Okay...so, I haven't blogged in forever, for a number of reasons that I will not take the time to expound upon right now. Suffice it to say, it's been a crazy and stressful couple of months and I've been a bit tuned out to the rest of the world. But tonight, I saw something that I felt the need to comment on. So here goes.
While browsing through my FB feed, I came upon this short article, posted by the Being Mommy FB page. It gives a very brief summary of a public school's inability to fight legal action threatened against them for participating in a charity drive. Being that it was so short, I did a bit more research on the story. More information can be found here or here. Basically, the students of a public school were collecting items to make "shoeboxes" for Operation Christmas Child, a drive funded by Samaritan's Purse, an openly Christian organization. This was the third year in a row they were involved with this specific drive.
They were forced to abandon their project when they were threatened with legal action by the American Humanist Association for being unconstitutional. They were told that because the drive they were participating in was funded by a Christian organization and they are a public charter school, that they are violating the church vs. state issues involved in the constitution, or more specifically: 42 U.S.C.A 1983. Being a small school, they didn't have the resources and funds to enter into a legal battle and so they did indeed abandon the drive, informing students and their families that they had been faced with legal action and to please donate their gathered items to another charity.
Here's my issue (and it's not about whether the school is being constitutional or unconstitutional):
The attack on this school came from the American Humanist Association. According to their website, "The AHA strives to bring about a progressive society where being "good without a god" is an accepted way to live life." More importantly, according to the website, Humanism is defined as "a progressive philosophy of life that, without theism and other supernatural beliefs, affirms our ability and responsibility to lead ethical lives of personal fulfillment that aspire to the greater good of humanity."
Now, I completely understand that a huge part of their philosophy is that no sort of god is necessary to lead what's considered a good, moral and ethical life. They're against God, gods, deities, any sort of supernatural beings, any sort of outside non-worldly help. Got it. That's fine. It is completely up to each individual to decide if they want to believe or not believe in anything. So I understand that their issue with Operation Christmas Child is that it's run by Samaritan's Purse which is a Christian charity.
HOWEVER....
Humanism "affirms our ability and responsibility to lead ethical lives of personal fulfillment that aspire to the greater good of humanity." The greater good of humanity. Can someone please explain to me how preventing boxes filled with toys, clothes and hygienic necessities from reaching their intended recipients in third world countries aspires to the greater good with humanity? Their (the AHA's) argument is that "the purpose and effect of Operation Christmas Child is to induce impoverished children to convert to Christianity” and “the boxes of toys are essentially a bribe, expressly used to pressure desperately poor children living in developing countries to convert to Christianity.”
In contrast to this, school officials stated that there were no religious materials included in the boxes and that the project was non-religious, strictly voluntary and not tied to any graded assignments.
It just seems slightly ironic to me that a group that claims to be "humanistic," a group that claims to "aspire to the greater good of humanity" will let their aversion to organized religion be a large enough obstacle to keep them from focusing on humanity. This is a group that preaches tolerance, that is, for everything except religion. So, basically, in order to save poor children from being bribed with Christianity, we're also going to deprive them of not only things that may be wanted, but also things that are desperately needed. Call me crazy, but that just doesn't sound real humanistic to me. It sounds more like they're on the exact opposite end of the spectrum as the WBC. WBC deals out intolerance under the guise of saving us from ourselves in the name of God. The AHA seems to deal out intolerance under the guise of saving us from God/gods/deities/etc. Either way, I think they're both missing their marks. By a lot.
I might suggest to the AHA that in lieu of not allowing those packages to reach their intended recipients, they replace those packages to those specific recipients from their own funds. Somehow, I don't think that's going to happen....Way to fail, AHA, way to fail.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Monday, September 16, 2013
September 16, 2013: My narrow and uneducated thoughts on Obamacare
As I was perusing my FB feed this morning in my daily ritual of social media-ing before starting my day, I came across an article a friend had shared by New York Magazine entitled "The Republican Plot to Kill Obamacare." It was a short blurb describing a number of Republican and/or conservative groups that are actively trying to tear Obamacare down before it gets fully raised up. It was short and sweet and in my mind, depicted Republicans/conservatives as petulant crybabies who are now throwing a huge tantrum because they didn't get their way. In my own personal experience with liberals, especially those involved in the media, this is pretty typical: they turn to name-calling and tit-for-tat because laying out a logical and intelligent side to their argument seems to be out of their scope of ability.
Sorry if this offends. Also, if you are a liberal and can lay out a logical and intelligent side to an argument, I would love to talk to you. About anything. It would be a blessed and appreciated change. Finally, before the bloodletting begins, I would like to point out that I do not consider myself a Republican or align myself with their party. Conservative? Fairly. But as of late, I find myself siding heavily with the Libertarian party. I did not vote for Mitt Romney in 2012. (I didn't vote for Obama either.) But I did vote.
Anyway. This was not meant to be a post about party vs. party, nor is it meant to start any fights. It's about Obamacare.
Now, I will be the first to admit that the amount of in-depth research I have done into Obamacare is not a whole lot. I haven't tracked down and read the pages upon pages of the actual bill. I haven't read word for word every detail that the bill entails. But I have done a bit and I've talked to a number of people in the medical field who have read the pages upon pages and have a pretty solid understanding of how it's going to affect them, their jobs and the field within which they work.
Obamacare is going to made health insurance accessible to everyone, even poor folks like me. Great! The first problem is, just like with auto insurance now, the insurance that will be a financial option for a lot of people may not be the best insurance available. The coverage may be limited, deductibles could potentially be higher, that insurance may not be accepted by certain practitioners. Insurance is now "affordable," yes, but is it worth it?
For example: the last company my husband worked for offered medical benefits to their employees. We got a nice little package explaining the costs and the coverage. What we found when we did the math is that the cost of the insurance was no cheaper than paying for everything out of pocket should it happen within a year's time. The monthly premium for a family of four was somewhere between $300 and $400 (which is 20% of his monthly income). That premium covered within a single year: 2 doctors' visits (per person, each of which had a co-pay), 1(one) 24-hour period hospital stay (total), 2 ER visits (total), 1 ambulance ride (total), and a co-pay for every prescription. Anything above and beyond that, we would pay for out-of-pocket. This year, alone, Chaz has spent five days in the hospital, there have been 3 ER visits, the girls have been to the pediatrician numerous times and we've each had at least one prescription we've had to have filled. If we had "taken advantage" of the wonderful health care that Chaz's employer so graciously offered us, we'd have paid at the very least $3,600 in the year, for the coverage alone, plus the out-of-pocket costs for everything that went above and beyond what the insurance covered.
Who's to say that the insurance offered by the Affordable Care Act won't be the same? Heavy deductibles, limited coverage, small networks. Now...maybe it won't be. We'll have to see. But somehow I doubt that the insurance that will be available to me, my family and people like us, will be as nice and comfortable as the health care that the rich and famous have access to. (Or the government, for that matter, who offers us this plan and lauds its benefits to the sky, but isn't bound by its rules. So, it's good enough for us but not good enough for them? Yeah, that makes me feel real good about it.) Because overall, this, like anything else, is a money-making scheme. The insurance companies provide a service for a price. The higher the price, the better the service. You get what you pay for. Insurance companies are being forced to provide "affordable" insurance. This to me, reads cheap. You pay for cheap insurance, you get cheap coverage. I guess we'll have to see how it plays out. And if I'm wrong, I will gladly admit it, because it will mean that Obamacare is working and no matter who put it into motion, if more people can afford good and proper medical care, that is what's important. I just don't believe it yet.
The second problem with this whole thing is that it limits the medical practitioners in what they can do. A friend of mine is one of the supervisors in the ER at the hospital that my family uses. He's had to get pretty up-close and personal with the new laws. And he (being an Obama supporter) does not support this change to our healthcare. He doesn't believe it will work.
Here's a scenario: when a person walks into the ER with certain symptoms, say, chest pains, doctors usually want to run a certain set of tests. These usually include certain cardio tests to check the person's heart, but can also include tests that check the lungs, the blood and other things. In the past, doctors have been able to run any or all of these tests based on their own knowledge and discretion so that they can get a fuller picture of what may or may not be going on and so they don't miss anything and open themselves up to malpractice suits.
Hospitals, unlike private practices, are required to accept any and all insurances. Under this new health care plan, practitioners will be limited in what tests they can run based on the insurance the patient has. If a person comes in with chest pains and has awesome insurance that covers everything, great! But if a person comes in with chest pains and affordable insurance under this plan, doctors are told to run certain chest pain specific tests and nothing else--because that's what the insurance covers. And you know, it's supposed to be affordable. Medical tests that aren't covered under insurance aren't affordable. And if what's wrong with said person actually becomes clear under the covered tests, again, great! But what if it isn't? What if what's wrong is something that isn't typical and can only be discovered by a test that isn't covered? What if that person suffers complications or even dies because the proper treatment for his condition wasn't covered by the affordable health care that the government has required him to have?
Doctors are now open to more malpractice suits, which is going to make more doctors head for the hills. They are going to go into private practice, where they have some level of control over what they can do. Their offices will accept the insurances that cover whatever treatments they may or may not want to do and they will not accept insurances that my limit their ability to practice. And what does that leave those of us stuck with "affordable" aka cheap medical insurance? Cheap medical care.
My family is currently on the medical card because we, like so many, cannot afford private health insurance. When it comes to the kids, this isn't much of an issue because all pediatricians are required by the government to accept the medical card as a form of insurance. So I can take my girls to a good doctor that I know and trust where they get good care.
My husband and me? Well, we're limited to the fairly small number of doctors in the area that actually accept the medical card.
Before I got married, when I was still on my parents' insurance, my doctor was awesome. There was never a time when she didn't spend at least a half hour in the room with me, no matter what was going on. She took her own vitals, she asked her own questions. She did a thorough exam and covered all her bases. She ran tests as she saw fit. She didn't leave anything to chance. And she's like that with all of her patients. I know, I used to work in her office for a short time, as did my mother (for a much longer time).
My doctor now probably sees fifty to a hundred patients a day. I went to see her for chronic back and neck pain after my car accident. She was in the exam room with me for five minutes. She was rushed and detached. She prescribed me some high dose ibruprofen, recommended physical therapy and told me to have a nice day. When I went back six weeks later for a "follow-up" and told her the ibruprofen wasn't making a difference, and that I'd used up the 20 physical therapy sessions that the medical card covers per year and I was still in considerable pain, she basically shrugged and told me I'd just have to learn to live with the pain. There wasn't much else she could do. Again, she was in the room for less than five minutes.
This is the difference between good medical care and affordable medical care. Why would anyone want to pay for affordable health care that they may try like hell not to use because it's crappy? Not too long ago I had a pretty bad sinus infection. I called my doctor's office for an appointment. They couldn't get me in for two weeks and the receptionist, with no sympathy whatsoever, basically told me to suck it up. I called a number of doctor's offices that didn't accept the medical card and was looking at anywhere between $85 and $160 for just the doctor's visit. I ended up going to the ER because I was in so much pain and that was the only place that wouldn't break me. Now, I try as hard as I can to not call my doctor's office. I do suck it up. Because it's not worth the half hour drive to get five minutes and no results. Why would I want to pay a monthly fee for a "service" that I try like hell not to use, because it's crappy?
This is what I fear Obamacare is going to do. It's going to force people to start paying for a service that may not be worth their time, effort and money to pay for. Because it's limited. On paper, it looks like an excellent idea. I just don't see it working in practice.
I suppose only time will tell.
Sorry if this offends. Also, if you are a liberal and can lay out a logical and intelligent side to an argument, I would love to talk to you. About anything. It would be a blessed and appreciated change. Finally, before the bloodletting begins, I would like to point out that I do not consider myself a Republican or align myself with their party. Conservative? Fairly. But as of late, I find myself siding heavily with the Libertarian party. I did not vote for Mitt Romney in 2012. (I didn't vote for Obama either.) But I did vote.
Anyway. This was not meant to be a post about party vs. party, nor is it meant to start any fights. It's about Obamacare.
Now, I will be the first to admit that the amount of in-depth research I have done into Obamacare is not a whole lot. I haven't tracked down and read the pages upon pages of the actual bill. I haven't read word for word every detail that the bill entails. But I have done a bit and I've talked to a number of people in the medical field who have read the pages upon pages and have a pretty solid understanding of how it's going to affect them, their jobs and the field within which they work.
Obamacare is going to made health insurance accessible to everyone, even poor folks like me. Great! The first problem is, just like with auto insurance now, the insurance that will be a financial option for a lot of people may not be the best insurance available. The coverage may be limited, deductibles could potentially be higher, that insurance may not be accepted by certain practitioners. Insurance is now "affordable," yes, but is it worth it?
For example: the last company my husband worked for offered medical benefits to their employees. We got a nice little package explaining the costs and the coverage. What we found when we did the math is that the cost of the insurance was no cheaper than paying for everything out of pocket should it happen within a year's time. The monthly premium for a family of four was somewhere between $300 and $400 (which is 20% of his monthly income). That premium covered within a single year: 2 doctors' visits (per person, each of which had a co-pay), 1(one) 24-hour period hospital stay (total), 2 ER visits (total), 1 ambulance ride (total), and a co-pay for every prescription. Anything above and beyond that, we would pay for out-of-pocket. This year, alone, Chaz has spent five days in the hospital, there have been 3 ER visits, the girls have been to the pediatrician numerous times and we've each had at least one prescription we've had to have filled. If we had "taken advantage" of the wonderful health care that Chaz's employer so graciously offered us, we'd have paid at the very least $3,600 in the year, for the coverage alone, plus the out-of-pocket costs for everything that went above and beyond what the insurance covered.
Who's to say that the insurance offered by the Affordable Care Act won't be the same? Heavy deductibles, limited coverage, small networks. Now...maybe it won't be. We'll have to see. But somehow I doubt that the insurance that will be available to me, my family and people like us, will be as nice and comfortable as the health care that the rich and famous have access to. (Or the government, for that matter, who offers us this plan and lauds its benefits to the sky, but isn't bound by its rules. So, it's good enough for us but not good enough for them? Yeah, that makes me feel real good about it.) Because overall, this, like anything else, is a money-making scheme. The insurance companies provide a service for a price. The higher the price, the better the service. You get what you pay for. Insurance companies are being forced to provide "affordable" insurance. This to me, reads cheap. You pay for cheap insurance, you get cheap coverage. I guess we'll have to see how it plays out. And if I'm wrong, I will gladly admit it, because it will mean that Obamacare is working and no matter who put it into motion, if more people can afford good and proper medical care, that is what's important. I just don't believe it yet.
The second problem with this whole thing is that it limits the medical practitioners in what they can do. A friend of mine is one of the supervisors in the ER at the hospital that my family uses. He's had to get pretty up-close and personal with the new laws. And he (being an Obama supporter) does not support this change to our healthcare. He doesn't believe it will work.
Here's a scenario: when a person walks into the ER with certain symptoms, say, chest pains, doctors usually want to run a certain set of tests. These usually include certain cardio tests to check the person's heart, but can also include tests that check the lungs, the blood and other things. In the past, doctors have been able to run any or all of these tests based on their own knowledge and discretion so that they can get a fuller picture of what may or may not be going on and so they don't miss anything and open themselves up to malpractice suits.
Hospitals, unlike private practices, are required to accept any and all insurances. Under this new health care plan, practitioners will be limited in what tests they can run based on the insurance the patient has. If a person comes in with chest pains and has awesome insurance that covers everything, great! But if a person comes in with chest pains and affordable insurance under this plan, doctors are told to run certain chest pain specific tests and nothing else--because that's what the insurance covers. And you know, it's supposed to be affordable. Medical tests that aren't covered under insurance aren't affordable. And if what's wrong with said person actually becomes clear under the covered tests, again, great! But what if it isn't? What if what's wrong is something that isn't typical and can only be discovered by a test that isn't covered? What if that person suffers complications or even dies because the proper treatment for his condition wasn't covered by the affordable health care that the government has required him to have?
Doctors are now open to more malpractice suits, which is going to make more doctors head for the hills. They are going to go into private practice, where they have some level of control over what they can do. Their offices will accept the insurances that cover whatever treatments they may or may not want to do and they will not accept insurances that my limit their ability to practice. And what does that leave those of us stuck with "affordable" aka cheap medical insurance? Cheap medical care.
My family is currently on the medical card because we, like so many, cannot afford private health insurance. When it comes to the kids, this isn't much of an issue because all pediatricians are required by the government to accept the medical card as a form of insurance. So I can take my girls to a good doctor that I know and trust where they get good care.
My husband and me? Well, we're limited to the fairly small number of doctors in the area that actually accept the medical card.
Before I got married, when I was still on my parents' insurance, my doctor was awesome. There was never a time when she didn't spend at least a half hour in the room with me, no matter what was going on. She took her own vitals, she asked her own questions. She did a thorough exam and covered all her bases. She ran tests as she saw fit. She didn't leave anything to chance. And she's like that with all of her patients. I know, I used to work in her office for a short time, as did my mother (for a much longer time).
My doctor now probably sees fifty to a hundred patients a day. I went to see her for chronic back and neck pain after my car accident. She was in the exam room with me for five minutes. She was rushed and detached. She prescribed me some high dose ibruprofen, recommended physical therapy and told me to have a nice day. When I went back six weeks later for a "follow-up" and told her the ibruprofen wasn't making a difference, and that I'd used up the 20 physical therapy sessions that the medical card covers per year and I was still in considerable pain, she basically shrugged and told me I'd just have to learn to live with the pain. There wasn't much else she could do. Again, she was in the room for less than five minutes.
This is the difference between good medical care and affordable medical care. Why would anyone want to pay for affordable health care that they may try like hell not to use because it's crappy? Not too long ago I had a pretty bad sinus infection. I called my doctor's office for an appointment. They couldn't get me in for two weeks and the receptionist, with no sympathy whatsoever, basically told me to suck it up. I called a number of doctor's offices that didn't accept the medical card and was looking at anywhere between $85 and $160 for just the doctor's visit. I ended up going to the ER because I was in so much pain and that was the only place that wouldn't break me. Now, I try as hard as I can to not call my doctor's office. I do suck it up. Because it's not worth the half hour drive to get five minutes and no results. Why would I want to pay a monthly fee for a "service" that I try like hell not to use, because it's crappy?
This is what I fear Obamacare is going to do. It's going to force people to start paying for a service that may not be worth their time, effort and money to pay for. Because it's limited. On paper, it looks like an excellent idea. I just don't see it working in practice.
I suppose only time will tell.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
September 3, 2013--So you know how to blame a victim. Well, that makes you a class act, doesn't it?
**This post has been slightly edited; I was advised by a reader whose opinion I value that it was a bit hard to follow and below my typical standards as a writer. I agree with her and knew that when I posted it, but I originally posted this in an extremely emotional state of mind and had some things I needed to say. Now that I've said them and had some time to reflect, I will try to make my point in a more concise and articulate way. Thank you for reading.**
A few weeks ago I blogged about people being passively judgmental. Now, I have a few things to say about being overtly and blatantly judgmental. Specifically when it comes to a situation that you know absolutely nothing about. More specifically, when it comes to a situation where there is a victim involved, and you feel the need to blame them for said situation. But first, here's a hypothetical situation for you:
"Rowena" is a 26 year old female. She's a pretty typical 26 year old--she's worked a fair amount in food service jobs, every few months she struggles a bit to get her bills paid, she's had a couple of serious relationships that have ended up going nowhere, lately she's been on pins and needles with her roommates and she is now considering how to go about getting a "new start" on her life. Pertinent also to the story is that growing up, her father was physically abusive and her mother wasn't always around.
One day, while hanging out with her best friend and her best friend's husband, Rowena meets Mick, a friend of theirs. There is an instant attraction between Rowena and Mick and they start dating immediately. It's a bit of a whirlwind romance, yes, but for the first time in a while Rowena is happy. About three months into the relationship, much to the dismay of her family and many of her friends and acquaintances, Rowena finds a new job and moves in with Mick. She's found her new start.
Now, a little about "Mick." He's a military vet that has been medically discharged. He's extremely intelligent and gets bored easily. He's fascinated by things like conspiracy theories and dirty politics and he believes in other sentient beings (aka aliens). The word "crazy" has been used to describe him by many people, including his close friends, but that doesn't bother him. Or his friends, for that matter. He's simply "being Mick."
A few weeks after Rowena moves in, Mick decides to check out a local head shop and ends up buying some "fake weed." Also known as incense or bath salts. He has a very bad (although fairly typical) reaction to it. Suddenly he is having hallucinations, he's paranoid, he can't sleep (and doesn't for days). Simply put, he enters a state of drug-induced psychosis.
Rowena, who is completely unfamiliar with this type of situation and who doesn't recognize the guy she's now staying with, does everything she can to help him, to try and stay in control of the situation. She admits to herself that she's in love with Mick, has been for a while, and for that reason she's going to stick by him through this episode...and when it's done, she's going to try like hell to make sure it never happens again, because she's scared.
Unfortunately, in the middle of Mick's psychotic episode, he becomes violent. He hits Rowena, once. She leaves the apartment immediately and seeks medical attention. The police are called and Mick is arrested. Rowena refuses to press charges, however, and because this is Mick's first offense and he has no history of violence he is released. Based on the research she's done and talking to her best friend's husband (who is Mick's best friend and knows him better than just about anybody) Rowena figures that Mick will be coming out of this state anytime, so she goes back to the apartment with the intention of helping him through the rest of it. Two days later, Mick still hasn't come down and he becomes violent again. Rowena again leaves the apartment immediately, calls her friends to come pick her up and starts making arrangements to leave for good. She gets a police escort to move her things out of the apartment the very next day and three days later, she is on her way to stay with a relative who lives out of state. She doesn't speak to Mick again.
Before leaving, she confides in her best friend that she is very worried about Mick and just wants to know if he's okay. She admits to going back to the apartment to look for him but he's gone and she doesn't know where he might have gone. She's called his only relative, who hasn't seen or heard from him. She knows she needs to leave and she is going to, but she loves Mick and needs to know that he's alright. She also tells her best friend that she's feeling a lot of anger, not towards Mick, but towards her father and some of her other friends because they are bombarding her with sentiments like "You should have known better" and "That's what you get" and "You're stupid" and "Why do you care about him, he hit you."
After a teary goodbye, she heads out of state to seek her own help and to move on with her life.
I call this a hypothetical situation, but in reality it is very close to a situation that has recently occurred to someone close to me. I present it as a hypothetical to try and preserve some sense of privacy for the parties involved. And I present the entire story to you to give you an idea of what was going on before I dive into the major point and issue I have with it.
And that issue encompasses two very small but two very strong words: You're stupid.
The words "you're stupid" have been directed towards many people in this world, in many different situations. Whether they are appropriate or not, whether they are said jokingly or not, they can be (and oftentimes are) taken as degrading and hurtful. These two words are specifically degrading and hurtful when they are directed at women (or anyone in that matter) in abusive situations.
Have you ever heard of "battered woman syndrome?" (If not, here's a very basic overview.) Battered woman syndrome is a subcategory of post-traumatic stress disorder and it refers to women who are physically abused over and over again yet have extreme difficulty leaving the situation they are in. Such women are often referred to as stupid. They are asked, over and over again, "Why don't you just leave?" "If you're in a bad situation, get out of it." "Leave him." "Get out." "If you stay, then you're stupid." Just like in the situation of rape, in cases of battered women, blaming the victim becomes commonplace.
To these people who find themselves justified in addressing these women in such a way, I would like to simply and very politely say: Shut your {insert appropriate adjective here}mouth.
If you have never been in such a situation, you have absolutely no clue as to the psychological trauma that occurs. It's not just about being hit. It's not just about the physical aspect of abuse. It's the mental, emotional and psychological aspects of the abuse. Women are emotional beings, whether we like it or not. And love is a pretty strong emotion. Seriously, what hasn't been done for love? People steal to feed their children, or their parents for that matter. People murder for the sake of their loved ones. Wars have been fought and countries defended by men and women who simply strive to protect the people they love from danger. A lot is done in the name of love. Seeing a woman stay with a man because she loves him, even when he hurts her, is not new. It happens everyday. We see it all the time.
My question then, is this: Can all of these women, each and every one of them, be stupid? Really? Are each and every one of them suffering from a lack of intelligence? Perhaps that is easy to assume. However, might there actually be something else going on, something under the surface that we, who haven't experienced what they've experienced, cannot possibly understand? Might there possibly be some sort of psychological damage that is done, some sort of thought process that they cannot escape that might be influencing their decisions? Gee, there's a thought.
Battered women have often suffered abuse their entire lives (as Rowena did). They are brought up believing that they are somehow at fault for the abuse. They blame themselves and constantly try to "do better" knowing that they will continually fall short. And when they find themselves in a similar situation as an adult, with a boyfriend or husband, they continue to believe that somehow the situation is their fault. So instead of leaving, they continue to try harder, to do better, to be better and if they are, the abuse will stop. This thought process is textbook. It happens in almost every case. Not because the woman is "stupid"--not because she lacks intelligence or common sense--but because abuse is cyclic. And the victim is stuck in that cycle. Breaking away from it is extremely difficult and oftentimes it takes months if not years to achieve...if it ever is achieved.
"Rowena" was not even suffering from battered woman syndrome. Her case had not gone that far. She was not with Mick long enough and the abuse hadn't been going on long enough for it to qualify. He hit her twice within the same number of days and that was enough for her to get out, to leave. Was it hard for her? Yes. Did she still claim feelings for him, did she worry about him and his well-being because she loved him? Absolutely. But she left. She got out. She did it a lot more quickly than most women ever do.
And yet, she was still called stupid. By her abusive father, no less. And by others who were supposed to be supportive and loving in this situation. People she should have been able to depend on.
So, here's my newsflash for all you loving and supportive {read: judgmental} people out there: Being superior does NOT equal being supportive. Sure, you may have looked at a situation from the outside and not agreed with the actions and decisions of those you claim to care about. You may have looked at the situation and said, "That's not going to turn out well." And you may even be right. Congratulations. However, when it goes wrong, as it indubitably will sometimes, you then take great pleasure and pride in being able to say "I told you so." Guess what? Saying "I told you so" makes you a {insert appropriate not-so-nice term here}. It may make you feel better, it may make you feel justified, but it just makes the person you told it to feel even worse than they already do. And here's another newsflash for you: This isn't about you!
"Rowena" went through a trauma. Every woman (or man, or child) who is abused suffers trauma. They all suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder and the swirling thoughts in their own heads. They are already telling themselves that they are stupid, that they are wrong for loving a person who would hit them, that they shouldn't be worried about that person, that everyone around them that has warned them about getting together or moving in with a person they've known for so little time was right. Even worse, they believe they're somehow responsible for the situation. Having all of those sentiments repeated harshly and heavily in their ears is not helpful. It only makes the situation that much worse.
This is how it is for every person who is victimized. They each go through the same very specific set of reactions. They blame themselves. They rationalize their abuser's actions. They believe their abusers when they're promised that the abuse is over. Things like PTSD, battered woman syndrome and Stockholm Syndrome aren't just money making schemes by the shrinks of this world. They're real. They happen. To millions of people every day. And they're not simple. They are complicated, difficult states of being to deal with and to be successfully treated, they demand a strong support system for the victim.
So if you know a victim and all you can think to say to them is "you should have known better" or "I told you so," do me--and them--a favor and keep your mouth shut. Congratulations. You are omniscient and all-powerful and your hindsight is 20/20. In the meantime, while you're patting yourself on the back for being so wonderful, the person you claim to love is falling to pieces. Way to go on being a grade-A {insert another appropriate not-so-nice term here}. I'm sure my sentiments are obvious.
A few weeks ago I blogged about people being passively judgmental. Now, I have a few things to say about being overtly and blatantly judgmental. Specifically when it comes to a situation that you know absolutely nothing about. More specifically, when it comes to a situation where there is a victim involved, and you feel the need to blame them for said situation. But first, here's a hypothetical situation for you:
"Rowena" is a 26 year old female. She's a pretty typical 26 year old--she's worked a fair amount in food service jobs, every few months she struggles a bit to get her bills paid, she's had a couple of serious relationships that have ended up going nowhere, lately she's been on pins and needles with her roommates and she is now considering how to go about getting a "new start" on her life. Pertinent also to the story is that growing up, her father was physically abusive and her mother wasn't always around.
One day, while hanging out with her best friend and her best friend's husband, Rowena meets Mick, a friend of theirs. There is an instant attraction between Rowena and Mick and they start dating immediately. It's a bit of a whirlwind romance, yes, but for the first time in a while Rowena is happy. About three months into the relationship, much to the dismay of her family and many of her friends and acquaintances, Rowena finds a new job and moves in with Mick. She's found her new start.
Now, a little about "Mick." He's a military vet that has been medically discharged. He's extremely intelligent and gets bored easily. He's fascinated by things like conspiracy theories and dirty politics and he believes in other sentient beings (aka aliens). The word "crazy" has been used to describe him by many people, including his close friends, but that doesn't bother him. Or his friends, for that matter. He's simply "being Mick."
A few weeks after Rowena moves in, Mick decides to check out a local head shop and ends up buying some "fake weed." Also known as incense or bath salts. He has a very bad (although fairly typical) reaction to it. Suddenly he is having hallucinations, he's paranoid, he can't sleep (and doesn't for days). Simply put, he enters a state of drug-induced psychosis.
Rowena, who is completely unfamiliar with this type of situation and who doesn't recognize the guy she's now staying with, does everything she can to help him, to try and stay in control of the situation. She admits to herself that she's in love with Mick, has been for a while, and for that reason she's going to stick by him through this episode...and when it's done, she's going to try like hell to make sure it never happens again, because she's scared.
Unfortunately, in the middle of Mick's psychotic episode, he becomes violent. He hits Rowena, once. She leaves the apartment immediately and seeks medical attention. The police are called and Mick is arrested. Rowena refuses to press charges, however, and because this is Mick's first offense and he has no history of violence he is released. Based on the research she's done and talking to her best friend's husband (who is Mick's best friend and knows him better than just about anybody) Rowena figures that Mick will be coming out of this state anytime, so she goes back to the apartment with the intention of helping him through the rest of it. Two days later, Mick still hasn't come down and he becomes violent again. Rowena again leaves the apartment immediately, calls her friends to come pick her up and starts making arrangements to leave for good. She gets a police escort to move her things out of the apartment the very next day and three days later, she is on her way to stay with a relative who lives out of state. She doesn't speak to Mick again.
Before leaving, she confides in her best friend that she is very worried about Mick and just wants to know if he's okay. She admits to going back to the apartment to look for him but he's gone and she doesn't know where he might have gone. She's called his only relative, who hasn't seen or heard from him. She knows she needs to leave and she is going to, but she loves Mick and needs to know that he's alright. She also tells her best friend that she's feeling a lot of anger, not towards Mick, but towards her father and some of her other friends because they are bombarding her with sentiments like "You should have known better" and "That's what you get" and "You're stupid" and "Why do you care about him, he hit you."
After a teary goodbye, she heads out of state to seek her own help and to move on with her life.
I call this a hypothetical situation, but in reality it is very close to a situation that has recently occurred to someone close to me. I present it as a hypothetical to try and preserve some sense of privacy for the parties involved. And I present the entire story to you to give you an idea of what was going on before I dive into the major point and issue I have with it.
And that issue encompasses two very small but two very strong words: You're stupid.
The words "you're stupid" have been directed towards many people in this world, in many different situations. Whether they are appropriate or not, whether they are said jokingly or not, they can be (and oftentimes are) taken as degrading and hurtful. These two words are specifically degrading and hurtful when they are directed at women (or anyone in that matter) in abusive situations.
Have you ever heard of "battered woman syndrome?" (If not, here's a very basic overview.) Battered woman syndrome is a subcategory of post-traumatic stress disorder and it refers to women who are physically abused over and over again yet have extreme difficulty leaving the situation they are in. Such women are often referred to as stupid. They are asked, over and over again, "Why don't you just leave?" "If you're in a bad situation, get out of it." "Leave him." "Get out." "If you stay, then you're stupid." Just like in the situation of rape, in cases of battered women, blaming the victim becomes commonplace.
To these people who find themselves justified in addressing these women in such a way, I would like to simply and very politely say: Shut your {insert appropriate adjective here}mouth.
If you have never been in such a situation, you have absolutely no clue as to the psychological trauma that occurs. It's not just about being hit. It's not just about the physical aspect of abuse. It's the mental, emotional and psychological aspects of the abuse. Women are emotional beings, whether we like it or not. And love is a pretty strong emotion. Seriously, what hasn't been done for love? People steal to feed their children, or their parents for that matter. People murder for the sake of their loved ones. Wars have been fought and countries defended by men and women who simply strive to protect the people they love from danger. A lot is done in the name of love. Seeing a woman stay with a man because she loves him, even when he hurts her, is not new. It happens everyday. We see it all the time.
My question then, is this: Can all of these women, each and every one of them, be stupid? Really? Are each and every one of them suffering from a lack of intelligence? Perhaps that is easy to assume. However, might there actually be something else going on, something under the surface that we, who haven't experienced what they've experienced, cannot possibly understand? Might there possibly be some sort of psychological damage that is done, some sort of thought process that they cannot escape that might be influencing their decisions? Gee, there's a thought.
Battered women have often suffered abuse their entire lives (as Rowena did). They are brought up believing that they are somehow at fault for the abuse. They blame themselves and constantly try to "do better" knowing that they will continually fall short. And when they find themselves in a similar situation as an adult, with a boyfriend or husband, they continue to believe that somehow the situation is their fault. So instead of leaving, they continue to try harder, to do better, to be better and if they are, the abuse will stop. This thought process is textbook. It happens in almost every case. Not because the woman is "stupid"--not because she lacks intelligence or common sense--but because abuse is cyclic. And the victim is stuck in that cycle. Breaking away from it is extremely difficult and oftentimes it takes months if not years to achieve...if it ever is achieved.
"Rowena" was not even suffering from battered woman syndrome. Her case had not gone that far. She was not with Mick long enough and the abuse hadn't been going on long enough for it to qualify. He hit her twice within the same number of days and that was enough for her to get out, to leave. Was it hard for her? Yes. Did she still claim feelings for him, did she worry about him and his well-being because she loved him? Absolutely. But she left. She got out. She did it a lot more quickly than most women ever do.
And yet, she was still called stupid. By her abusive father, no less. And by others who were supposed to be supportive and loving in this situation. People she should have been able to depend on.
So, here's my newsflash for all you loving and supportive {read: judgmental} people out there: Being superior does NOT equal being supportive. Sure, you may have looked at a situation from the outside and not agreed with the actions and decisions of those you claim to care about. You may have looked at the situation and said, "That's not going to turn out well." And you may even be right. Congratulations. However, when it goes wrong, as it indubitably will sometimes, you then take great pleasure and pride in being able to say "I told you so." Guess what? Saying "I told you so" makes you a {insert appropriate not-so-nice term here}. It may make you feel better, it may make you feel justified, but it just makes the person you told it to feel even worse than they already do. And here's another newsflash for you: This isn't about you!
"Rowena" went through a trauma. Every woman (or man, or child) who is abused suffers trauma. They all suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder and the swirling thoughts in their own heads. They are already telling themselves that they are stupid, that they are wrong for loving a person who would hit them, that they shouldn't be worried about that person, that everyone around them that has warned them about getting together or moving in with a person they've known for so little time was right. Even worse, they believe they're somehow responsible for the situation. Having all of those sentiments repeated harshly and heavily in their ears is not helpful. It only makes the situation that much worse.
This is how it is for every person who is victimized. They each go through the same very specific set of reactions. They blame themselves. They rationalize their abuser's actions. They believe their abusers when they're promised that the abuse is over. Things like PTSD, battered woman syndrome and Stockholm Syndrome aren't just money making schemes by the shrinks of this world. They're real. They happen. To millions of people every day. And they're not simple. They are complicated, difficult states of being to deal with and to be successfully treated, they demand a strong support system for the victim.
So if you know a victim and all you can think to say to them is "you should have known better" or "I told you so," do me--and them--a favor and keep your mouth shut. Congratulations. You are omniscient and all-powerful and your hindsight is 20/20. In the meantime, while you're patting yourself on the back for being so wonderful, the person you claim to love is falling to pieces. Way to go on being a grade-A {insert another appropriate not-so-nice term here}. I'm sure my sentiments are obvious.
"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."--Plato
You may have absolutely no idea just how hard a battle a person may be fighting and that alone is reason enough to take a second before whipping your judgments around. If you do however, have even an inkling of how hard a person's battle might be, all the more reason to send them your support, your love, your shoulder, and keep your petty and unnecessary judgments to yourself. Whether you think you're right or not. Their battle is hard enough. They don't need you making it harder. You may want to remember that when you find yourself in a battle and realize you have nobody willing to fight for you because you were unable to fight for them.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
August 13, 2013--Passive Judgment
"Stop feeling like you have to explain yourself to everyone else or justify your decisions. Are you doing what's best for you? Does it make you feel good/happy/fulfilled? Does it feel like the right timing to you? AWESOME. That's all that matters. You're under no obligation to live according to anyone else's feelings, concerns or opinions about what's best."
I posted this quote on Facebook yesterday because I find that I need to remind myself of this constantly. It can be applied to a number of aspects of my life (and others' as well, I'm sure)--how I choose to raise my children, how I choose to spend my money, how I choose to deal with my husband, my parents, my in-laws, what I choose to eat and subsequently, what I feed my children. And the list can go on and on and on.
I'm not sure what it is that makes many people in this life feel like they are entitled to pass judgment on others. I don't know if it's a misplaced sense of superiority or rather a profound sense of insecurity. I do know that I used to be like that and in my case I think it was a combination of the two. It took having that constant feeling of being judged for me to realize that that was not the kind of person I wanted to be. I have worked very hard over the past year or so to not be that person anymore; to realize that I may not know a person's story and even though what is presented to me might look really bad, I have absolutely no idea what may have triggered it.
People make decisions based on a lot of reasons; they may or may not choose their religion, their sexual orientation, their career path. They may change their religion, their sexual orientation or their career path. People who had bad parents may choose to not have kids because they worry they will be like their parents. Other people choose specifically to have kids and swear they will be nothing like their parents. Some people face their problems and others run away from them. But the decisions people make and the paths they choose are triggered by their whole life story and it really isn't up to the rest of the world to make snap judgments based on limited information.
What saddens me most when it comes to this issue is that often times, I find that these judgments can come from the people we hold closest to us. Family, close friends, people we've known for a lifetime. Those people who should know us best, who should understand us, are often the quickest to make it known when they don't approve.
Now, let me just be clear: there is a difference between not approving and judging. You don't have to approve of every decision those close to you make. But passing a blatant and negative judgment about the things you don't approve of is not in any way helpful or conducive to the situation. It's a fine line, I know, but support is crucial, even in situations that you don't approve of. God doesn't approve of our sin, but he also doesn't condemn us for it. He is merciful and forgiving. In my mind, that equates to us being supportive of those we love, even if we're not completely on board with what's going on.
Family is extremely important to me. Always has been and unless something major happens, always will be. I love my family dearly and would do anything for them. That being said, what my family thinks of me, my family (meaning me, Chaz and the girls) and our life is important. These are the people I depend on, the people I care about, the people who mean the most to me. I want them to be proud of me. I want them to have my back. I want them to be part of my girls' lives. So it is extremely hard for me when I get the feeling that one of the people I value greatly doesn't approve of what I'm doing.
Well, and it's not even the disapproval that bothers me. I am not naive enough to believe that I am going to please every person with every decision I make. What bothers me is when people don't feel like they can come straight out and tell me they disapprove, but they make it perfectly clear that they don't anyway. I have always felt that being family--whether that's by blood or not--demands honesty. Because if you can't be honest with the people you love, who can you be honest with? So I expect people to be honest with me, with the expectation that I can be honest with them. Even if they don't like what I'm doing, even if I don't like what they're doing, I feel like being family means that we should be able to be upfront and honest about our disagreements without causing major distress.
I don't believe it's okay when your words say one thing but the underlying meaning is crystal clear--and in complete opposition to your words. Because in most cases it's completely evident that you don't like or agree or approve of what's happening, but in the guise of "being nice" or not wanting to "hurt someone's feelings" or whatever, you won't say so. That's not love and it's not support and it's not okay. It's patronizing and degrading and hurtful.
The overall point here--and again, yes, I do have one--is that what my family and close friends think matters to me. And at times, more than it should, apparently. And so I need to remind myself that at this junction in my life--as a married adult with children--that I know what is best for me, my husband, my children and the four of us as a family. The person whose opinion matters most is my husband's. We have to make decisions together that work for us and our girls and if the people around us don't agree or can't understand, well, I'm just going to have to live with that and get over it. Because in the end, as much as I love my family (big), I have to put my family (small) first. We know our needs best and yes, we're going to make mistakes and have setbacks. But those are our mistakes to make, our setbacks to have. Our parents had them in their own time, our grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins have all had them too. They learned and adjusted and grew.
Now it's my turn.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
July 9, 2013--My Thoughts on Young Kids on Shows Like AGT
Ok, here's my issue with fairly young and really young kids on shows like America's Got Talent, or more specifically, sending fairly young and really young kids through to the next level:
9 times out of 10, you are setting them up for "failure."
Now, before everybody goes nuts and rips my heart out (because I know there are plenty of people who are going to disagree with me), let me clarify.
There are millions of talented kids out there. There are tons of kids who can sing, play instruments, dance, do gymnastics, etc. There are millions of kids who are going to cultivate talents at a young age, be very good at what they do at a young age and only get better as they get older. I hope that my daughters develop interests early on that morph into incredible talent and more importantly, great loves.
Unfortunately, when it comes to a show like AGT (where young kids are encouraged to audition), the numbers don't work in these young kids' favors. The young eleven-year-old girl who sang on tonight's episode was a good singer. She hit her notes properly, she was adorable, she has a perfectly enjoyable voice to listen to. Here's the problem: the open auditions aren't over yet and she's one of a number of young kid singers who have gotten through. And while her voice is good, she hits her notes, she's perfectly adorable--she is in NO WAY as good as a great number of other acts that have come through. She is not going to win this season. She's good, but she's not one in a million; she's one among a million.
Now, she's been sent to Las Vegas, where chances are, she's going to get sent home before the live shows. And she's going to be heartbroken. Her parents are going to shell out the money, the time, the effort, etc, to make a trip to Las Vegas where she may (or may not) get sent right back home. And if she does make it to New York, to the live shows, again, at some point she's going to get sent home.
****I will say this now--if she would come back and win this whole thing, you all can come back and roast me in a pit.****
I have watched this show for many seasons now and I have watched a lot of kids get sent home and I have watched their tears and ached at their dejection at being rejected. To me, it's cruel.
I know that in any journey into success, one has to suffer failure after failure, rejection after rejection, before one makes it to the top. I understand that. It's part of life. But I think there is a venue for those kind of challenges for children that young, and I don't think one of those venues should be national TV, especially when these kids are competing against adults. There is nothing wrong with chasing dreams, and as parents, it is our job to encourage our children to chase their dreams. It is also our job, in my opinion, to shelter them--up to a point.
This season, there have been three dancing couples that have gone through--ages 5-13. They're talented dancers and they're adorable. However, when they dance against the adult dancers that have also gone through, they are not going to make the cut. The same goes for the young singers. It comes down to a matter of experience.
So, if either of my daughters pursues singing (or dancing, or gymnastics, or sports) I will encourage them in their pursuits. If at five, or seven, or nine years old I think and they think that they are more talented in their skill than others their age, then I will allow them to compete in age-appropriate competitions. I will seek out the proper tutelage and education for them and allow their talents to develop in a natural way.
Will I let them audition at America's Got Talent at five years or even ten or eleven years of age? No, probably not.
There are easier hurdles to jump and there are easier rejections to handle. I don't think five year olds or even ten or eleven year olds are able to properly handle the pressure of being rejected by stars like Howard Stern and Howie Mandel on national television. Older teens and adults, yes, absolutely. They've learned that the world isn't fair, that sometimes people are going to tell you no and if you really believe in yourself, you'll continue to work. But the type of rejection that these young kids can face on a show like AGT can be crushing.
I just don't agree with it.
Now, let the tongue-lashings begin.
9 times out of 10, you are setting them up for "failure."
Now, before everybody goes nuts and rips my heart out (because I know there are plenty of people who are going to disagree with me), let me clarify.
There are millions of talented kids out there. There are tons of kids who can sing, play instruments, dance, do gymnastics, etc. There are millions of kids who are going to cultivate talents at a young age, be very good at what they do at a young age and only get better as they get older. I hope that my daughters develop interests early on that morph into incredible talent and more importantly, great loves.
Unfortunately, when it comes to a show like AGT (where young kids are encouraged to audition), the numbers don't work in these young kids' favors. The young eleven-year-old girl who sang on tonight's episode was a good singer. She hit her notes properly, she was adorable, she has a perfectly enjoyable voice to listen to. Here's the problem: the open auditions aren't over yet and she's one of a number of young kid singers who have gotten through. And while her voice is good, she hits her notes, she's perfectly adorable--she is in NO WAY as good as a great number of other acts that have come through. She is not going to win this season. She's good, but she's not one in a million; she's one among a million.
Now, she's been sent to Las Vegas, where chances are, she's going to get sent home before the live shows. And she's going to be heartbroken. Her parents are going to shell out the money, the time, the effort, etc, to make a trip to Las Vegas where she may (or may not) get sent right back home. And if she does make it to New York, to the live shows, again, at some point she's going to get sent home.
****I will say this now--if she would come back and win this whole thing, you all can come back and roast me in a pit.****
I have watched this show for many seasons now and I have watched a lot of kids get sent home and I have watched their tears and ached at their dejection at being rejected. To me, it's cruel.
I know that in any journey into success, one has to suffer failure after failure, rejection after rejection, before one makes it to the top. I understand that. It's part of life. But I think there is a venue for those kind of challenges for children that young, and I don't think one of those venues should be national TV, especially when these kids are competing against adults. There is nothing wrong with chasing dreams, and as parents, it is our job to encourage our children to chase their dreams. It is also our job, in my opinion, to shelter them--up to a point.
This season, there have been three dancing couples that have gone through--ages 5-13. They're talented dancers and they're adorable. However, when they dance against the adult dancers that have also gone through, they are not going to make the cut. The same goes for the young singers. It comes down to a matter of experience.
So, if either of my daughters pursues singing (or dancing, or gymnastics, or sports) I will encourage them in their pursuits. If at five, or seven, or nine years old I think and they think that they are more talented in their skill than others their age, then I will allow them to compete in age-appropriate competitions. I will seek out the proper tutelage and education for them and allow their talents to develop in a natural way.
Will I let them audition at America's Got Talent at five years or even ten or eleven years of age? No, probably not.
There are easier hurdles to jump and there are easier rejections to handle. I don't think five year olds or even ten or eleven year olds are able to properly handle the pressure of being rejected by stars like Howard Stern and Howie Mandel on national television. Older teens and adults, yes, absolutely. They've learned that the world isn't fair, that sometimes people are going to tell you no and if you really believe in yourself, you'll continue to work. But the type of rejection that these young kids can face on a show like AGT can be crushing.
I just don't agree with it.
Now, let the tongue-lashings begin.
July 9, 2013--Daughters
Day to day I dance with dragons
and listen to the roars of my little lions.
Unveiled each day is a new lease on life
garnished with giggles and tickles and smiles.
Hallowed has become the ground that is
tattered and stained and ridden with crumbs, for it
e'er measures each step, every tiny footprint in the sand.
Reverence floods my gaze each time I see
she and she, for both are my daughters, the best part of me.
Unveiled each day is a new lease on life
garnished with giggles and tickles and smiles.
Hallowed has become the ground that is
tattered and stained and ridden with crumbs, for it
e'er measures each step, every tiny footprint in the sand.
Reverence floods my gaze each time I see
she and she, for both are my daughters, the best part of me.
Friday, June 28, 2013
June 28, 2013--Trying to find my balance
I've been trying to implement a fair number of changes in my life over the last few weeks and months. Working out on a regular basis, changing my eating habits, spending more time going places with the girls, making sure I set aside some time for me so I don't go insane. These are all things that I'm happy about, proud of myself for, things I want to continue doing. My issue right now is finding the time and the proper balance for all of these things.
For example, there for a while I was doing really well at keeping the house under control. I managed to keep everything fairly clean, none of the rooms were out of control, the laundry was always manageable. But it seemed that while that was all good and well, my kids were spending a lot to time in front of the TV and when I did have an hour or so to do whatever, I was so worn out that I didn't even think about working out but rather plopped onto the couch with a bag of popcorn and a soda and flipped on an episode of whatever TV show I happened to be in the middle of.
What I've noticed recently, however, is almost a complete 180 going on. I've been working out regularly, spending more time with my girls, heading to the park when it's not too hot and heading to the mall when it is, eating a cut-up cantaloupe and drinking water instead of popcorn and soda. While the kitchen used to be my nemesis, now it's what stays the cleanest for the most part--mostly because if I'm going to eat properly, I need a clean space to work in. But the rest of the house has kind of fallen to the wayside. The living room is constantly a mess, the floor is covered in dog hair (which used to never happen) and I can't find an empty laundry basket because they're all filled with clean folded clothes that I haven't bothered to put away.
So here's my thing: how do I find the balance in all of this? How do I find the time to get everything I want to get done done and not run myself completely ragged? What and how do I prioritize my day-to-day activities? Is it okay to let the housework slide a little bit to make way for better health? Is letting the kids watch The Land Before Time three times instead of two worth the extra hour's worth of housework I can get done?
How do I balance being a good mom, a good housewife and just me?
For example, there for a while I was doing really well at keeping the house under control. I managed to keep everything fairly clean, none of the rooms were out of control, the laundry was always manageable. But it seemed that while that was all good and well, my kids were spending a lot to time in front of the TV and when I did have an hour or so to do whatever, I was so worn out that I didn't even think about working out but rather plopped onto the couch with a bag of popcorn and a soda and flipped on an episode of whatever TV show I happened to be in the middle of.
What I've noticed recently, however, is almost a complete 180 going on. I've been working out regularly, spending more time with my girls, heading to the park when it's not too hot and heading to the mall when it is, eating a cut-up cantaloupe and drinking water instead of popcorn and soda. While the kitchen used to be my nemesis, now it's what stays the cleanest for the most part--mostly because if I'm going to eat properly, I need a clean space to work in. But the rest of the house has kind of fallen to the wayside. The living room is constantly a mess, the floor is covered in dog hair (which used to never happen) and I can't find an empty laundry basket because they're all filled with clean folded clothes that I haven't bothered to put away.
So here's my thing: how do I find the balance in all of this? How do I find the time to get everything I want to get done done and not run myself completely ragged? What and how do I prioritize my day-to-day activities? Is it okay to let the housework slide a little bit to make way for better health? Is letting the kids watch The Land Before Time three times instead of two worth the extra hour's worth of housework I can get done?
How do I balance being a good mom, a good housewife and just me?
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
June 26, 2013--Puke and Profanity
So, this story is one part hilarity and one part soapbox. I'll begin with the hilarity and leave it up to you to decide if you want to listen to my following rant.
The setting is our tiny, 4-door white Ford Escort, driving through Edwardsville/Glen Carbon on 159. Chaz and I are in the front seat, the girls in their respective car seats in the back. We have just finished dropping the dog off at the groomer's, getting breakfast, stopping at Walmart for the first time to replace my POS phone so that I can return to the 21st century and running some other errands. Chaz and I are now debating whether or not to stop at Walmart for a second time to pick up the handful of things we need while wasting time waiting on the dog.
As we're discussing our course of action, we hear that horrid and foreboding sound of a rumbling stomach followed by a slight cough/belch. I turn around and know by the look on my two year old's face that she is about to blow; it's a combination of panic and pain. And not two seconds later, she is covered in regurgitated strawberries, pancakes and water. She immediately starts crying because 1) she can't feel good--I mean, let's face it, who on this planet takes pleasure in vomiting?--and 2) she's dirty and wet. She hates being dirty and wet.
While attempting (and failing) to soothe her and reassure her that she's ok, I look at Chaz and say, "Well, guess that ends that discussion. Guess we're going to Walmart." He whips into the parking lot, which is currently under construction, finally finds a parking spot and we set to righting the crisis before us.
Now, me, being the genius mother that I am, have left the diaper bag at home, because I figured we weren't planning on being gone that long and my kids are pretty good. What could possibly go wrong, right? Please don't answer that. So, I have Chaz flip the trunk open and pull out an old blanket that I know has been there for months and return to the backseat to begin cleaning up my daughter. I wipe her hands and legs, then pull her out of the car seat and place her on the blacktop. I then proceed to strip her down to her panties and her socks because everything else is soaked in red puke.
In the meantime, Chaz has gotten out of the car and come around to the passenger side, where my daughter and I are currently standing and he takes over wiping away the last remaining dredges of half-digested food while I turn to the task of cleaning out the car seat. I have stripped off the seat cover, wiped it off and handed it to Chaz to throw into the trunk and am now turning to put the actual seat back into the car. I hear her say something along the lines of "my clothes are icky, Daddy," and he assures her that yes, they are indeed dirty. And then, as I'm leaning into the backseat to replace the car seat, my daughter, quite succinctly and emphatically states,
The setting is our tiny, 4-door white Ford Escort, driving through Edwardsville/Glen Carbon on 159. Chaz and I are in the front seat, the girls in their respective car seats in the back. We have just finished dropping the dog off at the groomer's, getting breakfast, stopping at Walmart for the first time to replace my POS phone so that I can return to the 21st century and running some other errands. Chaz and I are now debating whether or not to stop at Walmart for a second time to pick up the handful of things we need while wasting time waiting on the dog.
As we're discussing our course of action, we hear that horrid and foreboding sound of a rumbling stomach followed by a slight cough/belch. I turn around and know by the look on my two year old's face that she is about to blow; it's a combination of panic and pain. And not two seconds later, she is covered in regurgitated strawberries, pancakes and water. She immediately starts crying because 1) she can't feel good--I mean, let's face it, who on this planet takes pleasure in vomiting?--and 2) she's dirty and wet. She hates being dirty and wet.
While attempting (and failing) to soothe her and reassure her that she's ok, I look at Chaz and say, "Well, guess that ends that discussion. Guess we're going to Walmart." He whips into the parking lot, which is currently under construction, finally finds a parking spot and we set to righting the crisis before us.
Now, me, being the genius mother that I am, have left the diaper bag at home, because I figured we weren't planning on being gone that long and my kids are pretty good. What could possibly go wrong, right? Please don't answer that. So, I have Chaz flip the trunk open and pull out an old blanket that I know has been there for months and return to the backseat to begin cleaning up my daughter. I wipe her hands and legs, then pull her out of the car seat and place her on the blacktop. I then proceed to strip her down to her panties and her socks because everything else is soaked in red puke.
In the meantime, Chaz has gotten out of the car and come around to the passenger side, where my daughter and I are currently standing and he takes over wiping away the last remaining dredges of half-digested food while I turn to the task of cleaning out the car seat. I have stripped off the seat cover, wiped it off and handed it to Chaz to throw into the trunk and am now turning to put the actual seat back into the car. I hear her say something along the lines of "my clothes are icky, Daddy," and he assures her that yes, they are indeed dirty. And then, as I'm leaning into the backseat to replace the car seat, my daughter, quite succinctly and emphatically states,
"Son of a b!tch!"
There was a split second of shocked silence before my husband and I both burst into hysterical laughter. I am literally leaning on the door frame of the car, trying to hold myself up while I also attempt to contain the laughter that is not about to be stopped and when I finally am able to glance over at Chaz, he is doubled over in the parking lot, laughing his a$$ off.
Now, before the lectures start about toddlers being tape recorders and mommies and daddies needing to watch what they say around their children (which is true, I'm not denying) let me say that my two year old has heard just about every curse word there is to hear. I'm not proud of that fact, it just simply is. My husband is a former Marine and has never really curbed his cursing habit. Despite her hearing these words, she has never repeated any of them. I don't know if she just has some sort of sixth sense about it or what, but it's like she instinctually knows not to say them.
This is the first time that she has used any type of profanity. She used it in context and in my own humble opinion, she used it appropriately for the situation. If I'd had to strip down to my underwear in a public parking lot because I'd just blown chunks all over my outfit, I'd probably say a lot worse. Just sayin'. Anyway, the point is, it was just too hilarious for the moment. I about died laughing.
Don't lie--whether you approve or not, you're probably laughing too.
After this little incident, we managed to get both of the girls into a shopping cart and headed into the store. And this is where the soapbox half of my post is going to begin. You have been warned.
First let me say that the Walmart is currently undergoing an expansion, so nothing is where it's supposed to be and nothing is where it has been for the past God knows how many years. Used to be, you walked into this Walmart and it was a straight shot to the back of the store for baby stuff. You literally walked in the door and kept walking until you hit baby clothes. No turns, no treasure hunts, there is less than a minute. But no. Not today.
Today, as I'm walking through Walmart with my (for all intents and purposes) naked toddler, the baby stuff has been moved over halfway across the store, smack-dab in the middle of everything. The doors have also been moved so every person that has just checked out now has to walk past us on their way out of the store as we make our way in. So, here we are, walking through Walmart, with a two year old in panties and Hello Kitty socks.
We got our fair share of odd looks, let me tell you.
Now, I expected this, don't get me wrong. You see a naked baby, you tend to wonder for just a moment what's going on. We got the quick glances, we got the sideways glances, we got the double-takes and the few slightly uncomfortable smiles. You know the ones--those, "oh, look at the cute baby, holy cow, she's naked, that's slightly awkward" smiles.
Those were all mildly irritating and more than understandable. I grinned and bore it and simply walked faster towards the baby clothing. But then there was the one. The one person who had to go and really piss me off.
This woman was middle-aged, probably late forties or early fifties. Chances are, she probably had kids of her own that were more than likely grown. Maybe she's got a grandkid or two, who knows? But she is leaving the store as we are walking in and she is starting at my naked toddler like she is some sort of white trash hillbilly that just got done dumpster diving after being released from prison. I mean, seriously, I cannot begin to put into words the contempt, disgust and disdain on this woman's face. And we're not talking just a quick glance and then hurriedly looking away. Oh, no. We're talking an incredibly rude stare with the slight grimace of the mouth that indicates that she's worried she's going to contract HIV if she gets within three feet of this child that is wearing no clothes. The looks she gave us was even worse. That extremely distinct sneer with the nose in the air.
When she did finally manage to stop leering at my child and deign to make eye contact with me, I hesitated not a moment before saying, rather forcefully, "She puked all over herself in the car. Her clothes are covered in vomit; that's why she's naked." I got no response other than a slight huff (I didn't really expect one) before she hurried past to continue on with her higher-than-thou judgmental day.
And now, I would just like to ask a simple question: was I wrong for taking my child into the store in only her panties and socks? I will take responsibility and say that if I had been a truly prepared mother, I would have had the diaper bag with me with an extra set of clothes in it for both girls, just in case something like this happened. As it was, I didn't, so I took my daughter into the store, found her an outfit that she liked, ripped the tags off and dressed her, and then paid for the clothes at the checkout afterwards.
Would I have been a better mother if I had dragged her into the store still dressed, terribly upset and crying hysterically while dripping vomit-covered strawberries all over the floor? Would that have gained me any less disgust or judgment from the people walking by?
Kids have accidents. They throw up when you least expect it, they pee their pants accidentally, they spill food and trip in the mud. As parents, we are never going to be completely prepared for each and every little possibility that could come about. It never fails that if you pack one clean outfit for your child, they'll have two accidents. Or if you pack diapers for one, you'll forget them for the other. Whatever the case may be, there is always going to be something that could potentially happen to screw up your day.
As parents, the best thing we can do is make the best out of a crappy situation and do whatever needs to be done to rectify it. Today, the best way I could rectify the situation was to soothe my daughter. The best way to soothe my daughter was to take her dirty clothes off of her and clean her up. That is what got her to stop crying, that is what got her to take a few deep breaths and calm down. After stripping her down, it seemed the best way to rectify her nakedness was to go into the store and buy her a new outfit.
God forbid someone's sense of modesty and propriety was offended by my two-year-old's nudity. Not to be petty or anything, but I tend to be much more offended by the twelve or thirteen year old wearing a push-up bra with a low-cut shirt and shorts that barely cover her ass cheeks or the 350lb woman wearing clothes that are three sizes too small and half her body is rolling over her waistband like fresh sausage. I mean, seriously, of all the inappropriate things that can be seen today, you're going to freak out over a two year old who's going to be "naked" for all of two minutes while her parents try to find her some clothes that aren't drenched in putrid vomit?
Get over yourself and maybe consider the possibility that there may be a perfectly logical explanation for why a toddler has a few too less clothes on in the middle of the super store. An explanation other than her parents are lazy, good-for-nothing jacka$$es who don't care.
And there ends my soapbox rant.
Have a great day!
Get over yourself and maybe consider the possibility that there may be a perfectly logical explanation for why a toddler has a few too less clothes on in the middle of the super store. An explanation other than her parents are lazy, good-for-nothing jacka$$es who don't care.
And there ends my soapbox rant.
Have a great day!
Monday, June 24, 2013
June 24, 2013--Blessed
The circumstances for the girls' sabbatical into Missouri were not ideal but nevertheless, as a stay-at-home mom, I was not heartbroken over the fact that I was going to have a few days without them. Whenever the time comes around that they're going to spend some time with Grandma & Grandpa or Uncle Rich & Aunt Tammy, I look forward to their departure with maybe just a smidgen too much anticipation. This time was no different. Perhaps I should be ashamed to say so, but I'm not. It didn't matter that they were going away so that I could spend some time helping my parents get some much needed things done around their home due to my father's illness; at least I knew that when I finished cleaning something, it would stay that way for more than five minutes.
What originally started out as a tentative "few days" trip ended up being a ten-day-long break from my kids. I don't think they've ever been gone that long before. We've done a week, more than once, and while part of me is jonesing for my baby girls by the end of that seven days, the other part of me is saying, "Is it over already?" Ten days, however....well, apparently, it's a helluva LOT longer than seven.
There was no, "Wow, I can't believe it's over already," this time. Nope. It was strictly, "I want my babies back and I want them NOW!" The four hour drive to my parents-in-laws' home seemed to take forever. Even our near scrape with death didn't liven up the trip too much. Once we hit the sign that said "Brookfield, 35" I found myself checking the clock every two minutes and wondering if we could drive 35 miles in 15 minutes.
When we finally, finally, pulled into the driveway, Chaz barely had the car in park before I was out my door. We both hastily agreed that we weren't going to bother with unloading the car at that point and raced into the house just as fast as our feet would carry us.
Stepping into the living room, I stopped and drank in the sight of my two beautiful daughters. They were both sitting on the floor watching 101 Dalmations. Daphnie saw me first. She turned and looked up and after just a brief second, her eyes lit up, her mouth broke into a huge, open-mouthed grin and she giggled. She then reached her arms up to me in a silent plea to come pick her up. Needless to say, I acquiesced.
It was that which got Aubrey's attention. Jumping up, she yelled "Mommy!" and came over to wrap her arms around my leg. Almost as quickly she leaned back, looked up at me and said, "Is Daddy at work?" I looked over at Chaz, who had stayed at the back of the room and we shared a grin. I told Aubrey that no, Daddy wasn't at work. She then asked, "Where is he?" and then began to look from side to side, slowly pivoting towards the back of the room. And then she saw him and yelled "Daddy!" and raced to him. Seeing as his arms were still empty, he swung her into the air and then gave her a huge hug.
It was quite the reception.
Since we got home last night the girls have been very well behaved, a bit more so than usual. They've also been clingy, but not in that "bad" way where you know they don't feel good or they're tired and a bit whiney. They just haven't left my side all day. They split their time between Chaz and me until he left for work but since he's been gone, they've pretty much been glued to my side. Daphnie wants to sit in my lap and Aubrey wants to sit right next to me and we've spent the day together, watching The Lion King and How to Train Your Dragon and playing and reading. I haven't gotten this many hugs from my girls maybe ever.
I must admit, it's quite the feeling. I have so much enjoyed just getting to hold them and talk to them and listen to Daphnie mimic every word that comes out of my mouth. It hasn't been irritating at all today that they haven't given me a moment's peace. I got up this morning with the intention of getting a bunch of stuff done around the house. It didn't take much for me to give up on that idea and just enjoy my time with my babies. The housework will be there tomorrow.
I knew I was missing my girls, but I don't think I realized just how much I missed them until I got them back. Even the things that drive me a little crazy, like Aubrey waiting until I've just sat down and gotten comfortable in the hole we call a couch before telling me she has to go potty. It felt so good to just be a mom today and to not let any of the little things that a one and three-year-old are bound to do drive me up the wall. It was great to just feel good and happy and not stress about the dishes sitting in the sink or the dog hair that's covering the carpet or the girls' suitcase which still hasn't been unpacked. It was great to really focus on and enjoy and truly appreciate every hug and kiss and "I love you."
I think sometimes I take them for granted, even though I do try really hard not to. I know that I am extremely blessed to have the children I do and to be able to stay home and simply be their mom. I always try to remind myself that not every mom has that luxury and therefore I should be even more thankful. I try hard not to forget that, but I think sometimes I do anyway. Today I was reminded again of how blessed I truly am and I thank God that he has given me this wonderful life, surrounded by the wonderful people he has put in it for me.
My husband, who puts up with me and loves me for me and supports me with no questions asked.
My girls, who love me unconditionally and remind me that there are more important things, like dragons and dinosaurs, than laundry and dirty dishes.
My mother and father, who give me a daily example of marriage, of love conquering any struggle that may arise. I've reached a new level of appreciation for them this past week and I thank God that they are both still here and pray that they continue to be.
My other mother and father (in-law) who watched the girls with no hesitation when I asked them. They are amazing people with amazing hearts and their love is boundless. I cannot put into words how much I have learned to care for and love them, how much I appreciate them, and how thankful I am that God put them into my life.
My sisters, one of which took the girls at the drop of a hat with no questions asked and the other who like me, has struggled and is now overcoming. You both are inspirations to me.
My best friend, who when I say I'm hormonal and a little grouchy because I'm on my first period in over a year says, "I've got you covered, I'll bring home chocolate."
Everyone else, friends, relations and acquaintances, who have sent up prayers and offered support.
I love you all.
What originally started out as a tentative "few days" trip ended up being a ten-day-long break from my kids. I don't think they've ever been gone that long before. We've done a week, more than once, and while part of me is jonesing for my baby girls by the end of that seven days, the other part of me is saying, "Is it over already?" Ten days, however....well, apparently, it's a helluva LOT longer than seven.
There was no, "Wow, I can't believe it's over already," this time. Nope. It was strictly, "I want my babies back and I want them NOW!" The four hour drive to my parents-in-laws' home seemed to take forever. Even our near scrape with death didn't liven up the trip too much. Once we hit the sign that said "Brookfield, 35" I found myself checking the clock every two minutes and wondering if we could drive 35 miles in 15 minutes.
When we finally, finally, pulled into the driveway, Chaz barely had the car in park before I was out my door. We both hastily agreed that we weren't going to bother with unloading the car at that point and raced into the house just as fast as our feet would carry us.
Stepping into the living room, I stopped and drank in the sight of my two beautiful daughters. They were both sitting on the floor watching 101 Dalmations. Daphnie saw me first. She turned and looked up and after just a brief second, her eyes lit up, her mouth broke into a huge, open-mouthed grin and she giggled. She then reached her arms up to me in a silent plea to come pick her up. Needless to say, I acquiesced.
It was that which got Aubrey's attention. Jumping up, she yelled "Mommy!" and came over to wrap her arms around my leg. Almost as quickly she leaned back, looked up at me and said, "Is Daddy at work?" I looked over at Chaz, who had stayed at the back of the room and we shared a grin. I told Aubrey that no, Daddy wasn't at work. She then asked, "Where is he?" and then began to look from side to side, slowly pivoting towards the back of the room. And then she saw him and yelled "Daddy!" and raced to him. Seeing as his arms were still empty, he swung her into the air and then gave her a huge hug.
It was quite the reception.
Since we got home last night the girls have been very well behaved, a bit more so than usual. They've also been clingy, but not in that "bad" way where you know they don't feel good or they're tired and a bit whiney. They just haven't left my side all day. They split their time between Chaz and me until he left for work but since he's been gone, they've pretty much been glued to my side. Daphnie wants to sit in my lap and Aubrey wants to sit right next to me and we've spent the day together, watching The Lion King and How to Train Your Dragon and playing and reading. I haven't gotten this many hugs from my girls maybe ever.
I must admit, it's quite the feeling. I have so much enjoyed just getting to hold them and talk to them and listen to Daphnie mimic every word that comes out of my mouth. It hasn't been irritating at all today that they haven't given me a moment's peace. I got up this morning with the intention of getting a bunch of stuff done around the house. It didn't take much for me to give up on that idea and just enjoy my time with my babies. The housework will be there tomorrow.
I knew I was missing my girls, but I don't think I realized just how much I missed them until I got them back. Even the things that drive me a little crazy, like Aubrey waiting until I've just sat down and gotten comfortable in the hole we call a couch before telling me she has to go potty. It felt so good to just be a mom today and to not let any of the little things that a one and three-year-old are bound to do drive me up the wall. It was great to just feel good and happy and not stress about the dishes sitting in the sink or the dog hair that's covering the carpet or the girls' suitcase which still hasn't been unpacked. It was great to really focus on and enjoy and truly appreciate every hug and kiss and "I love you."
I think sometimes I take them for granted, even though I do try really hard not to. I know that I am extremely blessed to have the children I do and to be able to stay home and simply be their mom. I always try to remind myself that not every mom has that luxury and therefore I should be even more thankful. I try hard not to forget that, but I think sometimes I do anyway. Today I was reminded again of how blessed I truly am and I thank God that he has given me this wonderful life, surrounded by the wonderful people he has put in it for me.
My husband, who puts up with me and loves me for me and supports me with no questions asked.
My girls, who love me unconditionally and remind me that there are more important things, like dragons and dinosaurs, than laundry and dirty dishes.
My mother and father, who give me a daily example of marriage, of love conquering any struggle that may arise. I've reached a new level of appreciation for them this past week and I thank God that they are both still here and pray that they continue to be.
My other mother and father (in-law) who watched the girls with no hesitation when I asked them. They are amazing people with amazing hearts and their love is boundless. I cannot put into words how much I have learned to care for and love them, how much I appreciate them, and how thankful I am that God put them into my life.
My sisters, one of which took the girls at the drop of a hat with no questions asked and the other who like me, has struggled and is now overcoming. You both are inspirations to me.
My best friend, who when I say I'm hormonal and a little grouchy because I'm on my first period in over a year says, "I've got you covered, I'll bring home chocolate."
Everyone else, friends, relations and acquaintances, who have sent up prayers and offered support.
I love you all.
Friday, June 14, 2013
June 14, 2013--Is honesty the best policy?
Over the past few months, I've tried to make some pretty significant changes in my life. I've changed my outlook on a number of viewpoints, ranging from politics to homosexuality to religion. I've started the journey to better health. I've reached out to people I thought I might never speak to again. I've come to terms with aspects of my personality and character, admitted that I am flawed and taken steps to adjust those aspects as needed.
However, there is one aspect of myself that I still struggle with and for the life of me, I can't decide which side of the line I should fall on.
Growing up, I took on the role of a people-pleaser. Of a peacekeeper. I acted in the ways that were expected of me. I met the expectations of those around me. Of my parents. My teachers. My friends. I tended to apologize for things, even when I felt I was not in the wrong, because I couldn't abide being at odds with people. I kept my true feelings and opinions buried regarding numerous situations, numerous people, because I did not want to make waves. I coated truths with silver linings, trying to soften blows to the people I cared most about; the people I thought cared the most about me.
I left for college with that same mentality and for a long time, I made the effort to stay in contact with those "best" friends I had from high school. I didn't want to succumb to the reality that constantly demonstrates that people grow apart. That absence, in fact, does not make the heart grow fonder. And eventually, I became jaded and then cynical, as I realized that despite all the effort I was making, things had changed.
I quit calling my so-called "friends," quit emailing and texting, because I figured, if they really cared about me, then it was their turn to make an effort. If they wanted to stay friends, if they wanted to talk and hang out, then they would get a hold of me. And if they didn't make the effort, then apparently, they didn't care about me as much as they claimed to. In making that decision, a lot of bonds were severed and I eventually came to terms with my own perspective on reality: that I had been used, that I was simply convenient, and that distance was an easy excuse to give up on me.
Since then, and even more so since meeting and marrying my husband, I have focused more on who I am, who I want to be, rather than trying desperately to meet the needs and expectations of those around me. I have clung to the mantra that people should love me for who and how I am and if they are only willing to like/love/care about me if I change to fit into their little box of perception of me, then they're not worth my time. That I am better than that.
I like to think that I'm justified in that way of thinking. I have made a huge effort (for the most part) over the past few years to truly accept people for who they are, even if their lifestyles, sexual preferences, religious beliefs, political beliefs, etc, don't match up with my own. I'm not saying I'm not flawed and haven't made bad judgement calls, because I have, but I really try hard to do that for others. And I feel that they are completely justified in believing that they deserve to be accepted for who they are.
Part of who I am, who I have become, is honest. Especially with those who are close to me, friends and family. In my opinion, if we are close enough friends or family members to discuss political beliefs, ideas about parenting, sex lives, dreams and hopes and wishes--if we can talk about all these things--then we should be able to be honest about these things. We should be able to disagree about things without fighting about them. We should be able to have different opinions regarding whatever the case may be and still speak about it like adults.
Now, I'm not saying that a fair amount of irritation and annoyance isn't allowed, because it is. When a good friend recently gave his opinion on whether or not he thought our course of treatment for Daphnie's delay was necessary or not, at that moment I took it personally and I was upset by it. However, it did not cause a never-ending feud or long-term feelings of ill will. He stated his opinion on something, I disagreed with it, I had an emotional reaction to it and we moved on.
The point is, he was honest about how he felt about something, and I would rather my friends tell me straight-out if they think something I'm doing is right or wrong and give me the chance to respond openly and honestly about it in turn. My mother-in-law on many occasions has questioned some thing or another that I'm doing with my daughters. She is allowed to do that because her concern is for my children and I appreciate that. She makes sure to state her opinion or ask her question in a way that lets me respond in an adult way. She is never accusatory, only curious. And for the most part, I am able to give her a logical reason for why I'm doing something a certain way and while she may still not agree with it, she is able to accept it and know that at least I've thought about why I'm doing something a certain way.
What I'm struggling with now is whether or not my policy of being open and honest about things is actually acceptable and whether or not my ferocious hold on this policy is costing me people. And if that cost is worth it.
I lost someone I counted as a very good friend a few years ago because I was honest with her about how I felt about her actions at the time. She didn't like what I had to say and we haven't spoken since. In the same vein, I feel as if I have similar situations going on now and I'm trying to figure out whether it is worth it to speak my mind about things or if I should remain silent and say all the "right" things and do and say what is expected in order to keep everybody happy.
I expect people to be honest with me. I would rather know if someone is unhappy with me or my actions so that I can either explain myself or my actions or ultimately make changes to myself and my actions if necessary. Because I expect this, I suppose I expect my friends and family to feel the same way. But apparently, this isn't how a lot of people feel. Apparently, a lot of people don't care to hear what you have to say if what you have to say is in any kind of opposition to what they're currently thinking/doing/acting/etc.
So, is it better to be honest with people and suffer the consequences as they come while being true to your own feelings and sense of self? Or is it better to say and do what's expected of you by others in order to keep those close to you happy and content, even if it goes against what your inner self is telling you?
I honestly want to know, because so far, I can't seem to win either way. I don't want to isolate myself for the sake of principles, necessarily, yet at the same time, I don't want to present a fake and dishonest facade to the people I care about simply because that's the face that's easiest for them to see and accept. And I can't seem to find a middle ground anywhere.
If you have thoughts or input, I invite them. And even if I don't necessarily like or agree with what you've said, I will still be grateful that you said it and I will take it into consideration. If I've learned anything in the three and a half years I've been married, it's that sometimes you have to take a step back and consider that what someone is saying might make sense, even if it goes against everything you've believed up until this point. Sometimes, you do have to change your perspective.
June 14, 2013--A Hard Run
We've had a hard run, you and I.
Hovering somewhere between what's expected and what's honest.
It doesn't suit us.
For our convictions are strong and our opinions sure,
yet they constantly collide.
I am not who I was
and I think now that I never truly knew you.
You, who I worshiped
and idolized
and aspired to be.
But all I can be is me.
I think you might resent me.
Do I resent you?
I think perhaps I do.
What is it that drives us to such dividing points?
Extremes as far as east from west
and the chasm between limitless?
Is it an instinctual need?
To be more, to be best?
Or do we each in our insecurity
give in to the temptation
of tearing down the other's core stability?
We fight a silent war
as our truths remain behind closed lips
at the cost of preserving peace.
Perhaps we should cease.
Yet life is simply our stage
and we each have a role to play.
And God knows we both crave the spotlight,
for we are each a leading lady.
We've had a hard run, you and I,
and I long for rest.
Yet the ending remains unwritten.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013--Tribute
Yesterday was Memorial Day, as I'm sure most of you well know. I didn't get my status of thanks posted like so many of my friends did. I would like to take a moment to say a few words now.
Obviously, I would like to offer up my thanks to the numerous men and women who have made and are still making the choice to serve in our military and give up their families, their day-to-day freedom, and their lives to serve and protect this country. Even more so I thank the ones who may not necessarily agree with the decisions of the higher commands, who do not agree with what the government has decreed, but they serve anyway because they know that as bad as it might be, serving is still "better" than not serving.
A friend of mine posted a quote from a friend of his yesterday on Facebook. The quote was by a person who had previously served in the military and was not happy about his experience. He spoke of how every last one of his personal morals were broken while he served, that he lost all sense of who he was and what he actually believed in.
Obviously, I would like to offer up my thanks to the numerous men and women who have made and are still making the choice to serve in our military and give up their families, their day-to-day freedom, and their lives to serve and protect this country. Even more so I thank the ones who may not necessarily agree with the decisions of the higher commands, who do not agree with what the government has decreed, but they serve anyway because they know that as bad as it might be, serving is still "better" than not serving.
A friend of mine posted a quote from a friend of his yesterday on Facebook. The quote was by a person who had previously served in the military and was not happy about his experience. He spoke of how every last one of his personal morals were broken while he served, that he lost all sense of who he was and what he actually believed in.
"...I violated every last bit of my personal moral code during my time in the army and yet it's the thing I am the most celebrated for. I am a black man in America. My grandmother was a Black Panther. She fought for equality and I treated so many people with a lack of humanity I can never forgive myself.
"It was the winter after 9/11 and everyone was angry. I was told I was doing the right thing by everyone I knew and respected. They told me I was going over there to defend my loved ones. They told me I was going to bring freedom to people who wanted it. They told me I was doing it for God.
"For my part in this, I am so sorry. I recognize that I have contributed to the suffering of so many people and everyday I try to live my life in a way that makes up for all the wrong I've done, but it gets very hard sometimes."
"It was the winter after 9/11 and everyone was angry. I was told I was doing the right thing by everyone I knew and respected. They told me I was going over there to defend my loved ones. They told me I was going to bring freedom to people who wanted it. They told me I was doing it for God.
"For my part in this, I am so sorry. I recognize that I have contributed to the suffering of so many people and everyday I try to live my life in a way that makes up for all the wrong I've done, but it gets very hard sometimes."
I hate that there are soldiers out there who feel this way. Let me rephrase that: I don't hate that they feel that way, I hate that they have a reason to feel this way. I know they're out there. And they are probably more than they are few.
I'm not a soldier so I can only speak from the experience I have from talking to friends and family members who have served. My own husband served in the Marine Corps during the time of 9/11 and he has suffered from PTSD in more ways than I'm sure he's even aware. A good friend of my younger brother (and of mine) suffered pretty badly after returning from his tours as well. But I know that they have gone through stages of depression, trauma recall, psychological stress. And getting them to talk about it can be like pulling teeth oftentimes.
PTSD is rampant; it has been for decades. It's gone by many different names and it has been viewed as a weakness, something that doesn't get talked about. But we as civilians have absolutely NO IDEA what the men and women who have served, who are still serving, have gone through and are going through. My great-uncle served in 'Nam and he doesn't talk about it. He won't talk about the friends he watched be blown to bits out of the sky--the only reason I know about it is through the accounts of other family members. And I have watched numerous documentaries showing war veterans of WWII and they are very hesitant to give detailed accounts of what happened to them.
The friend who posted the above quote stated that he because of this, he doesn't look at soldiers and feel proud of them; instead he thinks, "you poor bastard." I don't know if he equates that reaction to pity, but that's how I take it.
While I understand where he's coming from and how he has reached that conclusion, I cannot do the same. Our soldiers do not need our pity. They need our support. Whether we agree with whatever our military is doing at the time or not, we have to support them. We don't have to support the government and the decisions it's made. But we do have to support the individual men and women who have no say in the matter. And when I say support, I don't mean a bunch of "thank you" posts on Memorial Day. Yes, the outward show of thankfulness on a holiday is nice and it lets the people serving that we know personally know that they are thought of and in many cases prayed for.
But these men and women, these husbands and wives and fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers and close friends--many of them do come back damaged, even if they don't verbally acknowledge it. They come back traumatized and stressed and messed up, inside and out. While losing a limb is treated medically and dealt with accordingly, losing one's sense of humanity isn't always addressed. Soldiers hesitate to reach out for help because they are worried about being labeled as weak or crazy. They're NOT weak. They're NOT crazy. They have been pushed to limits they never knew they had, they have been asked to do things for the "greater good"--and those things don't always fit into their own personal sense of what's "right" or "fair" or "okay." For the good of their country, for the good of their families, for the advancement of freedom. It's not always that cut and dry. The reasoning behind war isn't always "good" or "right" or "best." Mankind is flawed and so are their decisions. Unfortunately, the masses are often the ones most affected by the decisions made by the few. And that is often the case with our soldiers.
They need our support. There needs to be acknowledgement of PTSD and the stigma attached to it needs to be done away with. The suffering of trauma does not mean a man or woman is now unfit to serve or is no longer qualified to do his or her job. With proper treatment, with proper understanding, with proper acknowledgement, they can begin to heal. But only if they are given the option and the ability to heal. And that is only going to happen with education. That is only going to come with those of us who have loved ones serving standing up and demanding better treatment. That is only going to come when we tell the ones we love that they are perfectly justified in however they might feel regarding what they've done and that we will do whatever it is that they need to deal with it.
Yes, I want to thank all those who have served and who are currently serving in our military. I want to thank them for making it possible for me to live safely at home in the company of my family. I want to thank them for the sacrifices they make every day so that I don't have to make those same sacrifices. I want to thank them for deciding to go overseas, to shoot bullets and to place themselves in front of bullets because someone other than them thinks it's the best solution. Seeing only the surface of what they suffer, knowing that the damage can and usually does go so much deeper makes my thanks go so much deeper.
And I do feel pride in them--in knowing that they are better people than me, that they are willing to make a decision that I couldn't.
There is a darker side to this part of our country that so many of us never see or realize. So when you offer your thanks to these men and women who have given so much of themselves, who have often sacrificed the better parts of their souls, of their humanity, please take a moment to really consider what it is you're thanking them for.
Be involved, be educated. Check in with your local VA and see if there's anything you can do to help. My mother and father-in-law go at least once a month to the VA's they can make it to and do mini-concerts. They sing and play and offer up concrete proof of their thanks. They give back.
We all tend to "give back" when tragedies such as Moore, OK happen, as it did so recently. But these men and women suffer tragedies, no matter how small, every single day. They need us to give back every single day. They need to know that they will be accepted despite the horrible things they may have done in the line of duty. For their country. For us.
To my military--you have my thanks. It runs deep. The following is dedicated to you:
Stars and Stripes
Have people really forgotten? Or do they just not care?
Has society really evolved into an entity satiated by the by the lure of the material,
by lust and instant gratification?
They scream about speech and rant about religion and demand the retention of rights,
yet how conveniently they forget....
A finger pricked by Ross’s spike stains the stripes red--stripes shredded by shrapnel and ripped by rifles.
And when the dark backed down to the dawn of another day the blazing sun revealed the blood-soaked snow and the horizon rang with the wails of war.
And when the sun retreated, the stars circled ‘round in the twilight leading thousands to a destiny of death, a price paid.
Given that price, how dare they?
Flooded in a torrential downpour, limp and lifeless, forgotten by the selfish need to dodge the drops that may dampen their Dolce.
Razed to naught but dust as maniacal laughter rings through the haze of smouldering smoke, the ashes carried away by an unnoticed wind.
Covered heads line the streets as the anthem goes unheard.
Respect, like chivalry, is dead.
They say the stars shine bright in a desert sky.
And the blood of our brothers still stains stripes in the sand.
Who cares?
After all, it’s just a flag.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013--Love yourself, ladies!
In high school I was an fairly active person. I played volleyball my freshman year. I was involved in show choir all four years, which involved a fair amount of dancing and movement. My mom and I went out and walked/ran the local park as much as the weather allowed. I ate my fair share of ice cream and candy bars but I also ate a lot of fruits and vegetables too. I was healthy.
Over the past few years, my focus has shifted away from being healthy and back to being thin. Now, I am never going to be "skinny." I'm never going to fit into a size 6 or 8 pant or wear a medium shirt (my bust wouldn't allow that even if I were skinny). But I don't have the body frame that allows for being that small. If I can get back down to a size 12 pant (what I wore in high school) that would mean that I was in good enough shape to do the activities I was doing then. Walking and running multiple miles three to five times a week. Not being completely winded after a few minutes of cardio. Being able to do a weight routine and the next day not feeling like I'm going to fall apart. It would mean that I was back to being healthy.
Having two daughters has really brought my focus back to being healthy and reminded me of how important it is that I have a good body image and a good self-image. Because if I can't convince myself that I'm beautiful, if I don't believe that I'm beautiful, how on earth am I going to convince my daughters that they are beautiful when everything else in this world is telling them they're not good enough? I don't want my daughters to go through what I went through in high school. I don't want them doubting themselves. I don't want them believing that they're not good enough, not pretty enough, not "skinny" enough. I don't want them to even consider, let alone succumb to a bout of bulimia, like I did. Not eating and puking up what you do is NOT ok. I don't ever want them to get there.
Advertising, marketing, media. For the longest time, I've considered them the enemies. Because they flaunt these tiny women, this minute minority of women who do not represent the masses, and convince us all that this is what we should strive for. Don't get me wrong--I have no issues with the actual women who are in these ads--they are beautiful and they've done what they've had to do to keep themselves looking like that. I have a healthy respect for "skinny" people--especially the ones who are healthy and skinny.
But most of us don't look like that. And that's why I'm seriously considering turning to Dove for all of my hygienic needs. Shampoo, body wash, etc. Because, finally, finally, a company has stood up and said "Damn what people might say--we are going to stand up for the masses. We are not going to be exclusionary, but we are going to support all women in whatever walk of life they may be traversing. We are going to stand up for health, not for a number on a scale, and we are going to encourage women to love themselves."
For so long now I have been so focused on the fact that I'm 70 pounds overweight and how much I hate myself for it. And I don't know about others, but in my case, my hatred of myself does not encourage me to get up and do something about it. It's just so much easier to wallow in my self-hatred by diving into a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
However, there are so many more positive things about myself to focus on. I'm a mother, and according to the people around me, a pretty good one. I've developed a sense of patience that I never had. Through help and encouragement from my husband I've learned to be less judgmental and more accepting. In a month I put nearly 35,000 words on paper and am well on my way to writing a novel that I'm proud of--a dream I've had since I was very young. I cross-stitch well. I'm proud of the house I have, of how I've learned to manage it and the improvements I want to make to it. And thinking of all these things makes me proud of the person I'm becoming and I want my outside to reflect my inside. I want to look good because for the first time in I don't know how long, I feel good--about myself. Not just about my girls or the fact that my house is clean. I feel good about me. And therein lies my motivation.
^^This is who I want to be. This is how I want to feel.^^
Thank you, Dove, for standing up for women of all shapes and sizes. Thank you for standing up for my girls, and giving them something to strive for. Thank you for standing up for me, for making me finally see that I am good enough, that I am beautiful enough, and that despite all that, I can be better. I can be better for myself, for my daughters, for my sisters, blood or no. I can be a better wife and a better mother. I can finally learn to love myself in a way I have never done at any point in my life. Thank you.
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