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.

"...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."

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.

May 16, 2013--Love yourself, ladies!

Those of you who know me personally probably know that I've been struggling with my weight for a while now.  I've had body image issues all my life, thinking all through high school that I was fat and unattractive.  I wore jeans and baggy t-shirts or hoodies all the time, because at the time I thought it was better to hide my body rather than try to show it off.

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.

May 14, 2013--The fight starts here.

I try really hard to not go on major rants in my blogging.  I take pride in the fact that I make a conscious effort to keep my writing clean, logical and as unoffensive as possible.

That being said, I feel the need to go on a (*tiny*) rant.

Before I start, please feel free to read this article.  It will give you something to reference as I proceed to go a little bat-shit crazy.

Mike Jeffries, CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch, is a pompous ass.  (And he's ugly to boot, but that's besides the point.)  He also has an extremely skewed viewpoint on what makes people "cool."

Statement #1: "According to this popular teen clothing retailer, fat chicks will just never be part of the 'in' crowd."
   
     **Issue #1: What constitutes a "fat chick?"  According to Abercrombie and Fitch, any woman who wears anything above a size 10.  So, the following women could either just barely, or not at all, wear clothes from this retailer:

Marilyn Monroe--size 12

Cindy Crawford--size 10

Kate Winslet--size 10/12

Jessica Simpson--size 10/12 (pre-pregnancy); she's kept some of her curves since then, and just let me say how much I admire her for having the nerve and the self-confidence to shoot that magazine cover.

Beyonce--size 10 (pre-pregnancy)

Jennifer Lopez--size 10

Adele--size 18/20

     **Issue #2: What constitutes the "in" crowd?  Last time I checked, all of the women above were beautiful, successful and rich people.  I'm pretty sure they would all be considered "in."  Marilyn Monroe is remembered as being the most famous "sex icon" in history.  She's considered one of the most beautiful women of all time.  Cindy Crawford is likewise considered one of the most successful models of all time.  Jessica Simpson is an actress, singer and fashion designer and I couldn't put a number to the amount of adolescent boys' wet dreams she's shown up in.  The same can be said of J-Lo.  And every aspiring female singer today at some point wishes they could be Adele.  She has sold millions upon millions of albums and has won a Grammy.  She's also not ashamed of her weight.  She has no reason to be.  

Alright, so maybe Mr. Jeffries didn't have the rich and famous in mind when he decided that "fat chicks" were not welcome in his store.  In an interview he stated that "in every school there are the cool and popular kids and then there are the not-so-cool kids."  So we're talking high school, here.  Okay, fine.  

Jacob Becerra, Lauren Calbreath, Camille Carpenter, Wesley Copper, Anisha Davis, Katie Ivie, Alicia Kirgan, Melanie Mayes, Doug Pritchett, Crystal Wilson, Lexi Batsios, Lindsay Bayer, Chris Crider, Amanda Gass, Carolyn Kinnunen, Mary Miller, Melanie Mooshegian, Liz Moulton, Josh Turck, Cory Fischer, Emily Gavilsky, Adrian and Leandro Gonzales, Amanda Marti, Karolyn Page, Maggie Ronk, Kelsey Roseman, Rebecca Vance--These were all people that I went to high school with that were "popular" or "cool."  They were all also of a size that would have prevented them from shopping at Abercrombie and Fitch.  So Mr. Jeffries assumption that "fat chicks" or just fat people in general will never be part of the "in" crowd?  Yeah, guess that's been blown straight to hell.

Statement #2: "We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends."

     Issue: I went to high school (as most of us did).  I don't know about other people, but in my case, the "attractive all-American kids"--the popular kids--were assholes.  They didn't have great attitudes.  They had superior, pompous, snobbish and mean attitudes.  They took pleasure in talking down to the "un-popular" kids--whether they were skinny or fat--and were downright mean and nasty to a lot of people.  And sure, they had a lot of "friends."  Friends who talked consistently about each other behind each other's backs, friends who didn't hesitate to steal a boyfriend or girlfriend because it might raise their status in the popularity food chain, friends with squeaky clean facades for faces and nasty personalities underneath.  

Sure, they all dressed nicely.  The skinny ones with money wore Abercrombie and Fitch, American Eagle, and H&M.  The heavier kids that were popular were just out of luck, I guess.  They had money and it was evident.  It didn't change the fact that many of those kids' "reigns" lasted up until graduation.  And then we all entered this huge place called the Real World.  And suddenly being popular didn't open nearly as many doors.  Neither did an Abercrombie and Fitch label.

Statement #3: "Abercrombie is only interested in people with washboard stomachs who look like they're about to jump off a surfboard."

     Issue: Does Mr. Jeffries stop every customer at the door, ask that they raise their shirts to prove they have a six-pack and if they are found lacking, are they turned away at the door?  C'mon, man.  Out of all the skinny and popular guys I went to school with, maybe a hand full actually had washboard stomachs.  The number of girls with that physical attribute was even less.  I know, because I changed with a bunch of them during gym class for four years.  

Oh, and not be petty Mr. Jeffries, but you look like this:

So...if Abercrombie is only interested in "surfer-dudes" with washboard abs....you're missing the tan and you're missing the six-pack.  You're setting a great example for your company's expectations.  **dripping sarcasm found here**  Why the hell is Abercrombie interested in you??

Statement #4: "Listen, do we go too far sometimes?  Absolutely.  But we try to push the envelope, and we try to be funny, and we try to stay authentic and relevant to our target customer."

     Issue:  You try to be funny?  Do you hear anybody laughing?  Surely the people who can't walk into your store for fear of being criticized or demoralized aren't.  Oh, but that's right.  You don't care about those people.  You made that quite clear when you stated the following:

Statement #5: "A lot of people don't belong {in our clothes} and they can't belong."

and

Statement #6: "Are we exclusionary?  Absolutely."

Now, there are those out there I'm sure would argue that you have the right to advertise however you like, you have the right to target a certain customer base and that Mike Jeffries is perfectly justified in his opinions.  And those people would be right, he most definitely does have that right.

And I'm sure there are those out there who will say that I am only angry about this because I'm most likely a fat, unpopular woman who needs something to bitch about.  I am indeed overweight, weighing in right now around 250 pounds and the list of people I consider real friends is very short.  

However, in high school, I wore a size 12 jean, stayed physically active and was a fairly attractive person.  I didn't believe I was an attractive person at the time--the media told me I wasn't because I was "fat," the people I went to school with told me I wasn't because I wasn't "popular," and I had no sense of self-confidence to tell me otherwise.  But I wasn't fat in high school.  I was healthy in high school.  

Today, I've had two babies within two years and put my weight and self-image to the side to focus on my two daughters.  My anger with the CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch has nothing to do with the fact that I can't wear his clothing.  I wouldn't wear it even if I could--it's cheaply made, way too expensive and I would in no way support a man whose vision focuses on ripping young girls apart.  It has everything to do with the fact that I have two young daughters who before I know it will be facing the social pressure to buy "cool" clothes from places like Abercrombie and Fitch; who before I know it will be facing the social pressure to be a size 2 because that's what's "cool."  Unfortunately, a size 2 is not in my daughters' genes.  Before I know it I will be contending with everything from media to store advertising to anorexia and bulimia to diet and exercise to halter tops vs. t-shirts.  It is a hard enough task for a mother to love herself and her own self-image enough to truly encourage her daughter(s) from early on to love themselves and their own body images.  A mother has to take on the world--literally--and try to convince her daughter that she is right and everybody else is wrong.  That being a size 10, or 12, or 14 is perfectly acceptable.  Hell, that being a size 20, or 22, or 24 is perfectly acceptable too.  That beauty does not equate the number on the label of your dress.  That health is so much more important than anything else.  That numbers are subjective and mean very little in the grand scheme of things.  That a beautiful, compassionate, loving and non-judgmental personality is so much more important than a tiny waist.  That a person's state of "coolness" is determined by them and the people who love them, not some dumb asshole who is so insecure about himself that he takes pride and pleasure in tearing other people down and making them feel inadequate.  

Yes, Mr. Jeffries, you have the right to exclude people.  You have the right to advertise to a certain audience.  You have the right to hate fat people because deep down I think there's a good chance you hate yourself.  You have the right to run your business however you see fit and however you think will make you the most money.

I can only hope and pray to God that by the time my girls are old enough to even consider shopping at a store like yours, your company has lost so much money due to your stilted and prejudiced opinions that Abercrombie and Fitch is no longer an option for them.

As I said at the beginning of this, I try really hard for the most part to not be crude, to not be rude, to write with a sense of maturity.  But in this case, I feel the need to make an exception.

I'm sending a little birdie your way, Mr. Jeffries, and the message it carries is very short, simple and succinct: 

FUCK YOU.

Thank you and have a nice day.

May 13, 2013--The Second Sunday in May

I've never really taken the time to do a lot of online reading before.  News articles, blogs, updates on the Bears, etc.  There was always something else to do.

But lately, I've found myself intrigued by what other people have to say, especially when it comes to being a mom and parenting.  I would guess this is probably fairly typical for most parents, but I find myself questioning myself a lot these days.  Having two girls and watching them interact, I constantly am second-guessing how I should react to this scenario or that scenario.  I didn't have a sister and although I did have a brother, I don't remember a lot of our younger years interactions.  Plus, we were three and a half years apart.  My girls are separated by a scant nineteen months.  It changes the dynamic just a little bit, I'm sure.

But I digress.

As I said, I take the time to read quite a bit online now and yesterday I was amazed by the wide spectrum of opinions, statements, reactions, etc about the fact that it was Mother's Day.

My Facebook feed yesterday was inundated (as I'm sure most people's were) with statuses wishing women a Happy Mother's Day.  Many (including my own) had specific women tagged, ranging from mothers, to mother-in-laws, to sisters who happened to be mothers, to aunts, to friends, etc.

One of my friends, who is not a very big fan of children (which is completely his right) wished a good day to women who have chosen to deal with the massive amounts of poop, vomit and pee that accompany a small child.  It was drenched in sarcasm.  Another friend's status gave a shout-out to all the women who have adopted, or fostered, or simply chosen not to procreate.  A family member stated later in the day that there was nothing wrong with celebrating those who choose to be parents and if other people have a problem with such set-aside days, they can simply shut up.

I read one blog that I later shared, written by a mother who spoke lovingly of her four sons and her appreciation for the same-old, same-old gifts she is given every year and the sloppily hand-drawn cards she is presented with.  She then went on to say that part of the reason she is so grateful for these things is because she knows there are many women out there who do not have the same privilege.  She spoke of the women who have lost their children due to miscarriage, to stillbirth or to late complications.  She mentioned the mothers of Aurora, CO and Newtown, CT who are spending this Mother's Day without the children they have had by their side for so many years.  She spoke of the Boston bombing and the families--mothers, fathers and children alike--who were ripped apart so recently.  She wished blessings on them all and said an extra thank-you for her own children who spent the day safe in her loving embrace.

I read another blog, written by another woman, speaking out for all those women who do not hold the title of mother and are "excluded" on this celebratory day.  She wrote in support of the women who put their careers first.  The women who do not believe it is fair to be bring a child into this degenerative world in which we live.  The women who are not married and don't wish to have children outside of marriage.  She gave a shout-out to the women unable to have children for whatever reason, medical or otherwise as well as to those who have lost children.  Her message was basically that either mothers in general or whoever came up with the concept of Mother's Day or the mothers who are loud and proud about their state of motherhood should get over themselves and quit lauding their own state of being over those who have chosen a different lifestyle.  It was in response to people like this that I'm assuming my family member was commenting on.  

I have a friend who recently lost her son.  Those of you who have kept up with my blog probably know of whom I speak.  Her greatest wish in life has always been to be a mother.  Her greatest loss was when her son died in her arms at the age of only three weeks.  She has since agonized over how she would spend this day that is set aside to celebrate motherhood.  She has questioned whether she is still a mother at this point, or more accurately, should she celebrate being a mother when her son is no longer with her.

All this being said, I would like to give (without being too long-winded, I hope) my response to the wide spectrum of statuses, blogs, statements, etc., I was exposed to yesterday.

The day is called Mother's Day, yes.  Whether you are a mother or not may or may not be your choice.  Whether you are or you're not, you have a mother.  Each one of us came from another.  And I know that not every one of us is blessed with a good mother.  I would go into detail about another family member of mine, but that might not be the smartest thing I've ever done.  Suffice it to say, I'm familiar with the not-so-good moms as well as the awesome ones.

The point is, we all owe our existence to a woman that at some point, somewhere, somehow, gave birth to us.  The life we are living is due to a woman, a mother, growing us in her body for up to nine months and then expelling us from her body and setting us loose on the world.  That in and of itself, should be reason to celebrate.  Celebrating our mothers, in a way allows us to celebrate ourselves.

If you have the most awesome mother in the world, use the day to remember that fact, and to tell her so.  If you had a not-so-good mother, use the day to remind yourself of the kind of person you don't want to be, the kind of parent you don't want to be if you've decided to have kids.  

If you're a woman who has been blessed with children that are living with you now, use the day to embrace your state of motherhood, hug your children tight and appreciate the wonderful gift you've been given.  Use your influence well and remember that your children will emulate you--be a good example.  And yes, don't be ashamed to take a break by hiding in the bathroom, taking an unscheduled nap, or hiring a babysitter while you go out to dinner.

If you're a woman who has lost a child, remember that Mother's Day does not change what happened one way or the other.  If you celebrate it, it doesn't mean you're not showing enough respect or grief for the child you lost.  If you don't celebrate it, it doesn't mean you're a martyr.  Only you can know how best to handle the day and no one has any right to judge how you do so.  Losing a child makes you no less of a mother, though, and we mothers who have not suffered your pain will still do all we can to support you because we can only hope that were the situation reversed, you would do the same for us.

If you're a woman who gave up a child, you are a stronger and better mother than many.  Giving up a child knowing that it's the best decision for the child, even if it's not the best decision for you, makes you the best parent you could possibly be.  You're allowed to celebrate the fact that you did what was right, and if you don't want to celebrate, you're perfectly justified in that as well.  That's another kind of pain that most of us don't and can't understand.

If you're a woman who has chosen to not have kids, for whatever reason, use the day to celebrate your own mother, or if your own mother is a not-so-good parent, just treat the day like any other.  I mean, seriously, you are allowed to not want kids.  You're allowed to not have kids.  You're allowed to put your career first. Making those decisions does not in any way make you less of a woman (and if any mother tries to tell you differently, they're wrong).  Some women are not meant to be mothers, and if you are one of them, thank you for knowing that, acknowledging it and not adding to the burden of the system.  Women who do not have kids are to be admired for their accomplishments just as much as women who choose to stay home and raise children.  

However...if you are one of these women, you also have to realize that you made a decision and you can't resent the presence of a holiday that has been around for over a century.  That would be like the Jews complaining that Christians celebrate Christmas, just because they don't believe that Jesus is the Christ, or worse, Christians complaining that Jews celebrate Hanukkah.  That would be like resenting Secretaries Day (I think it's called Administrative Assistant Appreciation or some such thing these days) because you don't work in an office or hating Thanksgiving/Turkey Day because you decided to become a vegetarian.

There will always be holidays that don't apply to someone.  Should we not celebrate Valentine's Day because not every person is in a relationship?  Should we not celebrate the 4th of July because not everyone feels patriotic?  If you don't agree with what a recognized holiday celebrates, or if it doesn't apply to you, simply enjoy your day off, or the awesome store sales, and move on.  Celebrate the fact that you're not a mom and don't have to deal with the poop and the vomit and the 3am feedings and the whining and the PTA meetings.  Celebrate that you can still sleep in on your Saturdays and go out with friends without considering whether or not you can find a babysitter and have sex in whichever room of the house you please whenever you please because you don't have to worry about your toddler walking in on you screaming, "Mommy, I have to go potty!"

And for those of us that have decided that having to schedule sex and waking up at 7am seven days a week and going on dates to the kiddy park are worth the little people that cover us in kisses and hugs and homemade cards with handprints (and yes, the poop and vomit, too)...don't begrudge us that.

My own personal opinion is that being a mom is the greatest gift and privilege I could ever have.  I also know it's not for everybody.  That being said, Mother's Day is just a day.  To some, it's everything and to others it's just another Sunday.  To each his own.  Let each woman celebrate the day as she sees fit.  

If all you've got time to do is bitch about how another woman is spending the day, you're wasting it--no matter which category you fall into.  Just saying.

May 1, 2013--Pain has quite the fallout...

Pain is a really strong thing.  And I don't just mean physical pain.  Emotional, psychological, mental pain--it's a really strong thing.

I've done quite a bit of self-evaluation recently and I've come to a couple conclusions:

The first is that for most of my life I've been a pretty judgmental person.  I've viewed the world in black and white, in right and wrong, with no real middle ground.  No grey area.  The problem with that is, the world isn't black and white.  There is grey area.  I've ignored that and made judgments, wrong judgments, about a lot of things, a lot of people.

The second is that I've taken my high pain threshold for granted.  Most of my life I've dealt with pain, physical pain, well.  But it's been short-term pain.  The long-term pain I've dealt with since my car accident has come close to unhinging me at times.  In the past 18 months there have been times when I've been so focused on how much pain I'm in, that I've missed all the good that was going on around me.  I've missed moments with my kids, picked fights with my husband, ignored the chances handed to me to make and keep friends.

The third and final is that I don't deal with emotional pain nearly as well as I do (or did) physical pain.  I took a pretty heavy emotional blow a few years ago from someone that I had counted as a very good friend and I have let that situation taint my judgment about more recent happenings.  I judged another very good friend based on what the other had done previously and it was a huge mistake.  Huge.  I severed a longstanding relationship and now I don't know that it will be able to be repaired.  I've taken steps to try but it will be a very long, very slow process.

The combination of the emotional pain I've been hanging on to for far too long and the physical pain from a car accident and pregnancy did not make for a good cocktail.  I drowned in my pain for a long time; I let it consume everything.  I let it take over who I was as a person, I let it control my actions, I let it sway my decisions.  And now I'm being forced to try and make amends for things I did, for the person I was.  It's a large pill to swallow.

Saying sorry to a person I care for deeply, to a person I threw away like garbage, was not easy.  Listening to her figuratively rip me a new one and put me severely in my place was harder.  I've never been one to readily admit when I was wrong.  I've never been one to think I was wrong, let alone tell someone else I was.

But I was wrong here.  And while admitting it wasn't fun, it was easier than having the person I admitted it to tell me she wasn't sure she believed me.  It was easier than having her tell me that I should be sorry, that I had shown my "true colors" and that she didn't need me.  It was easier than having to finally admit to myself that I had acted like the people I have condemned for so long because they treated me like I treated her.

That's not who I am, but I was so bogged down with the things I was going through, the hardships I was dealing with, the pain I was in, that I couldn't see the things she was going through, the hardships she was dealing with, the pain she was in.  I let my pain control me.

Don't let your pain take over.  Don't let it become the only thing you can focus on.  Don't let it control you.  Because it can cause you to make some bad decisions, it can make you do some awful things.  And it doesn't make for a very good excuse, even if it is a valid one.

Get help.  See a doctor.  Talk to someone.  Don't shut people out because you think they can't or won't understand.  Keep your people around you and do whatever it takes to keep them close.  Because without the people you care about, who care about you, around you, all you have left is your pain.  And pain isn't a real nice companion.

Pain is a really strong thing.  Don't let it be stronger than you.