Over the last couple of weeks, I've engaged in a pretty heated debate on Facebook responding to the statement from Chick-Fil-a regarding "traditional biblical marriage" and gay rights. Then, a college friend posted a very poignant picture of a 12-week old fetus as an abortion deterrent. In the past I've been involved in heated debates about abortion rights.
Look, I do not support, endorse or ever intend to have an abortion. I feel terribly sorry for those who do. I think it's wrong, I think it's murder.
But it's protected under the Constitution.
And regardless of mine or any other person's personal feelings about whether or not abortion is ethical, evil, reprehensible or even reliable birth control (?!), the fact remains that when the Supreme Court ruled on Roe v. Wade, it made it legal.
Same thing with gay rights. Although I don't harbor any anti-gay sentiments myself, I recognize that there are people who have been taught that the Bible is clear cut on the issue: Jesus hates Gays and That's That. While there are a million reasons why this is just not good Biblical scholarship, not representative of an understanding of Christianity, and just plain wrong, my arguments with people have hinged on just a few important points.
Gay marriage is protected under the Constitution.
No really. The Equal Protection Clause of the 14th Amendment says: "All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the
jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the
State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which
shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United
States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or
property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its
jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws."
All persons. Not all straight persons. Not all Christians. Not all any-one-group-to-the-exclusion-of-another.
So why does this debate even exist? Mainly, I think, because it is the Pet Issue of certain groups of Christians. Generally the same people who want the government out of their healthcare but want the government to require a woman to have an ultrasound before an abortion.
I have often been told (in all caps) that all morality derives from religion, therefore it is impossible to make laws that aren't influenced by religion. Although I will allow that many people derive their moral compass from their faith, I'd argue that Christianity doesn't have the lock-up on morals. I would be willing to bet that the vast majority of the Ten Commandments were things generally frowned upon by societies that flourished long before the emergence of monotheistic religion. I don't think that in Ancient Sumer it was considered cool to murder, steal, etc...... Actually, if I'm not mistaken, the Code of Hammurabi pretty much laid that out. And what scares the jeepers out of me is the idea that a large segment of Americans seem to want this country to operate as a theocracy instead of a democracy. A theocracy- a government based on religious laws. If you're interested in how that would turn out, I'd invite you to take a look at Afghanistan and the Middle East. Swell, no?
Theocracies scare me. They scare me because I think our founding fathers were really intelligent when they put in the Constitution that: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof ...." The Founders seemed to understand that for a nation to be free, for the Bill of Rights to matter, the government had to be secular. Otherwise, why bother with a Constitution at all? Just follow the Levitical laws as they appear in the Bible and have a nice, Biblical society. Except the laws laid out in the Bible sometimes directly contradict what Americans have come to think of as moral.....
So why is it so hard for Christians to separate the idea of democracy with the idea of theocracy? I totally understand that mainstream and evangelical Christianity thinks it has the monopoly on determining right and wrong; but that's not how our country was founded. We were founded as the place where people could go when no other place on Earth accepted them. Granted, those people were some pretty hardcore religious fundamentalists, but their purpose in coming here remains the same.
So whether or not your faith allows you to agree or disagree with the sinfulness of abortion, gay marriage, eating pork, cutting your hair, or anything that your particular faith holds out as a non-negotiable sin, the tenants of one faith have no place in being the basis for legislation in this country. So I invite people to make their own decisions regarding whether or not they would like to participate in gay marriage and/or have an abortion based on their own faith. However, to use religion to justify oppressing or denying rights to a citizen of this country is flatly against the laws of this nation.
And on a parting note, I am particularly disgusted by the reaction I've gotten from so. many. conservative. Christians- that the only reason I would have these heretical thoughts and words is because I haven't read or don't understand the Bible. (Someone actually argued that Jesus taught against homosexuality.... in reality Jesus never even mentioned the subject in scripture.) I've had the First Amendment tossed at me, the "I have a right to my opinion," all of it.... but it changes nothing. I'm not arguing that people can't be anti-abortion and homophobic or homodisliking. I'm arguing that morality that you have derived from your own religion has no place forcing laws on others. And I'm calling it hypocritical to say that some biblical laws matter and some don't. If you're condemning gays based on the Bible, then please show me that you're living by every other law. And if your shirt is a cotton/poly blend, you've already struck out.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
The One Where I Get Political
With the recent and justified outrage against "personhood," contraception, abortion rights and jackass radio host Rush Limbaugh, I find myself being increasingly aware of my own political tendencies. I remember well the first day of World History at McIntosh High school, 10th grade, 1993. My teacher was the enthusiastic Joseph Jarrell, a name revered through the halls of McIntosh as either the best or worst thing that could appear on your 10th grade class schedule. When we came in, he seated us in neat rows alphabetically according to last name and pointed out a quote he'd written on the chalkboard.
"Those who do not learn from history are often doomed to repeat it."
Nearly 20 years later, I believe I can tell the people who learned from history and those who did not, and the difference is startling and frightening in the political arena. Now, let me make one thing perfectly clear: I think most people, individually, are reasonably intelligent. I think that people as a whole are easily led lemmings looking for someone to tell them what to think, do, feel, and buy because they are too lazy or scared to decide that for themselves. And that's where religion comes in.
As I get older, I consider myself less and less religious and more and more simply spiritual. I believe there's a God- the chaos is too defined for there not to be, I think, and I believe that there was a man named Jesus who lived about 2,000 years ago and preached a message of being nice to each other and taking care of those whom we can help. When I look at history, I look at the history of the influence of religion, politics and economics on the lives of the people of this planet. In truth, we studied the whole history of Europe through the lens of the effects of the influence of the Catholic (Catholic-with-a-big-c, Mr. Jarrell would remind us) church. The history of America is studied through the lens of religion, economics and politics. When you go to a dinner party what are the three things you're not supposed to discuss? Money, religion and politics. As Kostas Portokalos in My Big Fat Greek Wedding would say, "And there you have it."
Those are contentious subjects, sure, because everyone believes that whatever he or she think is the right thing to think. And what I believe has become dangerous to our country is that increasingly the people who are telling the mob how to think are a group of Fundamentalist Evangelical Christians who don't actually represent the actual opinions or feelings of most of America, just the ones that seem to shout the loudest and catch the attention of the Media.
I 100% believe that our forefathers were 100% in the right when they included in the Constitution that Congress shall make no law respecting religion. And I'm fearful that religion has become the number one driving force behind legislation and election happening in this country, and when religion takes control of legislation and election, you have one of two outcomes : The Dark Ages and/or The Taliban. BOTH of those things spring directly from allowing religious leaders to be the people who are making laws. During the Dark Ages, the Church was amassing huge wealth, building grand cathedrals that people still marvel at today and letting the believers live in fear, disease and filth. The Taliban failed pretty miserably at the amassing wealth and building cathedrals part,but they certainly slapped the Afghan people down into living in fear, disease and filth. Not the same sort, but nonetheless.
People like to argue with me that they don't have the opinions they do because of what they hear in church, and I say that's completely untrue. One of the things I like best about the churches that I've attended in my life with regularity is that they kept the polarizing issues from the media out of the pulpit. I've never had a pastor preach against voting for any one candidate or another. I've never heard a sermon on abortion or the sinfulness of birth control. So you don't think your opinions come from a preacher, eh? Well, in my mind there are 2 places where one can get their "truths:" their church (or the effect that religion has on their family and community, even indirectly) and science or mathematics. Morality and often political sentiment are taught to the masses by preachers, or those who are influenced by them.
So I don't know what the answer is. I'm not anti-religion, I'm not anti-government or even anti-politics. I think differences of opinion are necessary to inspire people to think. But I think the danger of the current hyper-religious political game is that it's taking one opinion, stamping "God Approved" on it, and running off with a smug sense of self-righteousness.
"Those who do not learn from history are often doomed to repeat it."
Nearly 20 years later, I believe I can tell the people who learned from history and those who did not, and the difference is startling and frightening in the political arena. Now, let me make one thing perfectly clear: I think most people, individually, are reasonably intelligent. I think that people as a whole are easily led lemmings looking for someone to tell them what to think, do, feel, and buy because they are too lazy or scared to decide that for themselves. And that's where religion comes in.
As I get older, I consider myself less and less religious and more and more simply spiritual. I believe there's a God- the chaos is too defined for there not to be, I think, and I believe that there was a man named Jesus who lived about 2,000 years ago and preached a message of being nice to each other and taking care of those whom we can help. When I look at history, I look at the history of the influence of religion, politics and economics on the lives of the people of this planet. In truth, we studied the whole history of Europe through the lens of the effects of the influence of the Catholic (Catholic-with-a-big-c, Mr. Jarrell would remind us) church. The history of America is studied through the lens of religion, economics and politics. When you go to a dinner party what are the three things you're not supposed to discuss? Money, religion and politics. As Kostas Portokalos in My Big Fat Greek Wedding would say, "And there you have it."
Those are contentious subjects, sure, because everyone believes that whatever he or she think is the right thing to think. And what I believe has become dangerous to our country is that increasingly the people who are telling the mob how to think are a group of Fundamentalist Evangelical Christians who don't actually represent the actual opinions or feelings of most of America, just the ones that seem to shout the loudest and catch the attention of the Media.
I 100% believe that our forefathers were 100% in the right when they included in the Constitution that Congress shall make no law respecting religion. And I'm fearful that religion has become the number one driving force behind legislation and election happening in this country, and when religion takes control of legislation and election, you have one of two outcomes : The Dark Ages and/or The Taliban. BOTH of those things spring directly from allowing religious leaders to be the people who are making laws. During the Dark Ages, the Church was amassing huge wealth, building grand cathedrals that people still marvel at today and letting the believers live in fear, disease and filth. The Taliban failed pretty miserably at the amassing wealth and building cathedrals part,but they certainly slapped the Afghan people down into living in fear, disease and filth. Not the same sort, but nonetheless.
People like to argue with me that they don't have the opinions they do because of what they hear in church, and I say that's completely untrue. One of the things I like best about the churches that I've attended in my life with regularity is that they kept the polarizing issues from the media out of the pulpit. I've never had a pastor preach against voting for any one candidate or another. I've never heard a sermon on abortion or the sinfulness of birth control. So you don't think your opinions come from a preacher, eh? Well, in my mind there are 2 places where one can get their "truths:" their church (or the effect that religion has on their family and community, even indirectly) and science or mathematics. Morality and often political sentiment are taught to the masses by preachers, or those who are influenced by them.
So I don't know what the answer is. I'm not anti-religion, I'm not anti-government or even anti-politics. I think differences of opinion are necessary to inspire people to think. But I think the danger of the current hyper-religious political game is that it's taking one opinion, stamping "God Approved" on it, and running off with a smug sense of self-righteousness.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Baby Hairs
When I was pregnant, both times, I could get heartburn from crackers, from water, from antacids. According to the Old Wives' Tale Storybook, that meant my babies would have hair. Now, normally I am not one who puts too much stock in old wives' tales as I know plenty of people who had heartburn just as bad as mine whose babies were born as bald as Jean-Luc Picard. Then I gave birth to this:
Which looked like this at 2 months:
Who, by 6 months old looked like this:
And by a year and a half was sporting THIS:
When she was born with the mop, EVERYONE said "It'll fall out and come back in blonde." And here we are, over two years later and after cutting 4" off a New Years, my 2 and a half year old has brown hair to the middle of her back, still. Never once did a strand fall out, and nor did it turn blonde.
When I was pregnant with #2, we wondered what we would do if she was born bald. I mean, very few babies sport coifs like The Squirt, but we figured if Niblet was bald, we'd buy her a baby wig like Suzanne Sugarbaker in Designing Women. So when this girl was born, we were a bit relieved:
At first we were kind of excited because we thought maybe she'd have curls... but it turns out, she is a hedgehog.
And we like our hedgehog mighty fine.
Who, by 6 months old looked like this:
And by a year and a half was sporting THIS:
When I was pregnant with #2, we wondered what we would do if she was born bald. I mean, very few babies sport coifs like The Squirt, but we figured if Niblet was bald, we'd buy her a baby wig like Suzanne Sugarbaker in Designing Women. So when this girl was born, we were a bit relieved:
At first we were kind of excited because we thought maybe she'd have curls... but it turns out, she is a hedgehog.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
I have 2 kids! Let's not screw them up!
Well, Darling Daughter 2 was born just over a month ago and we haven't slept since then. C'est la vie. I think there is something in our genetics that causes us to forget, edit/polish or willfully ignore how awful having a newborn is because otherwise nobody would ever have 2 kids. On the plus side, she's totally cute and looks a little like a hedgehog.
Now that I have 2 kids, I feel very "parenty." And as a former nanny and now a teacher, I have dealt with the consequences of bad parenting and the rewards of good parenting every day for the last decade or more. I hope that I will do better by my own daughters than some of those whose decisions make my job more difficult than it needs to be while taking the examples of the great parents I interact with whose children reflect the job they're doing.
What are some things that are hallmarks of good or bad parenting? Oh, let me ennumerate....
1. Good parents advocate for their child but don't try to control outcomes for their children. Kids absolutely HAVE to learn what it feels like to fail. If you shield your child from every disappointment, even a truly deserved failure, you have taught them that everything will always go their way. As adults we KNOW that isn't true, and some of the most aggravating and intolerable people you know in your life are almost certainly those who believe they must get their own way all the time.
2. Don't be afraid to make your child cry. As humans we learn the difference between right and wrong by not liking how we feel when we've done something wrong. I don't think kids are born with a conscience. I think it is a parent's job to make his or her kid feel bad when they've done something wrong. The kid then learns that feeling bad about what you did sucks and boom! a conscience is born.
3. Trust your child's teacher until he or she gives you a real and valid reason not to. Teachers see your child in a whole different environment than their family does. A teacher might, one day, tell you that your child did something that you have a hard time believing- but in my experience, teachers don't generally make up stuff to make children look bad. Teachers understand kids a lot better than most parents do because we see such a wide variety of them. A teacher can often give you the best advice for how to deal with an issue, although legally we're not allowed to because it's overreaching, I guess. If your son or daughter's teacher tells you that he or she is having trouble with behavior or academics, it's in your best interest to believe it. It doesn't necessarily make you a bad parent if you have a kid who struggles with something- but it DOES make you a bad parent to ignore the reality of it and fail to help your child cope or overcome.
4. Learn to say no. Learn to MEAN no. Learn not to let "no" change to "yes" or "maybe." Being able to stick to an absolute no is an invaluable parenting must. Does that mean you're never allowed to change your mind? Of course not- one of the best things a child can learn from his or her parents is that sometimes it's necessary to reexamine a situation. But if you always cave into your child, they will learn, once again, that they're supposed to get their way in every situation.
5. Help your child learn that ALL actions have consequences; good or bad. I don't mean that you need to reward all good decisions and punish all bad ones. We already have a culture of children who have been raised believing that they deserve candy for pooping in the toilet. I reward for things that go beyond a regular expectation. But that doesn't mean that you can't teach your child that good things have good consequences anyway. You cleaned up your room? Wow, now you hava a nice neat place to play, aren't you lucky? You were nice to a new student in your class? Awesome, you probably made a new friend. You learned your vocabulary for the test this week and got a good grade? I'm proud of you and all those new words you are learning will make you sound so smart when you use them in your speech or writing. I don't expect kids to be perfect, obviously. But I have found one of the most powerful negative consequences for a child is to have a grownup express disappointment in their choices, but not to try to stop them from doing what they decided to do. You're choosing to play your computer game instead of studying for your science test? Wow, I'm really disappointed. I thought you would make a better choice than that..... for a child in whom you have developed a conscience, that stings worse than you unplugging the computer and forcing them to open their science notes.... they make the choice to do the right thing themself rather than being forced.... and they don't end up being mad about the Huge Injustice their Evil Parent just did to them.
I got all thoughty for this post because I have a set of parenst who is not happy that I noted on a report card that their child's behavior modification plan was going well. First of all, having the teacher tell you your child's behavior plan is successful is a COMPLIMENT to your child. But these parents are only concerned that it indicates that there was a behavior problem to begin with. So what? Stop believing your child is a perfect angel- kids are HUMAN and they are not perfect. CELEBRATE that your child has overcome something that was a struggle. Tell your child you're proud of the good work he or she has done in having more self control in the classroom. Understand that your child's failures don't make you look bad unless their reaction to the failure isn't what it ought to be.
Oy. I have just under another month of maternity leave and I'm pretty happy about that. I absolutely love many of the students in my class this year and the parents who have raised them to be awesome, but on the whole I will be glad to move this group up to first grade and start fresh with new kids and new parents. It's a hard mix this year.
Now that I have 2 kids, I feel very "parenty." And as a former nanny and now a teacher, I have dealt with the consequences of bad parenting and the rewards of good parenting every day for the last decade or more. I hope that I will do better by my own daughters than some of those whose decisions make my job more difficult than it needs to be while taking the examples of the great parents I interact with whose children reflect the job they're doing.
What are some things that are hallmarks of good or bad parenting? Oh, let me ennumerate....
1. Good parents advocate for their child but don't try to control outcomes for their children. Kids absolutely HAVE to learn what it feels like to fail. If you shield your child from every disappointment, even a truly deserved failure, you have taught them that everything will always go their way. As adults we KNOW that isn't true, and some of the most aggravating and intolerable people you know in your life are almost certainly those who believe they must get their own way all the time.
2. Don't be afraid to make your child cry. As humans we learn the difference between right and wrong by not liking how we feel when we've done something wrong. I don't think kids are born with a conscience. I think it is a parent's job to make his or her kid feel bad when they've done something wrong. The kid then learns that feeling bad about what you did sucks and boom! a conscience is born.
3. Trust your child's teacher until he or she gives you a real and valid reason not to. Teachers see your child in a whole different environment than their family does. A teacher might, one day, tell you that your child did something that you have a hard time believing- but in my experience, teachers don't generally make up stuff to make children look bad. Teachers understand kids a lot better than most parents do because we see such a wide variety of them. A teacher can often give you the best advice for how to deal with an issue, although legally we're not allowed to because it's overreaching, I guess. If your son or daughter's teacher tells you that he or she is having trouble with behavior or academics, it's in your best interest to believe it. It doesn't necessarily make you a bad parent if you have a kid who struggles with something- but it DOES make you a bad parent to ignore the reality of it and fail to help your child cope or overcome.
4. Learn to say no. Learn to MEAN no. Learn not to let "no" change to "yes" or "maybe." Being able to stick to an absolute no is an invaluable parenting must. Does that mean you're never allowed to change your mind? Of course not- one of the best things a child can learn from his or her parents is that sometimes it's necessary to reexamine a situation. But if you always cave into your child, they will learn, once again, that they're supposed to get their way in every situation.
5. Help your child learn that ALL actions have consequences; good or bad. I don't mean that you need to reward all good decisions and punish all bad ones. We already have a culture of children who have been raised believing that they deserve candy for pooping in the toilet. I reward for things that go beyond a regular expectation. But that doesn't mean that you can't teach your child that good things have good consequences anyway. You cleaned up your room? Wow, now you hava a nice neat place to play, aren't you lucky? You were nice to a new student in your class? Awesome, you probably made a new friend. You learned your vocabulary for the test this week and got a good grade? I'm proud of you and all those new words you are learning will make you sound so smart when you use them in your speech or writing. I don't expect kids to be perfect, obviously. But I have found one of the most powerful negative consequences for a child is to have a grownup express disappointment in their choices, but not to try to stop them from doing what they decided to do. You're choosing to play your computer game instead of studying for your science test? Wow, I'm really disappointed. I thought you would make a better choice than that..... for a child in whom you have developed a conscience, that stings worse than you unplugging the computer and forcing them to open their science notes.... they make the choice to do the right thing themself rather than being forced.... and they don't end up being mad about the Huge Injustice their Evil Parent just did to them.
I got all thoughty for this post because I have a set of parenst who is not happy that I noted on a report card that their child's behavior modification plan was going well. First of all, having the teacher tell you your child's behavior plan is successful is a COMPLIMENT to your child. But these parents are only concerned that it indicates that there was a behavior problem to begin with. So what? Stop believing your child is a perfect angel- kids are HUMAN and they are not perfect. CELEBRATE that your child has overcome something that was a struggle. Tell your child you're proud of the good work he or she has done in having more self control in the classroom. Understand that your child's failures don't make you look bad unless their reaction to the failure isn't what it ought to be.
Oy. I have just under another month of maternity leave and I'm pretty happy about that. I absolutely love many of the students in my class this year and the parents who have raised them to be awesome, but on the whole I will be glad to move this group up to first grade and start fresh with new kids and new parents. It's a hard mix this year.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
It Just Never Ends
I haven't posted in a while because I'm too pregnant to live. Between trying to not lose my job, keep my house neat enough to at least not qualify for an episode of Hoarders, taking care of the world's most awesome 2 year old, 2 dogs, 2 cats, a husband and myself, blogging basically didn't exist..... but you forgive me, you know you do.
So Fun With Labor officially got off to a start on Wednesday. Baby Girl #2 is due on 1/26, but all signs point to her intention to make her debut earlier. There's been a nasty stomach flu working its way through the kids at school and they were kind enough to share it. While I managed to avoid the cataclysmic puking episodes, the other symptom led to me getting fairly dehydrated. So dehydrated in fact, that it made my blood pressure go bonkers which in turn started me having some irregular but strong contractions. My blood pressure usually hovers around the 115/75 range, so seeing numbers like 140/110 was scary. On Thursday at work I just felt "off" and emailed my OB who asked if I could get my BP checked at school or if I could run over to their local office and have it checked. Our public health nurse who is one of those old-school nurses who know everything about everything took one look at me and said "Oh honey, you need to go home" before she even checked my BP. So once she got that scary number, I was sent packing to the OB who sent me to the hospital for monitoring, blood work and fluids.
Luckily all the bloodwork came back negative for anything scary, and after a couple of hours of fluids the contractions tapered off and I felt much better. But I still got sent home on bed rest and OB said she'd be surprised if I was still pregnant by the end of next week. On Friday I enjoyed having a day of rest, to be honest, and today I've been uncomfortable and just trying to keep the stress down so I don't ratchet up the bp again.
But of course, my mother can't allow that. Oh no. For some reason the woman has decided that me having children is somehow all about her. Yesterday I was accused of having had the baby and not telling her. Today I have enjoyed her standard passive-aggressive emails about how "inconvenient" it is for me not to answer her phone calls to make me decribe everything my 2 year old has done or said in the last 48 hours. Inconvenient. INCONVENIENT. Why do I have to make anything about my life convenient for you, Mother? Why is the birth of my child something that should revolve around you and what's easy for YOU?!? I don't see a single reason why it should, so therefore it's not going to. You are not the only grandmother on earth whose grandchildren live out of driving distance. I am not under any OBLIGATION to make travel plans for you. You're a big girl. As my dear friend would say, scratch your mad place and get glad.
Luckily my husband has risen to the occasion and will be informing her that I will not be talking to or answering text messages from her or anyone else until after the baby is born and if she wants updates on anything, she will have to embrace the "inconvenience" of calling him instead.
So Fun With Labor officially got off to a start on Wednesday. Baby Girl #2 is due on 1/26, but all signs point to her intention to make her debut earlier. There's been a nasty stomach flu working its way through the kids at school and they were kind enough to share it. While I managed to avoid the cataclysmic puking episodes, the other symptom led to me getting fairly dehydrated. So dehydrated in fact, that it made my blood pressure go bonkers which in turn started me having some irregular but strong contractions. My blood pressure usually hovers around the 115/75 range, so seeing numbers like 140/110 was scary. On Thursday at work I just felt "off" and emailed my OB who asked if I could get my BP checked at school or if I could run over to their local office and have it checked. Our public health nurse who is one of those old-school nurses who know everything about everything took one look at me and said "Oh honey, you need to go home" before she even checked my BP. So once she got that scary number, I was sent packing to the OB who sent me to the hospital for monitoring, blood work and fluids.
Luckily all the bloodwork came back negative for anything scary, and after a couple of hours of fluids the contractions tapered off and I felt much better. But I still got sent home on bed rest and OB said she'd be surprised if I was still pregnant by the end of next week. On Friday I enjoyed having a day of rest, to be honest, and today I've been uncomfortable and just trying to keep the stress down so I don't ratchet up the bp again.
But of course, my mother can't allow that. Oh no. For some reason the woman has decided that me having children is somehow all about her. Yesterday I was accused of having had the baby and not telling her. Today I have enjoyed her standard passive-aggressive emails about how "inconvenient" it is for me not to answer her phone calls to make me decribe everything my 2 year old has done or said in the last 48 hours. Inconvenient. INCONVENIENT. Why do I have to make anything about my life convenient for you, Mother? Why is the birth of my child something that should revolve around you and what's easy for YOU?!? I don't see a single reason why it should, so therefore it's not going to. You are not the only grandmother on earth whose grandchildren live out of driving distance. I am not under any OBLIGATION to make travel plans for you. You're a big girl. As my dear friend would say, scratch your mad place and get glad.
Luckily my husband has risen to the occasion and will be informing her that I will not be talking to or answering text messages from her or anyone else until after the baby is born and if she wants updates on anything, she will have to embrace the "inconvenience" of calling him instead.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
The Dangers of Christmas
After using a small crane to lower myself onto the floor this morning in order to wrap the only gifts I've managed to purchase so far this holiday season, I've come to the realization that Christmas is dangerous, ya'll. And not for the reasons you might think.
Sure, we hear about the folks who slice their finger or hand open on a blister package that requires a nuclear reaction to open and heading to the emergency room for stitches. There's the unfortunate Turkey Fryer accidents. There's the dissolution of marriages and disowning of children by parents who were up until 4am assembling the tiny plastic parts of a Barbie Malibu Dream Castle. But for pregnant kindergarten teachers, there is even more peril.
First of all, there's the hormonal issue. I cried the other night because the pork chops I had in the oven weren't browning the way I wanted them to because they were thicker than the ones I usually buy. I collapsed into a bewildered heap of sobs over that disaster. That has nothing to do with Christmas, of course, but how can you expect someone who cries over pork chops to be able to drive while you're playing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" on the radio, Light 98? Or "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch?" I mean, these songs are FILLED with emotional triggers like "Your soul is an appalling dung heap overflowing with the most disgusting assortment of garbage imaginable." Sobs, I tell you. I carry mascara in my purse so that once I get to school I can somewhat reassemble myself.
Of course, that doesn't last long. And why? Pants. They keep caring if I'm wearing pants to school. Yes, I wear a dress as often as possible and recently made the foray into leggings and longer shirts, but I haven't found a way yet to wear my ACTUAL nightgown or a pair of sweatpants to school without escaping notice. And with a baby belly roughly the size of the unexplained object orbiting Mercury:
They're COMING FOR US
Pants are seriously dangerous. As a matter of fact, on Thursday I was a mere moments from taking my scissors into the stinky peed-on bathroom in my classroom and cutting the waistband on the maternity pants I was wearing so that I could stand to wear them for another moment. I had a whole plan to extend them involving duct tape and my stapler, but luckily the Husband showed up with my sweatpants just in time for my pants to escape Mythbusters style rigging.
THEN this morning I got the proofs of The Squirt's 2 year old photo shoot with a talented photographer friend. The kid is spectacular, I must say. Even the dogs look cute in the shots they invaded. Me, not so much. I look like a whale. An actual, verifiable, World Wildlife Association Profiling Endangered Species. There is only one of my kind: The Central Virginian Mommious Colossus. I am SNL's Land Shark's Whale counterpart. And this is particularly troubling because I've really not gained that much weight at all (nneighborhood of 10lbs, sometimes as much as 15 depending on when you weigh me). So this served to completely destroy the picture of myself in my head that I have where I am a Whole Lot Thinner Than I Actually Am. Tears. Oh yeah. Tears.
And now I'm trying to plan some merriment for my kindergarten friends for next week, and it's frustrating because I have a Jehovah's Witness in my class. They take the fun out of everything and replace it with Watchtower pamphlets. This is the first year I haven't spent the whole month of December playing my collection of Robert Shaw carols and such on the CD player in my classroom instead of my usual "Piano's Most Relaxing Hits" albums.
On the slightest end of positive, this week I only had ONE unexplained pee puddle appear on my classroom floor, and only had to make one awkward phone call home to a parent because his son was masturbating on his rest mat during naptime. Oh yeah, baby.
Sure, we hear about the folks who slice their finger or hand open on a blister package that requires a nuclear reaction to open and heading to the emergency room for stitches. There's the unfortunate Turkey Fryer accidents. There's the dissolution of marriages and disowning of children by parents who were up until 4am assembling the tiny plastic parts of a Barbie Malibu Dream Castle. But for pregnant kindergarten teachers, there is even more peril.
First of all, there's the hormonal issue. I cried the other night because the pork chops I had in the oven weren't browning the way I wanted them to because they were thicker than the ones I usually buy. I collapsed into a bewildered heap of sobs over that disaster. That has nothing to do with Christmas, of course, but how can you expect someone who cries over pork chops to be able to drive while you're playing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" on the radio, Light 98? Or "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch?" I mean, these songs are FILLED with emotional triggers like "Your soul is an appalling dung heap overflowing with the most disgusting assortment of garbage imaginable." Sobs, I tell you. I carry mascara in my purse so that once I get to school I can somewhat reassemble myself.
Of course, that doesn't last long. And why? Pants. They keep caring if I'm wearing pants to school. Yes, I wear a dress as often as possible and recently made the foray into leggings and longer shirts, but I haven't found a way yet to wear my ACTUAL nightgown or a pair of sweatpants to school without escaping notice. And with a baby belly roughly the size of the unexplained object orbiting Mercury:
They're COMING FOR US
Pants are seriously dangerous. As a matter of fact, on Thursday I was a mere moments from taking my scissors into the stinky peed-on bathroom in my classroom and cutting the waistband on the maternity pants I was wearing so that I could stand to wear them for another moment. I had a whole plan to extend them involving duct tape and my stapler, but luckily the Husband showed up with my sweatpants just in time for my pants to escape Mythbusters style rigging.
THEN this morning I got the proofs of The Squirt's 2 year old photo shoot with a talented photographer friend. The kid is spectacular, I must say. Even the dogs look cute in the shots they invaded. Me, not so much. I look like a whale. An actual, verifiable, World Wildlife Association Profiling Endangered Species. There is only one of my kind: The Central Virginian Mommious Colossus. I am SNL's Land Shark's Whale counterpart. And this is particularly troubling because I've really not gained that much weight at all (nneighborhood of 10lbs, sometimes as much as 15 depending on when you weigh me). So this served to completely destroy the picture of myself in my head that I have where I am a Whole Lot Thinner Than I Actually Am. Tears. Oh yeah. Tears.
And now I'm trying to plan some merriment for my kindergarten friends for next week, and it's frustrating because I have a Jehovah's Witness in my class. They take the fun out of everything and replace it with Watchtower pamphlets. This is the first year I haven't spent the whole month of December playing my collection of Robert Shaw carols and such on the CD player in my classroom instead of my usual "Piano's Most Relaxing Hits" albums.
On the slightest end of positive, this week I only had ONE unexplained pee puddle appear on my classroom floor, and only had to make one awkward phone call home to a parent because his son was masturbating on his rest mat during naptime. Oh yeah, baby.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
There's a Madonna Song in Here Somewhere
With The Squirt, I elected to have an induction and it failed. I ended up having a c-section which was neither the most or least enjoyable experience of my life.
What was the least enjoyable, you may ask? Well, it just might be the phone calls I get from various personages taking me on a delightful passive aggressive guilt trip revolving around the birth of my children!
When The Squirt was born, I was teaching the worst 5th grade class ever assembled by a soulless, neckless demon from the depths of Hell. I was compounding the problem, I'm sure, by being exhausted, uncomfortable and grouchy but truthfully passing the time with a pack of rabid babboons bent on giving me the Ebola virus would have been a more enjoyable way to spend my day. Then the phone calls began.
One side of the family remained willfully ignorant about the details of pregnancy and childbirth and didn't seem to understand why neither me nor my beloved obstetrician could pinpoint with any accuracy when exactly she would be born and how much she would weigh. I'm already getting the "have they told you how much she weighs?" questions again, and this time I'm answering with the information from my What Not to Expect app..... so today? About 4lbs. "Why is she so small?!? Is there something wrong?" Um no. Did you think that as soon as the sperm hit the egg a 7.5lb baby magically appears? I am under the impression that she grows. You know, gets larger every day. And if someone has invented an intrauterine scale then I certainly haven't heard about it. Le sigh. Last time someone expected to be able to videotape the birth and didn't really want to listen to my objections, so I got the nurses to tell people that nobody other that my husband was allowed in the room because of the Swine Flu outbreaks. L&D nurses are GREAT liars.
So one cold and rainy afternoon in November, I was forced to abandon the rabid babboon hoarde to field a series of passive aggressive phone calls from my own mother and grandmother. It appears that my mother had decided that my unwillingness to consult the Dark Arts to divine when my child would be born so that she could be assured of being present, and my inability to secure travel plans for picking her up from the airport when there were no day or time parameters to consider was code for me saying I Don't Like You And Don't Want You To Ever See My Child. Then to add insult to injury, I expressed interest in spending the last few days of the husband and my life as a couple as, you know, a COUPLE. Without houseguests. I am mortifyingly selfish it seems. Either that or my mother is secretly a 2 year old.
In the last few weeks, I've been trying to make it clear to various family that I don't intend to schedule a C-Section for the birth of kidlet #2. It does not appear to be sinking in for some, but others have decided that I am intentionally inconveniencing them so that I can be sure that they cannot be present when she is born. Out of spite, you know. I am spitefully choosing to give birth in the intended way if possible. Egg on my face, right?
My general feeling on the matter is this: I have a 2 year old. I will have a newborn. I would vastly prefer to avoid major abdominal surgery and the recovery involved. After a C-Section, you're not allowed to pick up anything heavier than your baby for like 2 weeks. Someone explain that to a 2 year old, please? All she would know is that Mama will hold the baby but not her, and I can't hurt her like that if I have the power to possibly avoid the issue at all.
Since I AM the one who will be giving birth to this little Riverdancer, I can't say I particularly care about making it convenient for anyone else. And it really chaps my ass that I'm dealing with passive aggressive guilt trips because my decisions regarding my body, my baby, and my family are inconvenient for people's travel plans. As far as I'm concerned there is exactly ONE other person on earth who has any actual right to be present for the birth of this little girl, and that would be her daddy. If it works out that the more long distance family is able to be there, great. If not, I'm not responsible for that.
So my decision to VBAC if possible is NOT made out of spite to you, Mother. Nor is it intended to relay some secret message of hatred towards you. It is about ME prefering NOT to be cut open and sewn back together when I have this handy dandy doorway all biologically ready for my child to exit. Why smash a hole in the wall if there's already a door to walk through? Of course, if medically necessary I'm not opposed to having another c-section, but it's nobody's decision but mine and my doctor's.
Oh, January, you cannot come swiftly enough.
To Quote Her Madgesty Herself: And I'm not sorry..... it's human nature.... and I'm not sorry, I'm not your b!tch, don't lay your $hit on me.......
What was the least enjoyable, you may ask? Well, it just might be the phone calls I get from various personages taking me on a delightful passive aggressive guilt trip revolving around the birth of my children!
When The Squirt was born, I was teaching the worst 5th grade class ever assembled by a soulless, neckless demon from the depths of Hell. I was compounding the problem, I'm sure, by being exhausted, uncomfortable and grouchy but truthfully passing the time with a pack of rabid babboons bent on giving me the Ebola virus would have been a more enjoyable way to spend my day. Then the phone calls began.
One side of the family remained willfully ignorant about the details of pregnancy and childbirth and didn't seem to understand why neither me nor my beloved obstetrician could pinpoint with any accuracy when exactly she would be born and how much she would weigh. I'm already getting the "have they told you how much she weighs?" questions again, and this time I'm answering with the information from my What Not to Expect app..... so today? About 4lbs. "Why is she so small?!? Is there something wrong?" Um no. Did you think that as soon as the sperm hit the egg a 7.5lb baby magically appears? I am under the impression that she grows. You know, gets larger every day. And if someone has invented an intrauterine scale then I certainly haven't heard about it. Le sigh. Last time someone expected to be able to videotape the birth and didn't really want to listen to my objections, so I got the nurses to tell people that nobody other that my husband was allowed in the room because of the Swine Flu outbreaks. L&D nurses are GREAT liars.
So one cold and rainy afternoon in November, I was forced to abandon the rabid babboon hoarde to field a series of passive aggressive phone calls from my own mother and grandmother. It appears that my mother had decided that my unwillingness to consult the Dark Arts to divine when my child would be born so that she could be assured of being present, and my inability to secure travel plans for picking her up from the airport when there were no day or time parameters to consider was code for me saying I Don't Like You And Don't Want You To Ever See My Child. Then to add insult to injury, I expressed interest in spending the last few days of the husband and my life as a couple as, you know, a COUPLE. Without houseguests. I am mortifyingly selfish it seems. Either that or my mother is secretly a 2 year old.
In the last few weeks, I've been trying to make it clear to various family that I don't intend to schedule a C-Section for the birth of kidlet #2. It does not appear to be sinking in for some, but others have decided that I am intentionally inconveniencing them so that I can be sure that they cannot be present when she is born. Out of spite, you know. I am spitefully choosing to give birth in the intended way if possible. Egg on my face, right?
My general feeling on the matter is this: I have a 2 year old. I will have a newborn. I would vastly prefer to avoid major abdominal surgery and the recovery involved. After a C-Section, you're not allowed to pick up anything heavier than your baby for like 2 weeks. Someone explain that to a 2 year old, please? All she would know is that Mama will hold the baby but not her, and I can't hurt her like that if I have the power to possibly avoid the issue at all.
Since I AM the one who will be giving birth to this little Riverdancer, I can't say I particularly care about making it convenient for anyone else. And it really chaps my ass that I'm dealing with passive aggressive guilt trips because my decisions regarding my body, my baby, and my family are inconvenient for people's travel plans. As far as I'm concerned there is exactly ONE other person on earth who has any actual right to be present for the birth of this little girl, and that would be her daddy. If it works out that the more long distance family is able to be there, great. If not, I'm not responsible for that.
So my decision to VBAC if possible is NOT made out of spite to you, Mother. Nor is it intended to relay some secret message of hatred towards you. It is about ME prefering NOT to be cut open and sewn back together when I have this handy dandy doorway all biologically ready for my child to exit. Why smash a hole in the wall if there's already a door to walk through? Of course, if medically necessary I'm not opposed to having another c-section, but it's nobody's decision but mine and my doctor's.
Oh, January, you cannot come swiftly enough.
To Quote Her Madgesty Herself: And I'm not sorry..... it's human nature.... and I'm not sorry, I'm not your b!tch, don't lay your $hit on me.......
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