I believe

I believe:
- We each are responsible for our own happiness, and that no one can make someone else happy.
- I was born to be a mother.
- We can learn a lot of valuable lessons from hard or painful situations.
- The most important things in life can not be bought, and have nothing to do with money.
- There is good in everyone.
- True beauty is found on the inside, not the outside of a person.
- I am a lot stronger than most people give me credit for.
- It is vitally important to laugh every day.
- That sometimes smart people make stupid choices.
- Mistakes are a part of living.
- When we know better, we do better.
- Starbucks coffee, when combined with best friends, has healing properties.
- Love never makes people sad.
- Tears are not a sign of weakness, but they do make you stronger.
- Some of the most unexpected events can bring life's biggest blessings.
- Age is nothing but a number.
- Wisdom comes with maturity.
- If you don't take control of your life, you are a spectator, not a participant, in life.

What is going on here?

This is gonna be another one of my soapbox posts. Let me say first, that I admit I don't know a lot about politics. I do not have a college degree. I am well aware that I am not in any way qualified to make or change laws. I understand that, and I get that, I really do.

Still, I know the difference between right and wrong.

Last month, there was a bill passed in Utah, called The Criminal Homicide and Abortion Amendment. This bill makes it possible to charge women with murder for a miscarriage caused by "intentional or knowing" acts. Really?

Fist of all, I was not aware that in Utah abortion is only legal if there was rape or incest, if the mother's life is in danger, or if the child will be born with "grave birth defects". Apparently, each state is allowed to determine when abortion is legal.

This bill came into being because a 17 year old girl who was 7 months pregnant paid a friend 150 dollars to beat her up to cause a miscarriage. Her boyfriend had threatened to leave her if she didn't terminate her pregnancy. The baby survived the beating, and was adopted.

Clearly, this was a horrible thing to do. I am not at all suggesting that I support this in any way. I agree that there should be some type of consequence for these actions. Criminalizing miscarriages, however, is not the proper consequence.

Imagine a woman married to a man who physically abuses her. For whatever reason, she stays with him, and becomes pregnant. Eventually, he beats her so badly she miscarries her baby. Is she a murderer? By staying with her abuser, she committed an "intentional and knowing" act. Do you want to see her sent to prison? That would be ridiculous. Isn't that where this bill leads though?

This is what I think. The abortion debate has raged for years, and the decision to have an abortion is a personal one that I believe is ultimately the woman's decision, as she is the one who will ultimately have to live with the consequences of her decision. To label a woman a murderess because of that decision, will help no one.

A Bad Mommy Day

Today was a bad mommy day.

My usually sweet, sensitive, caring Bug got in trouble in school today. Apparently, my 8 year old Mr. Sensitive called a little girl in his class a "fat slob".

Oh. My. Hell.

Where to begin listing my problems with this? There is the fact that I make a very conscious effort to raise my children to be sensitive to others feelings, and until today, thought I had done the best with Bug. He really is an amazing kid most of the time. This is the child who, just 2 days ago made everyone in our house sign a peace treaty, promising not to yell or fight with anyone. He is always the most verbal when I ask how he feels about something. Actually, he is usually the only one that doesn't run away when I ask about feelings.

Bug is, by far the most sensitive of all of my children, the most like me, and someone saying that to him would devastate him. He has been known to get teary eyed because of a dirty look. Honestly, I cannot imagine those words coming out of his mouth.

I have had a weight problem my entire life, a battle that has led to food disorders, body image issues, diet pill abuse, and terminally low self esteem. I have always tried to convey to my children how badly words like fat can hurt, how the damage done by those words never goes away completely. Coupled with the recent case of a sweet young girl killing herself because of the torment of constant bullying by classmates. No, I don't think that this is on the same level, but could it be the beginning? I know that words hurt, and wounds from words don't heal. It breaks my heart that my son has done that to another person.

So, as a punishment, Bug wrote a letter of apology. He told her he was sorry, that he thought he was joking. I felt better after he wrote the letter, and after a LONG talk from me. I thought we made headway, thought I had demonstrated good parenting. As I sat to write this, a disagreement escalated between Bug and his sister. As I listened, my hand frozen above my keyboard, I heard it. He called his sister a fat pig. It is definitely a bad mommy day.

An Ordinary Day

In the midst of my ordinary, same as usual day, I had a HUGE revelation. I can't identify the exact moment of this revelation. Was it while I was playing with Baby G? Was it while talking to Mr. Wrong about ordinary, every day things? Maybe it was while Mr. Wrong and I waved goodbye to Bug on his school bus from our front porch, or when Mr. Wrong and I hung laundry outside on our clothes line, surrounded by the sound of our children playing. It could have been at any of those moments, or a thousand other moments in this ordinary day. At some point, I realized I am happy.

Happy and I don't have a very good relationship, I should point that out. I have gone to ridiculous, life changing lengths to find happy, and ended up in a depression so deep I am still amazed that I survived it. The problem was, I think, that I wasn't clear about what happy IS. I thought I was supposed to have adrenaline coursing through my veins, heart beating fast, my mind fuzzy all day every day. Writing it now, it doesn't even sound appealing, let alone realistic. Sadly, I haven't been happy in a long time, not really, and that is what I thought I was supposed to feel.

Another major problem happy and I have is that usually when I do get it, I worry myself right out of it. Every. Single. Time. I thrive in times of catastrophe and chaos, and when I have times of the peace and tranquility that I want so badly, I am waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. My glass becomes half empty. I look for the bad in every situation, and if I don't find any I CREATE bad. I'm not sure why I do these things, why I try to sabotage myself at every turn, but I do it well, of that I am sure. Hopefully, now that I am aware of doing it, I can stop.

My outlook on life is changing, slowly but steadily. I look for the good in situations, and people. I make a conscientious effort not to judge a book by it's cover, and take time to get to know what is inside. I have removed toxic people from my life, and replaced them with positive, uplifting people who validate me and encourage healthy life choices. I make every effort not to hurt anyone, including myself.

I know myself well, and it is completely possible that I will be here tomorrow with a list of complaints about what is wrong in my life. Today, however, today I am happy. It was a really awesome ordinary day.

Sometime

Today I went to a viewing for a friend and co worker. I was planning to tell her story here, and make my case for health care reform. While I still think that health care is important, after this afternoon, that is not the story I want to tell today. I have been told that everything happens for a reason, and while I don't believe that, I do strongly believe that we need to try to make something positive come out of terrible, tragic situations. I fall sadly short of that mark on many occasions, but today, I would like to try, for my friend.

So many times in life, we take for granted the people we are around every day. The co workers, friends, and family members that we see on a daily basis, sometimes never for a second considering the possibility that a day will come when we won't see them ever again. We exchange cell phone numbers with vague promises to call "sometime" and get together. We work long boring nights together and remark that we should do something together "sometime". Well, what if "sometime" never comes? Today I watched my co workers and supervisors crying over these very things. I saw my friends family devastated beyond anything a person should have to withstand because they will never have another day with their daughter, fiance, mother. There is a lesson to be learned from this experience, one I hope to never forget.

If you care about someone, please, do not assume that they know how you feel. I cannot express how strongly I feel about that. I will no longer make plans for "sometime" with anyone. I will make sure to make time, no matter what the situation, to have a cup of coffee, a beer after work, lunch on a day off. It is too important, too vital to let people you like and admire know how you feel. Much more important than anything else I might have to do that day. We lead busy lives, to be sure. We juggle jobs, and homes, and families and still try to have a few minutes of peace for ourselves each day. I get that, I really do, and I would be willing to bet the person you want to do things with "sometime" does too. Why not make sometime now, and find out?

Too Much Information

I think I am a reasonably nice person. I try to listen to others thoughts and feelings, and give them value. I genuinely do care about my friends lives, and I am more than happy to talk to any of them when they are having a problem, or when they are happy about some new development. I really, really am. Also, I should add that I pride myself on being friends with a wide variety of people. People of all different ages, religions, political beliefs. I am proud to say that I am able to maintain meaningful friendships regardless of our beliefs, and I enjoy learning about their perspective. However, there comes a point when enough is enough.

Lately, my homepage on facebook is filled with mildly nauseating status updates. "Going out with my baby", "missing my baby", "I love my baby". Gag. Do I really need to bear witness to people, supposedly adults, running their love life online? Is there no point that we keep some things behind closed doors? Mr. Wrong, being not the most mature person on the planet, has ran wild with this. For an entire week, I have recieved updates, texts, and even him SPEAKING "crossing the street with my baby", "shopping with my baby" , "My baby called me an ass", "Why did my baby just punch me? Now I'm sad". I'm telling you, it's out of control.

Just about an hour ago, while I was mentally preparing this very post, I logged into facebook. "Happy three month anniversary,baby! I love you!" So, this, though belated, is for my dear Mr. Wrong. Happy 212 month anniversary, baby!

The Real Me

You say that you want me back, but I have to wonder, do you even know who I am? I have to warn you, the person you knew, the person you say you miss, doesn't exist anymore. Actually, she never really did exist. The reality is, I made her up. I knew what was expected, knew exactly who everyone wanted me to be, so that's exactly who I was. I wasn't really trying to lie, that was never my intention. I just knew, at the very core, where the real truth can be found, that I wasn't good enough. For anyone. Not for you, certainly not for these amazing people who called me mommy. So, I tried. I really and honestly tried to be the person that everyone wanted, needed, me to be. I was better at it than I thought. I did it so well for so long that I kind of forgot who I really am. I don't know if I ever really knew the real me, but I do now, and from now on, that is who I will be, for better or worse.

Do you know what it's like to have the people you love more than life itself look at you differently? To be in a crowded place, and have strangers look at you with disapproval, judgment, or, in extreme cases, even outright disgust? Do you know what it like to look at those same people and know that they have the right to cast a vote regarding the validity of your soul? I do, now. These things do something to a person. Not necessarily bad things. It makes you stronger, thicker skinned. It gives you a sort of jagged edge, a protection of sorts. The tough, sharp outer layer necessary to protect the soft, bruised interior.

So, before you say something like you want me back, you need to take time. Take time to know who I am, all of me, even the parts you don't like. This is who I am now, and I'm not sure I fit in your world anymore. Are you?

It's Time

I have always been a pacifist by nature. I don't believe in fighting hatred with hatred, I don't believe in guns, or war. I do, however, believe that we have a military, young men and women who risk their lives to defend our country, my country, and that we as citizens should be thankful, and respectful of what they do. All of them. No matter who they are. Even if they happen to be gay.

It has always seemed rather sad to me, that we ask people to risk their lives to fight for our freedom, while denying them the most basic of freedoms, the freedom to be who they are. I never understood how the leaders of our country failed to see the hypocrisy in that. Yesterday, Colin Powell actually agreed with me.
"Attitudes and circumstances have changed," Powell said. "It's been a whole generation" since the legislation was adopted, and there is increased "acceptance of gays and lesbians in society," he said. "Society is always reflected in the military. It's where we get our soldiers from."

I have known people who have been discharged from the military for being lesbians. Personally, I really don't understand why a gay person would choose to serve in a military that clearly doesn't want them to be there. That is the beauty of choice, and I respect their choice to serve. I don't respect the fact that, since the inception of DADT 17 years ago, 13,500 men and women have been discharged. 13,500 careers ruined, livelihoods lost, because of sexual orientation. That, in my eyes, is not acceptable.

I am fully aware that once DADT is repealed, all hell is going to break loose. Sadly, even in 2010, homophobia can be deadly. I fear for the safety of the brave men and women who will proudly announce to the world who they are. Words cannot express my pride in them all. I am hopeful, that with the repeal we will pave the way for the next step, when, at long last, all men and women have the right to marry the person that they love, and live with dignity and respect. Because it's right. Because it's time.

Words

I love words.

If you happen to know me in "real life", you can attest to this. Do I not talk more than anyone you know? Do I not start conversations with random strangers in grocery store lines? Do I not say goodbye at least three times before actually hanging up the phone? Send text messages that could be novellas? Would I not talk to a TREE if left with no other option? Yeah, that would be me. If you don't know me in "real life", the fact that I have a blog might be a clue. I love words.

This is why I was so upset today, when reading some amazing blogs that I have fallen behind on lately, I found out that a school board in California has banned the dictionary! Apparently, the dictionary has a definition for "oral sex" and cannot possibly be useful for a fourth and fifth grade research library.

I have a fourth grade student. I haven't asked him, but I am reasonably sure that he has no idea what oral sex is. My roommate has a fourth grade student as well. Again, I have not asked, but I am reasonably sure she does know what oral sex is. I am equally sure neither of them have looked the term up in a dictionary.

I am not sure why one child most likely does know and one likely doesn't. My son is rather immature for his age, as the youngest of five, I think that is common. Her daughter is the youngest of four, and very mature for her age. If my son were to ask me what it was, I would most likely tell him, because I believe in answering these types of questions honestly as they are asked.

Now, I should pause here and explain that my parenting style has been criticized more than once. Mostly by people who have no children, but occasionally by people who do. I don't believe in bedtimes, I encourage my children to question authority. Respectfully, but question rather than blindly follow. I also don't think the world is going to come to an end if my kids are really angry and use a "dirty" or "bad" word. When I was a little girl, my grandmother told me that words like fuck or shit weren't bad words. They were ugly words, that shouldn't be said, but words like hate and war are "bad" words. Perhaps that is why I feel the way I do. I have a tendency to let the words fly myself when I am angry. I don't like my kids to say those words because I think it makes them sound rather stupid, and my children are all amazingly smart. They will get in trouble with me if they use words like gay, or fag, or queer as an insult. Luckily, that rarely if ever happens.

My point is this. We can ban books, we can make words taboo, we can shelter children to amazing lengths, but what are we accomplishing? Perhaps, instead of taking things away, instead of hiding the things that make us as parents uncomfortable, we should talk with our children. Maybe we should look up dirty words in the dictionary together, as we all did as children, and giggle with our children over the tantalizing definitions, then explain them, discuss their thoughts. Maybe then we will truly be acting with our kids best interest at heart, and we can make this world the kind of world we all keep saying we want.