this is America.

Trump is not the only reason we are marching, however. We are marching for equal pay. We are marching for protection of our bodies from lawmakers. We are marching to support each other. We are marching for minorities. We are marching for LGBTQ rights. We are marching for immigrants and refugees. We are marching for children. We are marching for longer maternity leave. We are marching for better health care options. We are marching so our daughters can see that they have a voice and their voices have power and that they are important. We are marching because we can, because we want to. We are marching to be seen, to be heard, to be real. Every woman that is marching right now has a reason to march, and a damn good reason.

The second confusion is there seems to be a gray area when it comes to marching v. protesting v. vandalism. I understand that people were smashing windows, burning things, and becoming violent. This is vandalism, and it is stupid. This is not who we are. There are not groups of women right now burning down capital hill. We're not tipping over police cruisers or burning flags. This behavior does nothing for our cause and only pushes us further back.

Some people are protesting Trump, inequalities, or policies. Other people are just marching. One step in front of the other. Some are shouting, some are singing. Most of them are laughing and smiling and having a grand old time feeling powerful among fellow females and supporters. These are the pictures and videos that are coming out of the marches. This is the evidence coming from those that are there.

This is a beautiful day. I am proud to be a woman today. One day, I will talk about this day with my daughters. I will show them pictures. I will tell them what happened and why. Hopefully, I can tell them about changes that were made because of our actions, our determination, our refusal to be quiet, to sit down.

One of the pictures I've seen multiple times today is an old woman holding a sign that says "I can't believe I still have to protest this shit." I do. And I hope we never stop. I hope we never stop seeing, thinking, hearing, speaking, or marching.

Also, to any of my followers/friends on Facebook, I'm about to saturate your timeline with photos of the marches. You're welcome.

Oh - and if you're wondering where the title to this post comes from, check here. It's a song written my Poet Laureate Bob Dylan.

"And my road it might be rough,
But the better roads are waiting
And boys it ain't far off." 

#womensmarch #strongertogether 

The Midwestern Feminist Takes on the Election

Uff Da.

Yeah. It's been a rough one, huh? I know. I can't wait for this election to be over. Except that the backlash from this historic presidential election might be worse than all the foolishness leading up to it.

I don't want to talk about the presidential election. Yes, I know who I'm voting for. Yes, I know why and I have my reasons. No, I won't tell you, possibly ever. There has been zero tolerance or acceptance in this election. People have used the election as an excuse for a socially accepted form of bullying by making others feel stupid or less of a person simply for their beliefs and opinions.

But I digress...

Anyway, in preparation for this election, I performed my ritual of becoming an informed voter this morning. I made a pot of strong hot coffee, sat down with my phone, and did a Google search for my local ballot.

{P.S. Did you know you can do this? If not, give it a try. Go to Google, type in your state name + election ballot, then type in your address. It will give you the National, State, and Local options you'll see on your ballot. Plus, it lets you do an internet search for the candidates and their issues directly from the list. Cool, right? Now go do it.}

See, I believe it is incredibly important to be an informed voter, and not just at the Presidential level. Yes, this presidential election will change the course of history for our nation. Whether that will be for better or worse is yet to be determined.

But I don't really care about the presidential election. Not anymore, for reasons stated above. What I do care about are the issues facing my state and local governments. It occurred to me, as it does every year, that I don't even know who is running, what positions we are electing for, or what measures will be on the ballot.

After an hour of research, now I know. Yep. One hour and I am now a knowledgeable voter whose voice will be heard.  It was not, however, without challenges. Here are a few thoughts I had while expanding my knowledge of this term's election ballot, particularly aimed towards candidates that are running.

1. If you're a candidate, no matter what position you are running for, get a website. A professional website. I was appalled to discover how many of the candidates running didn't have a website. To me, this means that they don't believe citizens will research them. To me, that means they think we are idiots that don't care and will simply choose them either because they are incumbent or are affiliated with a certain party. Unfortunately, this is true in some respect.

Still, get a professional website. Some of us, like me, actually want to know who you are and what you stand for.

2. On your professional website, don't ask me for money right away. No, I will not give you money. I don't know you. The worst offenders do this in pop-up form. Honestly. I'm not voting for you, regardless of your view of issues. This tells me that the only thing you want from me is my cash. Nope.

3. I want to know your stance on issues. I don't want to know about your family. I don't want to read biased news articles you've been featured in. I want to know where you stand on important issues that impact the citizens you will be representing, like me. I want to know what makes you qualified to represent me. Spoiler alert: Being well-dressed with the perfect smiling family in a professional portrait will not get my vote. I want to know what you think, what you fight for, and why you fight for it.

Is this really too much to ask for?

And on a second note, do I really have to vote in every category? If I either can't find information on either candidate or neither of them have proven to earn my vote, do I have to vote? Asking for a friend...

The point of this entire rant is that you can't rely on anyone else, especially the media, to give you information. You have to go out and get it and then form your own opinion. For example, there are five measures on the ballot for North Dakota this year. I've only heard of one of them (through propaganda so eloquently slipped into my mailbox on a weekly basis. Hey, by the way, my toddler can't vote. Stop sending her political spam.) I wouldn't have had any clue if I hadn't taken an early look at the ballot.

One of the issues that is hot in my state right now is the pipeline. Again, I'm not going to go into it. If you want to know, look it up. Anyway, turns out that some candidates that have a large say in what happens are on the ballot. This is a great example of an issue that I care about, one that I want reflected during the election, and I have the opportunity to do that through voting. Through conscious and informed voting. See, that's how this thing works. It also turns out that candidates from different positions endorse each other in an effort to build a united front for their goals. This is important because it reflects on who else I will vote for.

Issues, people. It's all about the issues. Not just party affiliation. Issues, the future of the national, state, and local governments. All things that will impact you, your family, and your community for the next two to possibly eight years. That's a long time.

At least in this election, we are seeing the weening of being a party-dominated nation. We are no longer just a two party system. Candidates from other parties such as Independent and the Green party are making waves and being heard. There are options. It used to be that these were seen as crazies and no one voted for them simply on principle. Turns out the crazies aren't so crazy anymore compared to other options.

Many voters no longer side with just one single party, either. We are no longer Democrats or Republicans. We are Voters. We Care. We hear you, we see you, we want to know more, and we're not stupid.

Maybe that's the silver lining to come out of this disastrous display of democracy. We're Learning, as a country, together, the consequences of our actions. We're using our brains, relying on our experiences and beliefs. The internet may be full of misleading and biased information, but the facts are out there. Candidates can no longer hide behind big money or public appearances. We see into their private lives as much as their political agendas, and we're using this to make our judgements. No, not always sound or political judgements, but judgements the same.

Spend some time before you cast your vote to look at your local ballot. The information is there and it's public. Know what you will be voting on. Have an informed opinion about the choices you will make. It's easy to do.

Whatever you do, please please please don't boycott voting. You are an American. People all over the world, including women and minorities in this country, have fought for the right to vote. Don't waste it. Grow a spine and form an opinion. Be heard. Stand up for those that deserve it. Do the right thing. Take an hour out of your day, do your research, and Vote. Not casting a vote will not make a difference. The electoral college doesn't count votes not made or take silence into consideration.

VOTE.

International {Naked} Women's Day

The internet was full of celebration today. Thanks to hashtags like #OneDayIWill and #PledgeforParity, the female gender has now accomplished all of the equality that has been in despair since Adam so gratefully spared that rib.

Ooh! And we get to celebrate with wine! And let's make cupcakes! Happy International Women's Day!

...

According to www.internationalwomensday.com, on Tuesday, March 8, all women, men, children, international leaders, and cyborgs are to "Celebrate the social, economic, cultural and political achievement of women. Yet let's also be aware progress has slowed in many places across the world, so urgent action is needed to accelerate gender parity. Leaders across the world are pledging to take action as champions of gender parity."

Can I just note the irony that only 2 of the 7 leaders are women? Not that you need ovaries to champion gender parity for women, but... ya' know. Oh, and parity means "the state or condition of being equal, especially regarding status or pay." Also known as bitches wanna get paid.

Adding to the glory were, of course, the celebrity posts. Like from Kim Kardashian, who posted a nude (but censored) photo. In a surprise move, the internet lost it's shit, apparently forgetting the other 8,657 nude photos of Ms. Kardashian.

I have so many questions. So many. I want to sit Ms. Kardashian down and ask her questions just to see what falls out of her mouth. Then I want to get her drunk and hear the truth.

Let's not forget that this is a woman who has built a billion dollar entertainment industry on nothing. Literally, nothing. This talent has propelled her entire family into Hollywood gold as well. Every month, there is a new story. The Kardashian family has managed to remain at the top of our internet searches and "reality" TV fodder for at least the last 10 years. Despite the inability of Kim to keep her clothes on, she is anything but stupid.

The result of being able to put herself out there (pun intended) is that she is an easy target and a delectable one at that. This means, naturally, people hate her. A lot of people. A lot of opinionated, vocal, hilarious people. This is why we are always excited when a new Kim Nudie comes out. We don't care about the picture. We want to hear what people can come up with this time.

This time did not disappoint. Bette Midler took to Twitter, made an excellent point, and the lines were drawn. Some have said that Midler and other celebrities criticized the reality diva, Ms. Kardashian herself deeming the comments as "slut shaming." In their defense, the criticism was simple and fun joking.

Like I said, so many questions...

First, I just want to point out that a nude selfie plastered all over social media may not help the women's movement. However, in the modern and accepting time that is 2016, Kim is following the trend of using her sexuality to claim her empowerment. In a statement, Kim explained, "I am empowered by my body. I am empowered by my sexuality. I am empowered by feeling comfortable in my skin. I am empowered by showing the world my flaws and not being afraid of what anyone is going to say about me. And I hope that through this platform I have been given, I can encourage the same empowerment for girls and women all over the world."

Alright. Tatas and hoochie are empowering. I get it. Really. I do. It's a good statement. Clearly, Kim is comfortable in her skin. Also, clearly, skin sells and she's made a lot of money from it. For her, that means shedding all clothing at every chance possible. She's popular, and I have no doubt that she will inspire other women to be comfortable in their skin, embrace their flaws, and not be afraid of what people say.

If that's true, you'd think she'd have a tougher skin and ignore what people say. Then again, if she did that, there would be no Twitter feuds and no one would need to search for what people said and then no one would see her naked picture and then we all might forget about her for a day.

Again, she's not stupid. 

Next year, all women around the world can use this day to follow her path by embracing their birthday suit. To hell with burning bras. Let's take off all our clothes, post our naked bodies everywhere, prance around and let the titties breath. We'll run through fields with dandelion crowns nestled in our long hair. We'll throw parties with fondue and drink wine and share beauty tips. Because on International Women's Day, we should make sure that everyone knows that we're women. Here's our God given nakedness to prove it.

Oh, yeah, and we want equality and all that shit...

And then, on International Men's Day (November 19), the men can do the same thing. I don't know about you, but I'd be more than willing to see a socked Channing Tatum. Of course, he's also not afraid to show off his body either. Or make a movie where he gyrates and strips. In the name of equality, let's make sure to sling the term "slut shaming" at all those that are offended by a disrobed Channing Tatum.

In all honesty, I don't think International Women's Day is a real thing. I don't think Kim Kardashian made it better or worse. I don't think the "haters" that made such clever observances promoted the shaming of women.


Is gender inequality a thing? Yes. Is it important for a woman to feel proud of herself, her brain, her appearance - not just physical, but the appearance she projects into the world? Yes. The websites, world leaders, hashtags and celebrity nudes won't make one fucking difference in that aspect. Posting quotes about strong women won't change the mind of the economy and start handing out promotions or wage increases. It won't stop the slut shaming and the "weaker sex" mentality.

Am I a strong woman? You bet I am. Why? Because I was raised that way. I was surrounded by strong women, raised by strong women, told that I was a strong woman. Not just by the women, but by the men. The men I grew up with respected women. I always knew that women were equal - if not superior - to men.

And that can't be captured in a picture - sans clothing or not.

I get it. Kim Kardashian needs to be naked to feel powerful. That doesn't bother me, and it shouldn't bother you. Good for her. I hope that my girls will be able to look at their naked bodies and feel comfortable. I hope they will know that their strength comes from the inside and is shown in how they think, speak, and treat others.

What is a powerful woman? What will change the world? I don't think it can be defined. I think it means a lot of different things and can be seen in a lot of different ways. I don't think one single declaration will change the world.

The world is changed every day, by every woman. Naked or not.

The Great Want

About a month ago, I decided to take a break from the world, a sabbatical. I deactivated my Facebook account, deleted my blog, took a long dive off the edge of the earth. I wasn't happy. I needed to refocus. I needed to recenter myself. I was feeling a little worthless, like the world was against me at every turn. I was sad, angry, and selfish. I simply couldn't understand why I wasn't getting what I wanted - what I deserved. I'm a good person! I do good things! Look at all the good things I've done! Where is my reward?! I threw myself an epic pity party and was righteously pissed when no one showed up. So I did what I don't normally do - I sat, pouted, waited, threw fits to get attention. Look at me! Look how terrible my life is! Someone fix it for me!

Well... no one came to fix it.

Turns out, the only person that could fix it was too busy being mad at the world. Why? Why wasn't my life going the way I wanted it to? Why was this happening to me? Why was the world so ignorant to my needs?
 
Then the epiphany came...

The world doesn't need me. It doesn't need my thoughts, my opinions, my words. It can go on without me, none the worse or better. BUT - I need the world. I need to think. I need to feel. I need to learn. It's empowering, knowing you need something that doesn't need you back. In my world of chaos, it's refreshing to not be needed. My only purpose in the world is to GIVE, not receive. It owes me nothing and in return, I don't owe it anything, either. Instead, I CHOOSE to give what I want to. I can choose to give it good or I can choose to give it bad, but that choice reflects only on me. That choice impacts the people I love and those that love me. It doesn't do a damn thing to the world as a whole.

What this led me to realize is that my world is small. Yes, in this globetrotting, international business dominated, news traveling in a flash orb, my world is small. It is small, but important, and I am important to it. I am important to my family, my friends, my community. I can be important for good reasons or bad, and I am no more important than the next person.

But even this small world doesn't need me. It WANTS me. I found this out when I took that unannounced break and red flags sprang up all over.

It doesn't NEED my cynical face, my rants, or my raised eyebrow full of suspicion. It wants my kindness, my ability to see things from another point of view, and my knack for making people think.
Sometimes, we lose our place in the world. Sometimes, we forget what our world is, what it means to us, and who lives in it.

What don't I need or want from my world? Approval. Acceptance. A "good reputation." That's too much pressure to please everyone. It doesn't change who I am or how I think. I am who I am. Take it or leave it. The change is that how you treat me won't determine how I treat you. I'll still show you kindness, help you when you need it, speak only the good things or nothing at all. I'll learn my lessons and move on.

I woke up today and for the first time in a long time, I was happy. I had a list of things in my head that I wanted to do, not what I had to do. I wasn't sad, hopeless, or full of anger. I wanted to do better and be better. I felt like I had my world back, my rose colored glasses firmly in place, the understanding that my world doesn't NEED me but it WANTS me. That I have a place firmly planted in it.

The beautiful part is that it's wanted me all along. I just had to allow myself to be wanted.

Full Term: The Witchhunt for Planned Parenthood Continues

Last summer, The Center for Medical Progress released a video - on YouTube - of "PLANNED PARENTHOOD’S TOP DOCTOR, PRAISED BY CEO, USES PARTIAL-BIRTH ABORTIONS TO SELL BABY PARTS."

I wrote about it then. You can see that little ditty here.

At that time, my thoughts were: 1) The Center for Medical Progress wasn't a trustworthy source. 2) There was no concrete evidence in the heavily edited video. 3) It was all a political stunt. 4) An investigation needed to happen.

Well... I don't mean to toot my own horn, but.... HONK FRICKEN' HONK HONK.

In September, a month after the video was released, the Republican driven U.S. House of Representatives gave into conservatives threatening to shut down the government by passing a bill that would strip the funding for Planned Parenthood for a year. The move was simultaneous with the consideration to create a special committee to investigate the allegations against Planned Parenthood. This means politicians took this video as fact and claimed Planned Parenthood guilty before having any chance of being proven innocent. Sounds pretty American to me.

For the record, I'm going to remove the facet of pro-choice or pro-life or whatever other stances there are on abortion. I'm also going to remove the political facet of it. Even with those two (major) factors removed, the act of moving to completely defund an organization based on a YouTube video, without any sort of investigation at all, doesn't make sense. Hang first, ask questions later. And yet, it gained overwhelming political and social support.

This move was explained by a Republican Representative from Tennessee as common sense since apparently Americans have stated for a long time that they don't want abortion funded by federal dollars. I'm just gonna leave that little tidbit right there to simmer for a minute...

Side Note: One of the bills passed would have taken any of the funding Planned Parenthood received and redirected it to clinics that don't offer abortions. That's a pretty clear statement on choosing a side. {Also, dear government, unless you're going to find a way to make me not bleed and turn into a rabid werewolf with a murderous need for chocolate each month, get out of my uterus.}

It seemed like a slam dunk for Republicans. They (dare I say it?) staged a witch hunt and were ready to execute. Then comes President Obama, who decided to go against popular opinion and stick up for the justice system by vowing to veto any such bill that crossed his desk.

The bills hit the wayside as the Republicans decided to focus on different political issues. As promised, a committee was created by House Speaker John Boehner (R-OH), consisting of eight members, all Republicans. The process of the investigation can be read on the GOP's government website, here. It's pretty interesting, albeit boring. I particularly liked one of the entries for September 9 where "The House Judiciary Committee held a hearing entitled, “Planned Parenthood Exposed: Examining the Horrific Abortion Practices at the Nation’s Largest Abortion Provider.”" Whew. Good. Here I was all worried that they wouldn't be practical and open minded and actually investigate if there was any wrong doing and instead just continue manipulating their power to get the outcome they want for political and financial reasons. Glad the justice system dodged that bullet...

Seriously.

More ammo was needed, however, as during this "investigation," the media had somewhat forgotten about the atrocity that is Planned Parenthood. I mean, after all, Kimye had another baby and the Democrats were on the up and up in the debates and campaign. Hilary Clinton and Bernie Sanders are political media gold, spreading warm thoughts and feelings like hippie fairy dust across the nation.

The Republicans got their wish when, on November 27, Robert Dear walked into a Planned Parenthood facility in Colorado Springs and opened fire. Three people were killed, including a police officer, and nine others injured. His reasons? Religion and to protect the babies. Too bad he's currently undergoing mental competency evaluations. That could have been one hell of a political endorsement speech.

Before Dear was even seen in court, Senate Republicans were again voting to defund Planned Parenthood based on the tragedy in Colorado. Because it's human nature to turn every negative into a positive. 

Which begs the question of how human they are and at what point they had to sell their souls.

But I digress.

Eleven states also held their own investigations, including Texas. In a small victory this week, a grand jury in Texas cleared Planned Parenthood of any wrong doing. Instead, they accused The Center for Medical Progress of tampering with government records. The founder, David Daleiden, was also charged with buying human organs. Apparently, he's been posing as BioMax for years and trying to buy baby parts from Planned Parenthood, which the organization has previously called disturbing and never responded to.

He defends his actions as using the same undercover techniques used by journalists for years. Which is weird because no where does it mention that he used to work for Fox News. Or CNN.

Out of the eleven states holding investigations, nine have determined that Planned Parenthood is innocent. Two other states are still investigating.

Nine states have independently found that Planned Parenthood has done none of which they are being accused. Meanwhile, the government committee that is supposed to uphold justice for the better of the American people is trying to take away their funding while holding seminars about exposing the horrific abortion practices.

Just to review: 1) The Center for Medical Progress isn't a trustworthy source, as documented in a court of law by their investigative practices and the fact that they have been charged with the very illegal activity that they targeted Planned Parenthood for. 2) There is no concrete evidence in the heavily edited video, confirmed by preliminary investigations into the practices of Planned Parenthood on both the federal and state levels. 3) It is all a political stunt. Because really, using a shooting by a religious maniac to tout your political stance on abortion is repulsive. However, good luck in the next term since you'll probably be voted into office again.

The other good news in all of this? People are standing up for Planned Parenthood. People are voicing their opinions, with words and positive actions. We're making our voices heard. We're using our brains and listening to the facts. We're asking questions and making sure things are done right. Does this mean that Planned Parenthood is completely innocent? Maybe not. There are still ongoing investigations. In reality, this issue will most likely never be solved because the root cause - abortion - isn't a factual topic, but a moral and spiritual one. You can't fight a person on their moral and spiritual beliefs. There is no right or wrong answer with that one.

It is easier, however, when political corruption and financial kickbacks aren't involved.

Oh good, I did say that out loud.

Loch Ness Mommy

I visited the doctor yesterday. Not just any doctor. A specialist. A gastroenterologist.

A little background: colon and rectal cancers run in my family. Well, all cancers fun in my family, but that one has the highest prevalence. {I was going to make a joke about a death count and relate it to George R.R. Martin, but realized that not all will appreciate my dark humor as a coping method. You're either welcome or I'm sorry.}

Anyway, it strikes young in my family, and I have three beautiful babies to think about. I take my digestive health seriously.

Not serious enough. Apparently, I don't take any part of my health serious enough. While I knew that it most likely wasn't anything serious to be worried about, I still wanted to check it out. Turns out I simply don't take care of myself.

Huh. A stay-at-home mother to three littles who doesn't eat enough, doesn't drink enough fluids, doesn't sleep enough and has too much stress in her life. Who woulda thunk....

Here's the deal: I'm not important. That has been my mantra all my life. My children, husband, family, and friends all come before me. I'm okay with that. I carve out time for myself when needed. I do little things for myself when I feel like it. This has always been enough for me.

My tummy, however, disagrees. Loudly. Uncomfortably. In a life-impacting way.

I'm tired, all the time. I don't want to eat because it means I have to 1) stop what I'm doing, 2) hide and scarf it down in record time before my absence is noticed, or 3) share my food and therefore only eat about half. I don't drink anything besides cold coffee. No, not iced. Cold. As in, it's been sitting in a cup next to the coffee maker for the last 30 minutes, just waiting. I could microwave it. Again. But I don't have an entire minute to stand and wait for coffee, so I drink it cold. Yum.

I'm running all day long, whether I leave the house or not. I'm constantly cleaning, doing, catering.

I know, this is of no surprise to anyone. This is the life, the one I chose. No complaining, honestly. Like I said, I always find little pockets of time for myself and little ways to treat myself. I don't need much.

I didn't, anyway. Now, on doctor's orders, I need to start taking care of myself. Focusing on myself.

Not sure if I know how to do that.

I woke up with a mantra in my head this morning: I AM IMPORTANT.

I've always known this, not always felt it. It's easy to get caught up in the daily service of others. I know I'm important in the aspect that if I don't do something, it might not get done. The well oiled machine I have created might have a little setback. No, it won't break down and life will go on just fine. At least, I think so, but why take the chance?

The problem is that I've built all this pressure on myself. Others didn't do that to me. I did. I became crazy with my own power and began believing that if I faltered for even one second, the world would crash.

I'm not the only with this delusion, right? RIGHT?!?!

Phew. Breath. I AM IMPORTANT. Important enough to ME. Not just to others.

This might be the hardest thing I've ever done.

I already feel selfish for buying special cereal that the kids can't eat and then using the milk they love so much to eat said cereal.

Because I'm a mom and we feel guilty about shit like that...

I'll start, one day at a time. I'll eat when I get hungry. I'll drink more water and milk. I'll take some time for myself every day. Isn't this what a person is supposed to do, anyway? Have I ever done this? Did I just stop or is it like the Loch Ness Monster where everyone knows about it but no one has actually seen it? Do I just say that I do these things but they never really happen?

Probably.

Definitely.

Ugh. I hate change.

But I hate gas and constipation more. {TMI? Sorry, I'm a mom. I think it's normal to talk about poop.}

I am important.

Whether I fully believe that or on what level it's accepted is debatable. However, I will eat more. I will drink more fluids. At least for today.

We'll see about tomorrow.

The Messy Slate

The New Year.

That magical time where everything changes. Hopes, promises, drive, and determination are renewed. The champagne overflows as we learn from the bad, celebrate the good, and make lists on how to reinvent ourselves.

It's a clean slate. A new book just waiting to be written.

And it's all bullshit.

BULLSHIT.

What if I don't want a clean slate? What's wrong with an old, used, unclean slate? What if I want my slate to remain like my house, my hair, and my life in general - messy?

What if I don't want a shiny new book? What if I want to keep the same old, boring, scribbled and scratched story? What if I have a lot more to add to the story I'm already working on?

What if I don't want to make resolutions or plans or lists for how to improve my life? What if I want to keep the same old goals that I've already been working towards? What if I (gasp!) actually like myself and all my faults and all my okay characteristics?

What if my life - and me - don't really need improving?

And DON'T say that's a resolution. That's a cop-out.

I think that 2016 will happen how it will, regardless of plans or resolutions. I think that things will happen that will be out of my control and I'll just have to deal with it. I think life will happen, just as it did last year and the year before that, regardless of what I have written on some list somewhere. I think intentions are great, but actions hold more weight, and success is a variable that constantly changes.

I don't think a certain day will change any of this, and I don't need a special holiday to help me evaluate my life. It doesn't matter to me that there is a last day of the year or a first day of a year because focusing on the first and the last draws attention away from the middle, which is just as important.

Because every day is important.

Every day is a new day, and waiting for a certain time of year to make plans and think about life and the future and what you've learned is a waste of time. The person you are on January 1st might be a completely different person on March 25th or July 30th or December 2nd. Or you might be the same. There's no way of knowing. A year is a long time. I don't even know what tomorrow will be like so why the hell do I think I can plan for the next 365 tomorrows?

I can't. So I won't. Instead, I'm just going to live them. I'm going to wake up every day and do my thing. Maybe tomorrow will be the worst day of my life. Maybe the best. Maybe it will be just another day filled with amazing moments. I don't know.

I'm just going to be thankful that I'll get to find out.

I'm going to take each day as it comes. I'm going to watch the sunrises and sunsets and not count them. I'm going to get lost in the seasons without worrying about the next one. I'm going to enjoy what I have, work for what I want, and be happy about it.

I'm going to do the same thing I've been doing. Today, tomorrow, yesterday and next year.

I'm going to keep my messy slate and make it messier. 

The Yo-Yo, the iPad, and the Judgement

I just heard the kid that got an iPad for Christmas ask my son what a yo-yo was.

He's five.

Now, if you think this is going to be a rant on appropriate gifts for youth or how we are excelling the degradation of the next generation with mind-numbing electronics, it's not. Sorry. Guess you can't please everyone.

If I've learned anything in 2015, it's the power of tolerance and keeping an open mind. What pain or turmoil does it cause me that some five year old got an iPad? How in any way does that impact my life? It doesn't.

Instead, I'm going to focus on the fact that he didn't know what a yo-yo was. No, it's still not going to be a rant. Looks like I'm zero for two today. Instead, this will be an observation. A detailed observation filled with acceptance and different points of view and all around good feelings of them. I know, it must be this crappy Christmas cheer people are raving about that is finally getting to me.

I'll backtrack. Two kids came over to play with my kids. The didn't know how to play checkers or what a yo-yo was. Is this weird? No. Not really. I just learned how to play checkers the other day, at 31 years old. And a yo-yo has never been able to hold my attention or patience for very long.

My son, on the other hand, completely devours activities that require intense thought and concentration. It's the only time he sits still and I can see his little brain working and it mesmerizes me. He's a brilliant little boy and I'll do everything in my power to foster this and help it grow and make it something he feels confident about.

So these kids come over and upon learning that they don't know what a yo-yo is or how to play checkers, he proceeds to teach them. Without missing a beat, he teaches the girl how to play checkers and shows the boy how to use the yo-yo. Upon hearing that the boy received an iPad for Christmas, my son simply said that was cool and showed him the mega Lego set he got. Then my son showed them all the puzzles they got. Then they went and played with something else.

He didn't falter. He didn't judge. He shared. He played. Life was simple and grand and full of toys and fun and the excitement that is childhood after Christmas.

Oh, the lessons we could learn from our youth.

The kinds of possessions they had didn't divide them. It didn't separate them. They did this miraculous thing called talking and sharing and playing and not a single judgement crossed their minds.

I'm not going to lie, some judgements crossed my mind.

Who gets their five year old an iPad? Those are expensive. They must have money. And for the same kid to not know what a yo-yo is? What kind of a childhood is that? Does all of his brain power depend on an electronic?

Luckily, I realized what a twat I was being and stopped myself. He probably got an iPad for the same reason my son got a Lego set: because it's something he would enjoy and play with and would help him learn. Also, for the record, my son got an XBox. A used, $80 XBox with used $5 games. But he doesn't know that. He doesn't care about that. He wanted one, and he got one, and he's happy and grateful to have one. He didn't expect it. He didn't demand it. And he holds it just as important as the checkers game or yo-yo.

How do I know it's not the same for his friend? I don't. I assumed. And I made an ass of myself. Even if it was for one split second and the thoughts were only in my head, it was an ass move. And I'm sorry.

I'm not sure if my son knows what an iPad is. I'm not sure he cares. I know that I don't want him to be dependent on electronics for entertainment. This is why we got him a checkers game, because I knew he'd love to play the game and it would be a great family bonding opportunity. That's why he got Legos and book and puzzles. And an XBox, because we're not total hippie dippie tools. Well, at least my husband isn't. I'm getting there...

And just because his friend got an iPad doesn't mean that his parents don't value those same things. It doesn't mean that this kid is going to be any better or worse than my children. It only means what I attach to it. The simplest aspect is that he got an iPad. Anything beyond that is speculation on my part. Clearly, from watching them all interact together, I'm the one that is in the wrong.

These kids taught me something today. They didn't sit me down and have a chat. They just did and I watched and I learned. That must be what it's like for them. They watch us and learn then apply it. It's kind of a terrifying thought.

It sounds like I need to do some more watching and some more learning. Maybe in my teaching, I need to pay more attention to what I do and say since they are hearing it and learning it. Maybe instead of focusing on the little annoyances that my son still needs to learn, I should focus on the fact that he's got some pretty important aspects of life figured out.

Maybe I've had my Grinch colored glasses on for the last few months and I need to put my rose colored glasses back on. After all, it is a new year in just a few short days, and there is nothing more exciting than the possibilities that a new year holds. All the adventures have yet to be had. That is something  - at least one thing - to be happy about.

Happy New Year.

From Deserver to Grateful Earner

As a writer, sometimes people ask what my favorite word is. I have one, but I won't tell you, at least not until I change all my important passwords...

I also have words that I don't enjoy. The word panties bothers me. Yes, even in the heat of the moment, I'd prefer knickers. The word conscious, simply because I can never remember how to spell it and I get it confused with conscience. And of course, any over-used cliche meant to describe the male genitalia. Please, don't call it his "member." It doesn't wear a special jacket or belong to a bowling team. You can be more creative than that.

One of the words that makes me cringe the most: Deserve.

Deserve
Verb
1)  to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to (reward, assistance, punishment, etc.) because of actions, qualities, or situation



It's not the word itself that bothers me, but rather, how people use it. We tend to think that because of our qualities or situations, we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.

That might be one of my favorite words: Earn.

Earn
Verb

1) to gain or get in return for one's labor or service: to earn one's living.

2) to merit as compensation, as for service; deserve: to receive more than one has earned.

3) to acquire through merit: to earn a reputation for honesty.

4) to gain as due return or profit: Savings accounts earn interest.

5) to bring about or cause deservedly:


It's easy to understand why these two words are seen as interchangeable. Their definitions mirror each other and use the same wording. In the American Dream culture that we've created, we believe we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.

For example:
I earned the ability to go to college through hard work; getting good grades, writing a killer essay, and saving money to pay the tuition.
I deserve to go to college. I have the grades, I wrote my essay, and if my parents can't pay for it, there are student loans available.

I earned my position and promotion. I listened to my mentors and their feedback. I care about what I am doing and who is impacted. I've already proven that I am the right person for the position.
I deserve that promotion. I've put my time in and done everything that is asked. I need this promotion and the pay increase it comes with. Once I get the promotion, I'll prove that I am right for it.

I'm not going to lie, I used to be a Deserver. I was that person in both of the examples above. Raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized by the American Dream. Now put that damn thing down and use it to get to work. You're missing the point.

And before we go too far, I want to specify that it is not just millennials (like myself) that have this attitude. We were taught this and we followed it because we saw that it worked. Like any successful disease, it's easily contagious. And no, again, I'm not blaming the past generation or this generation's fuck-up. We did it, continue to do it and we need to own that. Not all of us, maybe not even the majority of us. I don't think the next generation is doomed, either. In fact, I think they caught on and learned from our mistakes.

Honest hard work has gone the way of the virtue. We've slowly began replacing deserve with right, an incredibly terrifying movement that has already begun to divide us. I won't go into that difference, though. That's complicated and painful and full of politics and (for once) I'm not nearly cynical enough.

So now that we've found ourselves in this rut of earning and deserving, what do we do? How do we fix it? Do we want to fix it?

The key is being grateful. I don't think I deserve this house I live in. I certainly haven't earned it. That leaves me grateful that I get to call it home. I'm grateful that my children have a safe and warm place to play and grow and dream. I'm grateful that I live in a place that is a community of neighbors and friends that help each other and care for each other.

It isn't earned or deserved or a basic human right. It just is, and that means it's my responsibility to be grateful and to pass that along in any way that I can. There are, in fact, very few things in life that I deserve. A short list at the top of my head reveals nothing. There also aren't a whole heck of a lot of things in life that I've earned, maybe aside from my stretch marks. I earned every single one of those suckers and I'm proud of them. This makes me an incredibly grateful person and one willing to work much harder to earn the things that I want and need.

There isn't a set list of things that are deserved. It depends on the person and the circumstances. Trying to establish what aspects of life are deserving for everyone leads to politics and rights, two words I have absolutely no faith in. It's internal. If you want something, you can choose to earn it. If you deserve something, you can choose to pursue it. If you find yourself in a position where you neither earned it nor deserve it, then you can choose to be grateful. It's up to you, no one else. It's your life and your choices. You get to live from them and learn from them.

Likewise, we don't get to decide what someone else deserves or has earned. This is called being judgmental. Stop it. I mean it. If you're already thinking about how you can apply this logic to things like homelessness or welfare, then I'm talking to you. Stop it. If you don't like the way things work, change it. Until then, shush.

Next time you're thinking about what you deserve, try replacing it with earn. For example: "I've had a tough day. I deserve some Starbucks." Instead, try "I've earned some Starbucks." Okay, as a coffee-fueled mother of three, that is actually the same thing. Bad example.

Replacing deserve with earned brings the power back to us. We've grown into a culture that continually throws up their hands in an "oh well" kind of gesture. There are things that just happen, and then there are things we make happen. We've discovered that it's far easier to just let things happen than to make them happen and become complacent with this. The problem is that we're expecting the same results from both scenarios.

Do you want something in life? How do you earn it?
Do you have something already? Do you deserve it?
Are you grateful?

Earn first, Deserve second, Grateful always.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've earned some much deserved coffee that I am grateful for.

{See what I did there...}

Two Sizes Too Small

**Disclaimer: If you actually have some holiday spirit, you can skip this little rant. However, if you're looking for a laugh at my expense, then go ahead and keep reading. And no, you won't change my mind.**

If it weren't for the kids, I wouldn't even have a tree.

Honestly. Although I do love the smell of fresh cut pine. But still. You have to actually go buy it. So which one to you get? Long needles or short? Pro Tip: Doesn't matter. Both hurt when stabbed into your skin. Neither cleans up easily. Both will be found in the carpet for months to come, randomly stabbing into the tender arch of your foot, reminding you that even in February, next Christmas is only 10 months away. So you pick one. Just pick it, already, dammit. Pay for it, load it in the truck, unload it, shove it through the door, slice it open and let it thaw. And when it does, there's a big old bald spot that no amount of pretty lights or ornaments will hide, so you try your best to shove that one back in the corner.

And you have to get it in the stand. It's a two person job that requires exceptional communication skills. A good rule of thumb is to first establish who's left you'll be using so when your partner asks you to tilt it to the left, you don't actually plant that spiky sucker right in his face. Or maybe you do, just to add a little fun to this adventure. I won't tell.

After being poked and prodded and covered in pitch like some sort of medieval shaming ritual, now you have to decorate it. I don't know why. It's a perfectly good tree. Fine. Throw some lights on there. And I literally mean throw since you were so excited about Christmas being over last year that you didn't take the time to carefully wrap the lights and left your less-than-excited self a little mass of wire and lights that could hold the secrets to the universe if you were just willing to take a little patience and time. Nope. Not this year.

Now that it's standing and centered, you get to debate about the correct way to put the lights on the tree. Completely around and working your way up? Or completely around and working your way down? Or just on the front part that people will see, leaving the backside dark. Of course, you tried that last year and forgot that you put the tree up next to a mirror. Nice one, genius. Or, do you go completely against the grain and do lines going from top to bottom? Gah!

Anyway, the lights are on and you plug them in and - whoa - wait a minute - did they blink last year? Haven't we had these lights for like, the last 5 years? Did they always blink? Wait, let's watch and see if it's a pattern. Maybe there's a short, or maybe it's the socket. Oh, and only one strand blinks, which we can't have. First, we'll try to even out the blinking lights, but that never really works. Off they go. We won't use them anywhere else since we only have one strand. But, just to be safe, let's throw them back in the tote so we can go through this next year. Yeah, that's a grand idea.

Okay, lights are on. Although, we like white lights, so there's a strand of those. And the husband likes blue lights (really? Blue?), so there's a strand of those. And we need colored ones for the kids because kids. Whatever. No theme is a theme, right?

Time for tinsel. Which is ridiculous. As a mother of three, there are three things in this world that I despise: tinsel, fake grass for Easter baskets, and packing peanuts. That shit gets everywhere and always - ALWAYS - ends up getting eaten. Trust us. But I put it up anyway and send a silent apology to my very trusty and hardworking vacuum. It's not a good time of year for that thing.

Then the ornaments. The fragile, glass, sentiment-filled ornaments from your childhood. That the kids are now literally tossing everywhere, except onto the tree. Wait, this one is special, I want it to go here, but the branch is puny, so I'll put it here, only to watch it slip off the branch and crash to the floor. Don't worry. The pillow of pine needles already on the floor broke it's fall. Maybe we'll just put that one back in the box. Maybe we can just put all of them back in the box. Motion denied. Hand me another ornament.

Alright. All the ornaments are hung and the tree is full. We put the star on the top, remembering that we were going to buy a new star last year, but refuse to take the conversation any further again this year. Because we really don't care about the star on top of the tree. We stand back, as a family, oohing and aahing over how beautiful it is. And for one simple moment, we have a moment of peace. Maybe even, dare I saw, some Christmas spirit.

Then the baby reaches out and tries to eat an ornament and by the end of the night, every single ornament has been moved to the top half of the tree and the poor thing is threatening to topple over from the unequal weight distribution. Not that moving them helped, because they oldest is smart enough to grab a chair when Mom is busy making supper, and he's chosen this moment to put aside his distaste for his sisters and has taught them how to be accomplices.

Given their lack of restraint to constantly "fix" the tree, I'm not about to put wrapped boxes under the tree and leave them unattended for weeks. I've ordered them. Yes, I know I should shop local and support small business, but these places have things called "people" and despite the "holiday spirit," the only spirit I really want during Christmas shopping comes in liquid form and out of a bottle. They are hidden in the basement. The present, but the booze too. I'm not about to go dry right now. I've even wrapped them before the kids had a chance to find them. Again, the presents. Hopefully not the booze. Maybe I should go check...

When I say wrapped, I mean covered in some form. Loosely covered in some form. I did buy actual Christmas wrapping paper this year, although I was hoping the brightly colored floral Happy Birthday paper from last year would start a new trend. And gift bags. Lots and lots of gift bags. But no tissue paper. I forgot that. Just think of the newspaper stuffed in with your present as a little bonus reading material.

I won't be putting out any extra decorations. You can take your garland and keep it. In fact, when you drive by my house, you'll probably see a frozen rotten pumpkin instead of a wreath. If I'm feeling festive, maybe I'll paint it red and green. But I won't. So orange - and slightly gray - it is.

I won't listen to Christmas carols, unless you count Lady Gaga's Christmas Tree a carol.

You won't be seeing a Christmas card from us.

I'll have to be reminded to say Merry Christmas.

And on January 2, that tree is toast. And all that hard work we did by watering it every day to keep it alive will pay off, since we'll shove it out the door again into the frigid cold and it will survive and stay green for the next three months. But thanks for making me army crawl my cookie-stuffed ass under it every day. I'm counting that as yoga. Now pass me another cookie.

Yes, I'm a Scrooge. A bah-humbug loving Grinch. I won't try steal your Christmas spirit, and if this is your favorite time of year, by all means. Have at it. I won't judge.

I wasn't always this way, and I hope I won't stay this way. But for now, this year, I'm just not feeling it. I'll do my part. I'll give my kids awesome memories (sleeping under the tree is still a thing).  I'll watch the movies. I'll get excited about Santa and reindeer and Frosty and hot cocoa and all that junk. I'll remind my kids what this season is about and being grateful and how important celebrating is. I'll keep all my negative Grinch ways to myself for their sake.

But this year? The year where everything offended everybody? Where we are treating others so poorly on silly things like nationality and religion and sexual preference and race? Where we continually kill and harm each other just to prove a point? Where money, no matter what kind of corrupt ass hat it comes from (ahem Mr. Trump), still has power to change opinion?

How do I teach my kids about the spirit of Christmas with all that crap in the world?

I'll smile and laugh when we decorate the tree. Even with the lights and tinsel, I'll smile. We'll watch the movies together and drink hot cocoa and eat cookies and I'll even listen to Christmas carols with them. I'll make sure they have amazing memories from Christmas and that my two sizes too small Grinch heart won't be a part of it.

Because I want them to have hope, a hope I might have lost. The world is out there, and I can still protect them from it, at least in most ways.

And maybe, if I'm lucky, they'll bring the hope back to me.

No One's Business but Ours

I wasn't going to touch this one with a ten-foot pole. Honestly, I was very content just sitting back and watching the three ring circus of outrage that started. I had my opinions, of course, but I was fine with being a spectator.

I am talking about the confrontation that happened at Spring Valley High School in South Carolina. You know the one. A cop beat down on a kid. If you don't know what I'm talking about - forget I said anything. Turn off your phone or computer and continue on with your happy life. Get away while you still can.

Anyone that knows me knows there is a time limit to something like me holding in my own opinion. That time limit expired when I saw this:

Now, before going off on a tizzy (that's a little Northern Minnesota slang for keep your panties on...), let's just take a moment and attempt to start from the beginning.

I'm a little late picking up this story, and I try to get all my information from reputable news sources, even though these words together have now formed an oxymoron (p.s. - sorry CNN and Fox News, you're not included in this list). I also try to find the original source and follow the story from the beginning so I can form my own opinion. That wasn't really possible in this case since the media jumped on this like a stripper to the pole whose rent is due tomorrow. Within three short days, this story exploded into the true media spectacle we've come to know and loathe.

My initial reaction when seeing the video was what the fuck. Seriously. What the actual fuck. Even without knowing any context surrounding the situation, I believe the actions by the officer were extreme. Unless she was physically assaulting him (which can't be seen in the video but some sources claim the girl hit the officer first) and the officer feared for his life, I don't believe this kind of force is acceptable.

So why did it happen? What events led up to this and what choices were made? The video itself doesn't show anything leading up to the confrontation, so only those in the classroom know what really happened and those stories are conflicting one another.

On a side rant, I would like to stress that this happened in a classroom. This is an educational setting, where children are supposed to be taught not only academics, but how to become responsible adults that contribute to society in positive ways. And no, this isn't the sole responsibility of the school as parents should be the main influences, but when the child spends a majority of their time during the week at school, there is a responsibility of said school to do right by their students. School should be a safe haven and it's not anymore. I was 15 when Columbine happened and I realized that the terrors of the outside world could reach me. We're so concerned with gun control and mass shootings and protecting our kids, but this video shows that we allow violence into our schools in other ways. Side rant over, for now...

So what happened? According to sources, the girl was asked to put away her cell phone in class. It's unclear whether she refused to do this or if she just didn't do it in a timely manner, but she was subsequently asked to leave the classroom. When the teacher couldn't get the student to comply, the vice principle was asked to assist. The girl still refused to leave the classroom because she deemed the punishment as unfair. This was when the officer entered the picture and things got even more out of control.

Ugh, where to start. From the very beginning, this is just a jumbled mess of bad choices and decisions from all parties involved. Let's start with the obvious but the most overlooked participant in this conflict, the teacher.

The Teacher: My first question is, if this all started with a stupid cell phone, why couldn't the teacher handle it? Isn't that part of their job? To discipline students and be able to command a classroom? They're kids. You're an adult. What is the problem? Also, it's a cell phone. I know it was probably disruptive, but for who? The students or the teacher? If she refused to put it away, there are other ways to handle it. Let the entire class know that any time a cell phone is seen or heard within the class room, there is an automatic pop quiz worth 10% of the grade. These kids are old enough to make their own choices and face the consequences. If they choose to play on their cell phones instead of pay attention, the consequence will be that they don't pass the class. The teacher could have talked to the student after class, without the pressure from her peers surrounding her, and given her an extra assignment. The next day, let the rest of the students know that anyone seen with a cell phone will be given the same assignment. Put a basket up at the front of the room for students to turn in their cell phones during class. Think, teacher, think! You own that one little square room in the this world and have the power to influence people every day. Don't waste that!

With all of this, how did the vice principle become involved? Did the teacher not have enough backbone to enforce the rules of the classroom? Or did they just not want to deal with it and needed a different adult to do her job? This teacher is being suspiciously quiet. The issue started between her and the student and I don't believe the teacher handled it well, at least from the way the story is being told.

The Vice Principal: I don't ever remember the vice principle of my high school coming into a classroom to discipline a student. I remember students going into his office. Hell, I even found myself in his office a few times (worth it, every time). I would see him in the hallway and the cafeteria, keeping a watchful eye, but never once in a classroom in this regard.

Not only was the vice principal called in for backup, but he also wasn't able to control the student. Let's just take a moment to let that sink in. The vice principal couldn't control a student enough to get her to leave the classroom like her teacher requested. Instead, he had to call in more backup in the form of a cop.

The Cop: I don't know what words were exchanged between the girl and the cop. Again, the video doesn't show any of that. What I do know is that, following in the tradition of the teacher and vice principal, the cop didn't handle the situation correct, either.

If she wouldn't listen and the teacher or the vice principal or the officer, how were they supposed to get her out of the room? Probably not by dragging her forcefully from her desk. The cop looks pretty big. I like to think that my 5'3" and 120 pound frame can handle itself pretty well, but put me up against a tall, muscular and trained person and I will lose. Not without a fight, but I will lose. Judging by the way he was able to lift the desk with her when he tried to yank her out of it, I bet he could have easily picked up the desk with her in it and carried it out into the hallway. I'm not saying that's the right action, but it is clearly a better alternative to what happened.

Do I think he assaulted her? Yes. Do I think it was uncalled for? Yes. Do I think she deserved it? No.

The Student: The girl, whose name is Shakara, is 18. By law, she can vote, buy cigarettes and join the armed forces. But she is a child. Her actions, lack of respect for all of the adults involved, her fellow students, as well as her actions after the fact, have deemed her a child in my mind. She had the power, just as much as the teacher, to stop this incident before it escalated.

First, she shouldn't have had her cell phone in the classroom. Keep it in the locker. I might be from a different generation, but I never had my cell phone on me in class. I did have a notebook, textbooks and pens so I could learn. That's why I was there. {Side Note: I was also a bit of a nerd. I own that now. Nerds rule.}

Second, she should have listened to the teacher. All she had to do was listen. Listen. Such a lost art. Open your ears. Keep your mouth shut. Open your mind. Listen.

She decided against this obvious action because she thought the punishment was unfair. Guess what? She doesn't get to decide that. If she believed that she wasn't doing anything wrong, then she takes it up with the vice principal and other school authorities in a respectful manner. Demanding respect with your arms crossed over your chest and pouting will not get others to listen to you. I've tried it. It backfires. Every time.

Again, I don't think she deserved the ultimate outcome of being forcefully dragged out of the classroom. However, she had multiple opportunities to change the course of events and ignored them. In this situation, I find her to be just as guilty as the teacher and vice principal.

This is a teachable moment. Clearly, this girl needed some guidance. Just because she's 18 doesn't mean she's free from being taught how to act like a decent human being. That's a lesson that can always be taught, as long as others are willing to teach it (I'm pointing my big fact accusing finger at you, teacher and vice principal and officer).

The cop was fired and got a lawyer. The student got a lawyer. The school district got a lawyer. Every one got lawyers and began screaming at each other from behind them, flinging accusations and playing the blame game. No one is taking any responsibility or sitting down and having a fucking conversation.

The student is facing misdemeanor charges for "disturbing schools" that comes with a $1000 fine and up to 90 days in jail. Yes. A student could go to jail for disturbing school. Honest to Jesus. Again, what the actual fuck. Not only did the teacher fail, the vice principal fail, the officer epically failed, but now the justice and court systems are also failing. What are we teaching this child? That she did wrong and here's why and these are the consequences so don't do it again? Nope. We're teaching her - and her peers - not to trust authority. We're teaching them that if they piss off the wrong person, even in school, they'll end up in jail. We're telling them they aren't worthy of our time, our respect, our involvement. If they aren't good enough, we toss them away and lock them up and label them a criminal.

What thoroughly aggravates me about this entire situation, even more than the worthless actions of all the adults involved and the complete lack of responsibility, is that no one did anything while it was happening. In watching the video, the teacher, the vice principal, and all the students just sit and watch as this child is pulled from her desk and dragged out of the room. The adults didn't step in and do anything. The Superintendent quoted "Student safety is and always will be the district’s top priority [...] The district will not tolerate any actions that jeopardize the safety of our students.” Yet here were two adults employed by the district, standing by and watching as a student was assaulted and did nothing. That doesn't sound like top priority to me and I would not be trusting this school district with the safety of my babies.

The students also did nothing. This, I can understand to an extent. If you look at them, most aren't even looking at the confrontation. They have their heads turned. Even the student sitting behind the girl, whose desk was moved when it knocked into his, doesn't watch what happens. My instinct tells me that this is out of fear. Either that, or they are used to this kind of spectacle in school and it simply isn't worth their attention anymore. Both scenarios are frightening.

No one did a thing. I don't care what the circumstances are. If you see someone being treated in a way they shouldn't be, whether it's by a person of authority or not, you step in and say something. You help. End of story. No one did that. That is what pisses me off the most about this entire situation.

This thirty second video details every way we are failing our youth as a nation. Again, the girl is not innocent. She is just as guilty as the rest of us. Yes, she's a kid, but she's been taught to behave this way. She's learned this either from home or school or the media or somewhere or everywhere. The actions of everyone else involved, including the justice system and the media, has only confirmed the bad behaviors that she has been taught.

We are losing, folks. We are losing and this is why. We've lost our damned minds.

Normally, this is the part of the post that would have the call to action. We can fix this! Let's do something! Not this time. I'm just one person, spouting off an opinion. To fix this, we need more than one, but that's not going to happen when everyone is the enemy. Anger is the only emotion we're really capable of listening to now and if this incident tells us anything, it's that our anger is justified, which it isn't.

Alright. I'm done. So. Done. I'm going to crawl back into my happy little Midwestern life, slip on my rose colored hippie goggles and read a good book.

Oh, and take out that ten-foot pole again...

Santa and the Second Mortgage

Ah, Christmas. It's only two months away people. Can you feel the anxiety starting? Have you started saving? Already scoping out Christmas gifts and worrying if you'll have to take out a second mortgage?

I mean, are you super excited to be spending time with family and friends and celebrating the joys of the season?

There is a viral Facebook post that has been circulation for a few years now. regarding modesty with Christmas gifts. I saw it again the other day and it caught my attention. Here it is:

"Just a reminder to all you parents out there to be modest with your gifts from "Santa". Not all parents have a ton of cash to spend on making their kids Christmas special, so it doesn't make sense to have Santa give your kids a PlayStation4, a bike, and an iPad, while his best friend at school gets a new hat and mittens from Santa. You know? Give something small from Santa and make the more expensive presents from you. You can explain the value of money to kids, but you can't explain Santa's discrimination to a heartbroken kid. Keep that in mind this year and always..."

Ugh. I have so many thoughts on this I just had to sit and stew for a few days. I believe the intention in this is good. The mark is completely missed, however, and here's why.

First, don't remind me to be modest with gifts from Santa. Modesty is subjective, and if how much I spend on gifts really bothers someone, that is their problem and not mine. Frankly, it's no one's business what is or isn't spent on gifts. If you want to judge another parent for giving their kid an "expensive" electronic, just remember that you're the one doing the judging.

The amount of cash dropped on Christmas does not directly correlate to how special Christmas is. Therefore, it does make sense to give your child whatever gift you deem appropriate because the highlight of Christmas shouldn't be the gifts. You know?

If my child goes to school with his new toy and sees that his best friend got a hat and mittens and then proceeds to judge said friend, I'm failing as a parent. Here's the thing about kids: they're kids. They don't automatically know this stuff. We teach it to them. We teach them to judge each other based on material possessions. We teach them the monetary value of things and to think differently about people that have less expensive items. Santa doesn't do that. We do.

How exactly is giving the expensive presents from the parents and not from Santa making a difference? When my children get to a certain age, they will know that "Santa" is really not a person and then I'll have to explain to them that I didn't want them to feel bad for the neighbor kids so I gave him expensive presents anyway... wait... let me try that again. I didn't want them to think Santa was a discriminating asshat so I took his place... hold on... I think I can get it this time... The gifts were too nice to be from Santa so I wanted all the credit... wait... that's not right either...

Stating that Santa discriminates against kids based on the gifts he hands out is the coward's way out. Again, one day, the kids will know that Santa was actually mom and dad. If my child comes home and is upset because Jimmy got something really cool from Santa and all he got was this lousy gift, I would first take away that lousy gift and preach a little about being thankful. Then I would teach my son the dangers of comparing himself to others.

I also explain the value of money to my children, just not at Christmas. There are far better times to teach this valuable lesson. For example, when we're at the grocery store and he wants the name brand cereal but the store brand cereal is an entire $2.50 cheaper. That's a great time to explain the value of money. I don't want to put a price tag on their gifts because then they learn to think in terms of money and equate happiness to a price.

Instead, I'd like to take that time to teach my children how to be grateful and thankful for what they have. I'd like to teach them how to value their possessions, not because it was an expensive gift from Santa, but because it was a gift that was purchased with his happiness in mind. It was given to him because someone else was thinking of him. The cool thing about that lesson is that it applies to both iPads and underwear. I want my children to be thankful for the action figure toy they wanted as much as for the hat and gloves they needed.

When my children think of Christmas, I don't want their entire holiday hinging on what Santa will bring. Yes, that's part of the fun and yes, they should be excited. But when they're older and think of Christmas, I don't want them to remember it in the form of "that was the year I got this." I want them to remember the smell of Gram's house, sledding down the hill, hearing the sounds of family and friends laughing and having a great time together. I want them to remember Christmas, not gifts. 

I get the intention of this post, I really do. However, I think it's things like this that is creating a generation of people that are offended by everything. Why should I be offended or upset or have any feelings at all towards what other people have? I shouldn't, and neither should our kids.

This Little Light of Mine

Yesterday, October 15, was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. My Facebook feed was filled with friends and family lighting candles for the babies they no longer get to hold and sharing their stories. It warmed my heart to see that so many are now willing to talk about this and that as a community, we are no longer ashamed.

Except me. I stood in my kitchen, looking at my candle, and I couldn't light it.

I couldn't bring myself to bring flame to the wick and remember the two babies I carried that never made it. Even writing this now, I'm feeling a little panicky.

I'm trying to figure out why. I will gladly share the details of my stories. Everything, from when I found out I was pregnant to the aftermath of losing the child. I've shared my one experience many times and you can read it here. I thought it was common knowledge until I was speaking with my mother one day and she was shocked to find out that I'd had two miscarriages.

I slowly began to realize that I don't really talk about it. Not that I want to. Not that I need to. But I simply don't.

It's the same reason I was staring at that candle last night, unable to light it. If I lit the candle and stood alone there in the dark with just a single flame, I'd be right back where I was when it happened. Alone. In the dark. 

I can tell you all the details and facts of what happened when I lost my babies. But I'll never tell you of the emotional pain that still lingers. I've made my peace with what happened. I know it wasn't meant to be. I have three beautiful and healthy babies now and if the others had survived, I wouldn't have that. I know this. I know it wasn't my fault. I know it couldn't have been prevented. I know that it happens, much more often than we care to realize.

I knew all the facts and they gave me comfort. What I didn't know was that it would tear me apart from the inside out. I didn't know that after my body healed, my mind and soul would still be scarred. What I didn't know was that they always would be.

In true strong woman fashion, I tried to ignore this. I worked straight through my first miscarriage, not wanting to share that detail with any of my coworkers. I tried to go back to work the next day after my second miscarriage, but my body wouldn't let me. My mind needed something to focus on but it wasn't physically possible.

I was sent home with words of sympathy and hugs and looks of pity that were extremely well intended, but that I hated just the same. I didn't need pity or sympathy. This shit happens. Just let me move on.

And I won't tell you how after I went home to rest my physical condition, my mental condition started to deteriorate. I won't tell you how I locked the bedroom door, turned off my phone and laid in the dark for a week and cried.

I won't tell you because the pity on your face won't change it. The hugs won't make me feel better. It's something that I had to endure even though I fought it every second. It's something I have to live with, always burning the back of my brain.

So no. I can't light my candle yet. One day, hopefully, just not today. The last thing I want is to be left alone in the dark with my thoughts again.

Ask me if I've lost babies, and I'll boldly tell you about them. I'll share the details of when and how and what it was like. But I won't tell you all of it.

I'm sharing this because I know there are other people out there who couldn't light their candle, either. I'm speaking, not as someone who has been through it and made it, but as someone who is going through it still.

And while I feel like I suffered through it alone and that I always will, I know that I have an incredibly strong support system in my family and friends. They know me and how I deal with things and they always seem to offer the right kind of comfort, even when I think I don't need it. That has been what has gotten me through, knowing that other people have felt what I have, even if it's something that can't be described in words.

One day, I'll be able to light my candle. I'll be able to sit in the dark and not let the bad thoughts win. I'll be able to cry and walk away feeling lighter instead of heavier. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next year. Maybe someday.

One day, their little lights will shine.