The Arrogance of Perfection

A recent (like 20 minutes ago) conversation has me thinking…we like to claim we are accepting of all people, but who do we really accept at face value?

I have a child that is diagnosed, after EKG’s, interviews, questionnaires filled out by myself and teachers, and a physical, with ADHD-Inattentive Type by a pediatric neurologist.  He is also diagnosed with Dyspraxia and Sensory Processing issues.

The armchair doctors, however, have doubts about any of these issues, for any child.

I will not tell you that my child has always been the image of perfection.  He has not.  For goodness sakes, when he was 3, there was nothing you could do to convince me he was not the child of Satan, especially the day he put every towel we owned in the toilet when he was 3 because I told him it was bathtime, and I ended up telling my husband to go in the bathroom and clean him because I was done, and I actually left the house, walking the neighborhood bawling my eyes out.

And that was an easy day.

I, every year, at our annual doctors appointment (my preemie NEVER gets sick, thank GOD!) would tell the doctor I thought there might be issues.  Every year I was told he was “just a boy.”  Till the year he was THIS CLOSE to failing 5^th grade, and I went for a special appointment.  To have an actual diagnosis, by a reputable doctor, of ADHD, you have to be having particular issues in at least 2 areas of life.  Though he always had them at home, and actually had them at school for several years, they became much more apparent in the 5^th grade.  That, and that we actually had a teacher who realized he was not stupid but had issues (and yes, I’m sorry, well not sorry, if this offends anyone, but many teachers just assume you have idiot parents and are doomed to be a dumb student, at least the ones my son had), and helped me to get  the paperwork done.

We had occupational therapy and neurological evaluations.  And then we had the thing that helped my son get what he needed at school – a diagnosis.

You get mixed feelings.  Feelings that, wow, my child has something wrong..  And then the opposite feelings that, wow, now we can actually convince people he is not dumb, not lazy, not the victim of a parent that doesn’t want to discipline him.

And then you feel the anger at those who tell you that your child doesn’t have a real illness.

Skipping ahead of much heartache and struggling, I eventually discovered a private school that was exclusively for children with learning disabilities. They were willing to accept my child, though he was failing 6^th grade.  They accepted a McKay scholarship, which my son was eligible for because I had eventually convinced the school to give him a 504 plan (though they wouldn’t give an IEP which is probably what he really needed, but apparently I don’t know the politics to getting one.) Iapplied for one, I got it, and it’s been smooth sailing.  The kid who actually failed 6^th grade and repeated it his first year at his new school has had ONE B in the last 2 plus years, is in the most advanced classes, and tested at 12^th grade level on his standardized test.

I am telling you all of this to lead to this point…no one makes fun of him.

No one.  And he makes fun of no one.  This is a school where everyone has an issue, everyone.  They are far in range. But all of the kids accept the others.  Even in middle and high school classes.  I’ve volunteered at or attended several special events, and I can tell you this is not what you would see in your average middle or high school.

These kids all know they go to that school for a reason, and so do their classmates.  I think that is what makes them so humble and accepting, and WONDERFUL.  They realize they are not perfect, and they realize that they are still great kids despite that.

If only the rest of us could.

None of us our “better” than others, though many find themselves to be superior.  We all fall short.  Every single one of us.  None of us are perfect.  None of us have the capability to be.

God bless those kids at my son’s school who get that. They are the ones who should be our examples

.

It's hard to convince people of that, I've had enough conversations with people to prove that. That’s why they have wine.

I Am Grateful

As I woke up this morning, earlier than I would have liked, to start preparing Thanksgiving dinner, I realized just how blessed I really am.

I am grateful that my oven now actually heats to the temperature it says it does.

I am grateful for a company called Dinner Done exists to help me out, not only with Thanksgiving side dishes, but with full dinners during those times when our life is too hectic and I only have a small amount of time to get things done.  I may still have to cook it, but all the ingredients are right there, and they are fresh, natural, and healthy.

I am grateful for the acne pads I use every morning on my face, because pimples inside of wrinkles are not pretty.

I am grateful that although I have gained weight, I can afford new clothes to fit me.

I am grateful that we were out of sugar and I didn’t realize it, because that means that we don’t depend on it daily in our diet.

I am thankful that Winn Dixie was open today so I could buy some more sugar, because my teenager just would not consider it to be Thanksgiving without his homemade cranberry sauce.  It also meant I got in some steps towards the Fitbit challenge that my friend, Christine, started for Thanksgiving day!

I am grateful for Christine, for trying to keep us on track, because Lord knows I would otherwise just try to eat as much as possible and be lazy.

I am grateful for the big smile I will see on my teen’s face when he realizes I bought him sparkling grape juice, and that will probably occur 10 minutes after I post this blog.

I am grateful that there was no school this week, and didn’t have to spend 2 plus hours a day in the car.

I am grateful that I have a car that I absolutely love, a lime green Mustang, to spend those two hours a day in when I need to.

I am grateful that though school is a bit of a drive away, that it exists and essentially “saved” my son both academically and socially.

I am grateful that God gave me a wonderful family, wonderful friends, and an amazing son and husband, and that they all have someone to share their Thanksgiving with.

And, of course, I’m grateful for wine.  And all this other stuff is why they have it!

Life doesn’t have to be extravagant to be great.  We all have a list that can go on much longer than this, with just the simple things.  Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Pre-Flight Instructions

You know how when you get on a plane, they instruct you, in case of emergency, to use your air mask on yourself before using it on your child? (Ha, this is the second situation this week I'm using this analogy for!) Well, that is because you need to take care of yourself first to be in a condition to be able to take care of someone else.

It goes against every instinct you have as a parent. It makes you feel like you are being selfish and uncaring. It doesn't seem like the "compassionate" thing to do. Yet, it is necessary.

Our country's first priority is to protect and take care of it's own citizens. We need to make sure we've got that taken care of, before we can reach out and help others.

If we defy that instruction to use the air mask on ourselves first, we may risk the lives of both ourselves and our child.

If we deny that we need to take care of our own citizens, we are risking the livelihoods of both them and those we would like to help, if not the lives of both.

Wanting to scrutinize who comes in to our country, be it refugees, people casually crossing our southern border illegally, or all of those who actually go through the lengthy process to come here legally, is not paranoid or stupid. Wanting to make sure we can take care of our homeless and needy American citizens, especially those who served in our military, before we help others, is not uncompassionate.

Right now, we've often been failing in both protecting and taking care of our own citizens. Many people are concerned that this is going to get even worse. Calling them names, calling them stupid, saying they don't care, how is that going to help? They need to feel secure in the choices they are making. If your child found someone to be scary because the way they dressed was not what they were used to seeing, would you call them an uncompassionate, hating, idiotic Nazi? Or would you express you lovingly explain to them why you feel how you do, while acknowledging that fear is a normal reaction to the unknown?

Personally, I think our greatest physical threat comes from our we-only-pretend-to-be-protected borders, rather than from refugees. Someone who wants to do harm isn't going to care about the legality of getting here to do it. I am, however, concerned that we don't have all the resources to take care of people from other countries when I pass people begging on street corners every day. You can call me selfish, scared, xenophobic, whatever you want for that, but it doesn't make it so. I just tend to look at the big picture and find where there could be things that could cause a plan to not work as we want. There are plenty of other people who think like I do. I think it is wonderful that people want to help the others of the world, but the Spock side of me just sometimes wonders if it is practical.

I will use the air mask on myself first.

That's why they have wine.

You Know You Are A Baseball Mom When....

You know you are a Baseball Mom when:

1.        Your weekly laundry consists of a load of nothing but baseball pants.

2.       You own a bar of Fels-Naptha.

3.       You have something in your home called “the baseball bag” that gets taken to every game, double header, and tournament, and even sometimes practice, but it contains no actual baseball equipment.  Ours contains sunscreen, bug spray, towels (for wet bleachers or balls), ibuprofen, Benadryl, snacks, umbrellas, and a magazine or two. 

4.       You have yelled out the words “Protect the plate!”

5.       You own t-shirts or jewelry with your child’s team name or jersey number.

6.       You feel like you should own stock in Gatorade.

7.       You know what the infield fly rule is.

8.       Sleeping till 9 am on a Saturday is an extremely rare luxury.

9.       You have cleaned clay from your car, your carpet, or your own shoes.

10.   You have a network of other baseball parents and players you truly consider extended family, because you probably spend more time with them than your actual extended family!

Most of all, you know you are a baseball mom because you love watching your child play and are tremendously proud of them.

A toast to my fellow baseball moms!  That’s why they have wine.

It's Time For Some ADHD Awareness

October is ADHD Awareness Month.  So, that is what I would like to do, raise awareness.

Why do I think it needs to be raised?  Daily, I see the memes on social media implying that ADHD is not a real disability, but rather a lack of discipline.  From strangers, this is mildly annoying.  From people who know my child, many of whom will testify to what a respectful, well-behaved, all around GOOD kid he is, it is downright infuriating.

1.        ADHD is not a synonym for hyperactivity.  Hyperactivity can exist without ADHD, ADHD can exist (yep, it really can, it’s called ADHD-Inattentive type – used to be called ADD-  and is what my son has) without hyperactivity.

2.       People with ADHD have difficulty with executive functioning.  Executive functioning includes tasks that help us learn new information, remember and retrieve information we've learned in the past, and use this information to solve problems of everyday life.

3.       ADHD cannot be cured by a spanking, eliminating artificial coloring or gluten, or taking away sugar.  If your child’s quality of life improves after any of these things, he a.  wasn’t disciplined, b. had a food sensitivity or allergy, or c. was suffering from sugar crash.  Ironically, my child is actually allergic to artificial food coloring.  Removing it from his diet keeps his face from swelling, but it doesn’t help him to follow multi-step directions or remember to bring his homework home.

4.       Medication does not, or at least should not, make a child a “zombie.”  If your child cannot function on their medication, or appears to be something from the Walking Dead, newsflash…they are on the wrong medication or too high of a dose.  The correct medication does not change a child’s personality.  It does not make them stoned or high.  It just helps their brain to filter out all the extraneous information so they can concentrate on what they need to.  Sometimes it takes some trial or error to get the right medication.  It is very similar to other medications that work on the brain, like anti-depressants, in that certain ones don’t work for certain people.  You have to find the right one.  A child on the correct medication is a higher-functioning, happier human being.  And trust me, it doesn’t take away their sarcasm, dark sense of humor, athletic abilities, or passions, if that is what they were BEFORE the meds.  It actually helps them fine hone those “skills.”  It does help them focus, remember, follow directions, and enjoy life.

5.       Parents don’t make the decision to medicate their child because they are lazy.  Frustrated, out of options, crying every night in the bathroom because they feel incapable of helping their child to be a happy kid, fed up with standardized testing, hurt because no one invites their child to parties or overnights, and a huge amount of love, yes, this leads to that decision.  Laziness?  You show me any parent of a child with ADHD, and I will show you some of the strongest, most able to handle a crisis, compassionate, and headstrong people you will ever meet.  God gave me this child because he knew I needed the ability to stand up for myself and not take any crap and accomplish ANYTHING that needs to get done, and, my goodness, I now certainly have that ability.  And I’m able to model that for my child.

6.       People with ADHD are not stupid.  In fact, they are usually exceptionally intelligent.  They have so much going on in their brains sometimes it is hard for them to filter out the important stuff sometimes, but they are ALWAYS thinking.  School can be difficult because they may be taught in a way that is not the way they learn, or they may just be bored.  They need to be challenged and stimulated to learn.  Putting them in the back of the class and assuming they will have nothing to say is a huge disservice not only to them, but to all those that they could effect in their lives if only given the chance.

7.       People with ADHD often have obsessions or activities they are hyperfocused on.  My own child cycles through his obsessions….games, magic tricks, Legos, play dough, WWE, and Crayola marker maker are just a few that have consumed him, been completely forgotten about, and then consumed him again.  Baseball is his hyperfocus.  When he steps on a field, he notices nothing else.  He memorizes signs quickly, picks up newly taught skills with ease, comes home and accurately tells me his teammates batting stats for the game (if only they taught math in terms of baseball stats), and actually focuses even better if the other team heckles him when he is pitching.

8.       Kids with ADHD often have some sensory sensitivities.  Things get overwhelming.  That meltdown in the middle of Disney World is likely not from lack of discipline or a need for a nap, but rather from overstimulation.  Crowds, noises, smells, sights, sounds….We go through life doing things on off days or early hours before there are crowds, leaving as soon as the first sign of overstimulation appears (luckily my child is now a teen and can tell me when he needs to leave), and just not doing particular things. We tend to get nice hotel rooms when traveling because we spend a lot of time there! For my son, even the grocery store is a horrible place.  When he was a toddler, he threw huge tantrums and threw things out of the cart.  As a teen he stays home, but can tolerate an under 20 minute run for a list of items you must specify to him before going inside (and he does help to get them quickly) in a pinch.  He’s not being a brat, he just knows his limits.  If we do something like a professional baseball game, we get there EARLY, while we can walk the stadium and find our seats and get food without many people around, and once he sits down, he does not get up again until it’s over (well, usually almost over, so we can get out before the crowds!).  The overstimulation can be literally painful.

9.       While there may be some children that are diagnosed ADHD that shouldn’t be, it really isn’t a process that consists of telling your pediatrician your child has ADHD and they hand you some meds.  My child is treated by a pediatric neurologist.  We had to get an occupational therapy evaluation, an EEG, a physical exam, an interview, blood tests, and questionnaires filled out by me and by his teachers as part of the process.  He has to see his doctor every 3-4 months, and every month I have to drive across town to pick up a written prescription for his medication (they can’t be called in to a pharmacy, nor are refills allowed, as they are considered a controlled substance).  I have to find a pharmacy that can actually fill his medication (there are federal regulations on the percentage of controlled substances, regardless of what it is, that can be dispensed by a pharmacy.  Once they are past it, that’s it…and the chain pharmacies have their own additional ridiculous policies, such as that you can’t bring in a new prescription until 28 days after the last was filled, and then they won’t fill it for 72 hours…leaving your child without meds one day every month). And the GENERIC version of the medication my son takes is over $160 per month.  It’s not a fun, cheap, or stress-free process.  People don’t have their child diagnosed just for the hell of it.

In summary, those memes and comments and jokes are a bunch of BS.  If you know me, think about that 14 year old boy you know, and how he feels when he sees and hears that stuff.  If you don’t, think about the child I’m sure you know somewhere with the same diagnosis.  There are some very wonderful kids out who you could be encouraging instead of putting down.

That’s why they have wine.

Sometimes A Parent Just Needs To Be Heard

It’s that time of the year…that time where are there a lot of strong feelings.  For some, those are feelings of dread, for others relief, for others worry that their children our growing just way too quickly.  Yep, it’s back to school.

It’s also that time of year where you see a ton of articles, blogs, posts, and comments about underpaid teachers, overworked teachers, lack of appreciation for teachers, how difficult it is to be a teacher, teachers needing to buy their own supplies, and the terrible parent’s that teachers have to deal with.

I get all that.  Someone who sings a few songs they didn’t even write themselves can be a billionaire, while a person that is supposed to be helping to prepare our children for their futures is buying their shoes at Walmart.  Teachers often do preparation at home, after school or on the weekends.  There are children who are raised without discipline that can be disruptive to a classroom.  There are parents who refuse to believe that anything their children do can possibly be blamed on their children.

However, I’d like to write something from the perspective of parents, because I think many of us can be misunderstood. 

1.  We don’t live in a bubble with our “special snowflake” of a child.  We have problems too.  And if that problem is with our child, we might actually be able to impart some knowledge on how he is best dealt with, and when we try to tell you it is for both his AND your benefit, it is not an insult.  All kids are different.  Every single one of them.  Your biggest source of knowledge about each of those individuals are the people that live with them.

2.  Lots of jobs are underpaid.  You can pretty safely assume a large part of the parents you deal with are.  A $200 school supply list for each child, each year, can be a very stressful, if not impossible, task to complete.  And if the list contains something that can only be found at one store across town, from noon till 2 pm, and we got the list the night before, we are trying very, very, very hard not to break down in the wine aisle of Target in a puddle of tears, begging for a corkscrew.

3.  I may show up in shorts and a t-shirt in the drop off and pick up line, talking on the phone and signaling to my child to shush when he gets in the car.  That obvious-to-you self-involvement is actually a professional mom who started her day logged in to her computer 30 minutes before the drive to school, because she works from home.  I’m often on work calls or in a teleconference in the car, even though pick-up time is technically my lunch hour.  I go back home and work till at least 5, sometimes it can be midnight.  I’m salaried, and don’t get paid overtime for the hours beyond 40 I work each week, but I’m lucky I can work those extra hours at my home.  My husband, who works 60 hours a week, also salaried so is paid for 40, does not have that luxury.  We’re fairly typical parents.  In between all that, we all help with homework, projects, and school friend drama, and we cook dinner and make sure our children have clean clothes for school and get to their sports practices and occasionally even squeeze in five minutes to use the bathroom.  Sometimes a science project is due the same day as a work project and we are operating on 2 hours of sleep.  If we forgot to sign the agenda book, it’s probably because we were overwhelmed by the dog eating the table leg and we didn’t get our coffee made, not because we don’t care.

4.  We want the classroom to have discipline.  We want our children to gain knowledge.  We WANT to know if they are having problems in either of those areas.  I would love for you to call me, or send me an email, to let me know he might need extra help in some area.   Not finding out till we’ve gotten the report card with an “F” makes me feel like no one cares.  I need to know BEFORE the test, I can’t help with something I know nothing about.  I may not be a teacher, but I actually still know some stuff, and if I don’t know the specific topic, I do know how to Google and figure it out.  I may be busy and forgot to brush my hair and put my pants on backwards, but I do love my child enough to do what I need to do to help him with anything.  That also includes behavior.  If my child jumps up and down and turns in a circle and it’s not allowed, I want to know.  We have expectations in our home, and it’s hard to enforce them without knowledge of the infractions.

5.  We know there are pain-in-the-rear parents.  Their children play at our house or on our kids’ teams.  We don’t, thankfully, absorb their personalities by being around them however.  Most of us are pretty nice people.  If I curse at you and tell you that there is no way my child could have thrown a wad of paper across the room, think what you will.  Otherwise, please give me a chance.  And a glass of wine can help if it’s really bad.

6.  Some of us have had experiences with former teachers that left a very bad taste in our mouths.  Things like calling us in for a mandatory conference, and then needing a physical description of my child to know who they are because their name provides no recognition.  Things like not showing up at a mandatory conference that was called.  Things like telling my child that he is not smart enough for a book in the library, though he actually reads above that level.  Things like not knowing that a child even has an IEP or 504 plan after teaching him a whole quarter. Things that make us just a little scared at the beginning of each school year.  Be warm and open to us, listen to what we have to say, we have real worries.  That understanding, that acknowledgement, that validation, THAT is what lets me know you truly have faith in your own abilities as a teacher.

I do thank teachers for what they do, I’m sure it is an exhausting job.  I love all of my son's teachers, we have not had an issue with one in many years.  But some days I’d just like to be understood and appreciated as a parent, and in the past that may have made some real differences in our lives. We'd all be better off if we stay on the same team.

That’s why they have wine.

God is Great, Wine is Good, and People are Crazy

During my lunch hour today, I ran out to do a few errands.

First, I stopped for gas since my tank was empty.  The tank in my sports car, the 5^th sports car I have owned.  I know moms are supposed to drive minivans or SUV’s, but I would not own one if you gave it to me free.  Just the thought of it is making me a bit nauseous.     

Next, I stopped at CVS.  In looking for airplane acceptable toiletries for my son and my husband, they didn’t have the men’s toiletries separated from the women’s in the travel-size aisle.  I managed to find the men’s deodorant in 2.74568988 seconds.

I then went to another aisle to get the only school supplies we still needed, folders.  The pink ones with the fairies and the ones with the kittens were all mixed in the same pile with the ones with footballs and the ones with with superheroes.  Same with the spiral notebooks.  There were no labels telling me which were for boys and which were for girls.  What is a mom to do?  Well, if my son was younger, I would have picked up a couple with kittens and a couple with footballs because he would have loved them both, alas he has plain folders of certain colors on the supply list from school.  I did almost buy myself one with Minions, just because I like them.  I don’t know if they are really “meant” for 47 year old women who don’t need school folders, but, well, so?

Next, I went to the very limited grocery aisle, because I was trying to cut out a trip to another store, to get some tomato sauce to make tonight’s dinner.  I noticed that the fruit snacks came in all kinds of characters.  Again, however, nothing to tell me which were OK for girls and which were OK for boys.  Since they had none without artificial coloring, which my son cannot have, I skipped right over them, luckily avoiding the dilemma of trying to figure out which would not cause my child to spontaneously combust for consuming a character meant for the opposite gender.

Next it was to drop a package at UPS.  It contained the phone with the broken LCD display that needed to be returned to Motorola so as to not be charged for the free replacement they had sent.  The broken phone that I, his mom, a woman, despite it being more natural for males to be the technical wizards, had not only managed to save his pictures from despite not being able to turn on the screen, but had wiped those pictures and the personal info from the phone being sent back.

Finally, I had to stop at the pharmacy to fill my and my son’s prescriptions.  While waiting, I noticed the other items were grouped by purpose, and then alphabetically.  Stomach remedies were together, pain relievers, supplements…There was nothing there to tell me which were most helpful to males and which to females.  If I wanted to know what helped with testosterone levels, I would have had to ask one of the pharmacists.  Can you imagine?

This week it was announced that Target, one of my favorite stores as evidenced by the amount of money I have spent there, was going to stop labeling their items (excluding the clothing sections) as for girls or for boys.  No big deal, right?  After all, a Lego set is a Lego set.  Or so you would think….

There was no social media frenzy, no media-induced crisis, no coverage whatsoever about Target planning to do so.  After the fact, we are told that a mom complained to Target that they shouldn’t be labeling their toy aisles as for boys or girls. Target decided that maybe she had a point.

And the frenzy then began.  Conservatives and Christians are calling this some kind of attack on their values.  Note, please, that I am a Christian, and lean conservatively, and I see absolutely nothing wrong with what is being done at the store.  No one is attacking me.  No one is making me or my husband or my son or our friends question our gender.  No one has changed our lives ONE LITTLE BIT.  Well, maybe a little, because I now question if there is a sane person left in our country.

Honestly, I never really noticed if Target, or any store for that matter, labeled things by gender.  I guess I didn’t need a map to tell me what marketers thought was OK for my son to play with or sleep on.  It obviously was not something that I felt repressed me, nor was I offended by it, I was just merely blissfully unaware.  When I heard that it was changing, however, I thought “Well, yeah, why do we need signs distinguishing girl’s toys from boy’s toys?”  I actually read the articles about them, not just headlines or one line blurbs on Facebook.  I am actually aware of what they are doing, and I think it is in reality one of the last phase steps in recognizing that women and men are equal, and both genders have talents and likes unique to them as an individual.

For those of you who made it this far in my somewhat unusually lengthy blog, and haven’t walked away in disgust at my moral failings at not realizing that Barbies are only for girls or Hot Wheels are only for boys, Target is not re-arranging your store.  They are not mixing all the clothing together.  They are not going to make you walk to the northeast corner of the store to get the Spiderman pillowcase from the same aisle the bras are in, and then to the southwest corner to get the matching sheet.  Your child is not going to walk in happy in her frilly little pink dress clutching her baby doll, happy as a clam to be a girl, and then walk out wanting a gender change. They are simply removing the gender label on what, like it or not, are truly gender neutral things. 

I do believe that there are some traits that are more common in girls and some that are more common in boys.  There are gender differences.  For instance, girls tend to be more nurturing, boys more rough and tumble.  Girls tend to excel in language, boys in math.  The key words, however, are “common” and “tend.”  All children, all people, are individuals.  I don’t share all the same traits and likes with the woman who lives next door.  I do, however share some of the same traits my husband has, maybe even more than with my neighbor, which is one of the reasons we are married.  People all have some traits that may be more common in the other gender.  AND THAT IS OK.  It does not cause you to lose your “gender identity.”

I am a heterosexual female who wears makeup every day, likes wearing dresses, loves high heels, and always has painted toe nails.  I have absolutely no doubt that I am female, I’ve never questioned it.  I, however, am not overly feminine and pretty much am “male-brained.”  I excel, to an extreme, in math and related areas.  I am great with technology.  I can manage not only navigating Home Depot and finding the things I need all by myself, I can complete home improvement projects unassisted.  If something needs fixed, I don’t go find my husband, I just do it.  I’m the one who takes the trash out.  I love talking politics.  As aforementioned, I have a great fondness for sports cars.  I’m athletic.  I don’t own a single tube of lipstick and often cut my hair very short because I don’t like having to deal with it.   I can’t stand romance novels or non-comedic romance movies.  I love action and sports movies.  When I was a kid, I owned Hotwheels cars and tracks and would set up races with my other tomboy friends, when we weren’t playing Cowboys and Indians or climbing trees.  I’ve always had more male friends than female.  And I even have a fondness for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

My son, he is very much like me in his personality. He also is athletic, can be LOUD, is messy, loves sports, and is a pretty typical boy. He has no doubt that he is one.  However, in some areas, he possesses some of the more characteristically “female” traits that I lack, like sensitivity, empathy, language skills, and knowing how to be friends with girls. And when he was a toddler, he had dolls and toy kitchens, at his own request, despite any sign that might have been on the store aisle.

And I don’t care if any of that fits the “norm” form our genders.  We are who we are, and we know who that is.  If there is any “confusion,” it’s not on our part, it’s on the part of those who cannot understand that.

I’m pretty sure this country has crossed the line of insanity.  That’s why they have wine, and I’ll continue to buy it at Target.

Lessons From a Birthday Party

I’ve been a mom for 14 years know, and am proof that you are always still learning something new.  Some things I learned at my son’s birthday party:

1. Kids from age 8 to 18 can all have a great time together, those with special needs and those without, if you just have the right activity
2. That right activity is an inflatable waterslide.  Even a certain 47-year old one went on it while she was getting the party ready….
3. Parties can be best when they are small.  One of the reason the waterslide was so much fun was that my son wisely made the decision of “I’m only inviting a few people, that way we aren’t all just standing in line.”
4. Don’t underestimate the healthy food.  We had chips, cookies, pizza, and cupcakes.  We have leftovers of all of those.  However, the entire LARGE bowl of cut fruit was literally gone in 10 minutes.  Ditto with the drinks.  We have plenty of sweet iced tea, soda, and adult beverages remaining.  The water and the juice boxes were, however, quite popular.
5. My son has a special “in” with God.  A few weeks ago he prayed it wouldn’t rain at his last day of baseball camp, and it rained everywhere in our area but where the camp was.  Yesterday morning, the day of his outdoor party, we were predicted to have rain all day.  He stood outside and prayed it would not.  We had sun all day, though we had a deluge an hour after everyone left.  I may need to start renting him out for important outdoor occasions.
6. One of the best gifts for a teenager can be “wrapped” in an envelope.  Cash and gift cards are extremely appreciated by a teen.
7. The parents of his friends must know my disdain for certain places to shop.  Several Target cards, and not a one from Walmart!
8. Your son probably knows your fondness for certain stores.  He asked if I’d like to make an exchange with him, the Target cards for cash.
9. It works out just fine to have a mix of adults that don’t know each other, especially if the thing they have in common is their kids.
10. All the work (and money!) is worth it when your kid thanks you later approximately 27 times, and says “I love you” almost as many.

And maybe most importantly, I’ve learned that being a mom just gets greater the older your child gets.  That’s why they have wine.  I’ve got a few extra bottles laying around now…

Why I Am A Christian

Contrary to popular belief, I am not a Christian for political reasons, because I’m an idiot, because I’m perfect, because I want to feel superior, or because I want to tell other people what to do.

I am a Christian because I need God.  That is all.  I am weak, I am scared, I am so far from perfect it is not even funny, and I need Him.  I need the support, and he has always been there for me.

When I hid under a table crying because my drunk father was throwing things around, God was sitting next to me.  When I was raped two days in my dorm room the week before my freshman year at college started, He was there to let me know it wasn’t my fault.  When I was in the delivery room with a baby who was being induced prematurely because he was distressed, was upside down, backwards, and had the cord around his neck, God blew his first breath into him when he came out not breathing.

He’s never failed me, even when it temporarily feels that way.  Through every difficult thing I’ve ever encountered, He has been my constant, and He has shown me the greatness that eventually came from every bad thing that occurred.

He understands me.  He has forgiven me for every stupid decision I’ve made, every sin I committed.  There are a lot of people who believe me to be a strong person, but that strength is not mine, it is His.

I am not superior to anyone, I don’t have some greater grasp on morality, I cannot magically solve all the problems of the world.  My faith does not give me the resources to adopt every unwanted child in the world, to donate to every charity, or to perform superhuman feats, it just gives me a relationship with my Savior.

I am opposed to the idea of using Christ as a weapon, as a reason to hate, or to categorize people as bad.  We all do bad things, and when I say that it is no more condemning of anyone else than it is of myself, it is just the way things are.  I don’t teach my child that others are “sinners”, as a matter of fact I’ve never in my life used the word “sin” in any discussions regarding behavior and expectations with him, nor have they been about anyone but him and me.  I have enough trouble keeping myself straight sometimes to worry about what you are doing, not that I care to worry about what you are doing in the first place.

Do I speak for all Christians?  Of course not.  We are all individuals, and we all have an individual relationship with God, and I’m sure there are a few that don’t really have one.  But there are an awful lot of them that could write a similar blog.  Our faith is not about you, it is about ourselves.  You can choose to make fun of us or hate us or think we are the root of all your problems, but that’s an awful lot of power to give to us crazy people that believe in something imaginary.

That’s why they have wine.  For those, of course, who feel comfortable with drinking it.

If It Must Take a Village, At Least Keep The Parent In It

We live in a world where we are often told we are still in the dark ages when it comes to all things sexual, like finding a doctor to prescribe birth control or an adult to talk to a child about sex.

Why is that not the world I see?  Here in 2015, when I took my soon-to-be-13-year-old to the pediatrician last year, he was handed a form to fill out on his own, and that it would be kept confidential.  Today, a year later, when he asked me to help him with a question, the nurse quickly handed the paper back to him and told him that if he answered “No” to the previous question, to put” no” for that one (despite the fact that last year I helped him with ¾ of the questions upon his request, guess I looked like a better parent that day).

A parent is then asked to fill out a form so that the doctor can talk confidentially to the child about their answers, and the parent never has to know.

During the exam, we receive the suggestion to give our child the HPV vaccination.

None of these things are based on the maturity of the child, or even if they have reached puberty, but rather just simple age.  If you ask me, if we were in the dark ages before, we have completely swung the pendulum in the opposite direction.

I know exactly what is on that form, because I had to explain the majority of the questions last year.  It is a form concerning their drug and alcohol use and sexual activity, and obviously my child was still, well, a child, who still needs his parents to help him make decisions, even little ones like how to fill out a form.  Any awkwardness he had was not because his parent was in the room, it was because the questions themselves were beyond his maturity level.  

As far as the parental consent form, I didn’t sign it last year.  If my child can’t fill out the form on his own, he is not ready to discuss it and make decisions about it on his own.  Though I still don’t feel he is ready to make those kinds of decisions on his own, I signed it this year, because I know that he knows that.  He knows that because we talk about that stuff, he knows that because he has learned from past experience that for your parent to be able to help you with any issue, you have to tell them what it is.  He knows that rules and expectations in our house are based on our responsibility as parents to keep him healthy and keep him safe.  I know without a doubt that there would be nothing he would be afraid for the doctor to discuss with me, and as a matter of fact, that discussing with me would make him feel safer and less alone.

I understand that some kids are uncomfortable telling their parents things, but that does NOT mean that their parent is unwilling or incapable of helping them with things.  The discomfort does not relieve the parent of legal responsibility.  I can understand giving a child a third party to talk to, but I do not get keeping the information about one's own child from them.

When asked about the vaccine, I declined it, telling the doctor that was not anything we needed to worry about at this time.  

On the way home, my son thanked me for not making him get a shot, and then asked me what an HPV vaccine was for.  I told him it was a sexually transmitted disease. 

“Do they give the shot in the ARM?” 

“Yes.” 

“How do you catch it?”

I looked at him with an amused look on my face and asked, “How do you catch any SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED disease?”

“Ohhhh!  Duh!”

If you have that discussion….

Yeah, we’ve got some time.  And as a parent, I know that better than anyone else would.  I know that he spends his time playing baseball and football and basketball  and having Nerf wars, that he is in the other room right now, 12 minutes late in feeding his cat (excuse me a  second while I yell to him…) watching card trick you-tube videos and learning new tricks.  I know that he is sensitive, can worry too much, and sometimes can trust too much.  I know he is smart, funny, and often brilliant. His doctor, as much as I love him, does not know him like that.

I know who he is and what he is ready for, and I am perfectly willing and capable of helping him to navigate through his teen years, but now the world has reached a point where they are trying to take that responsibility away from me, from other parents.  The world now assumes that no parent is capable of raising their own child when it comes to matters of sex, especially if they are not giving them condoms for their 12^th birthday.

And I haven't even touched on the subject of 13 year old girls taking hormones, which are NOT harmless for everyone, being prescribed without parental knowledge...

Are all parents good at discussing things with their kids?  Do all parents care?  Probably not.  But most of us do, and we take our responsibilities seriously.  Let us keep them.  We can't help what we don't know.

That’s why they have wine.

Our Obsession With Sex

Sex.  It’s the topic everyone is fascinated with. 

It’s also the thing that causes many of our social issues:  Adultery, porn addiction, abortion, teen pregnancy, diseases, even murder and suicide.  Yet for some reason, it is the popular opinion that it is an acceptable recreational activity for teenagers in America.  And if you don’t agree, you are deemed a bad parent. 

Well, I’m a confused bad parent, because I don’t get it.

In my 47 years of life, I’ve encountered a lot of not normal sex things.  I’ve been raped, escaped from a couple other potential rapes,  I’ve been married to a porn addict, and, though I consciously block anything that even starts bringing back memories, I, and my past therapists and psychiatrists, am pretty sure I was sexually abused by someone.  Why do these kind of things happen?

In my opinion, we have a very unhealthy view of sex in this country, we think that we don’t have the ability to turn it down.  You would think that I would have issues, but I’ve had good therapists.  I actually have a very caring and supportive partner, and that is what it is really all about.  This is actually a bit of a tough subject for me to write about, because, unlike most, I believe intimacy is something that should, well, remain intimate, as does my husband.  To me, sex is an expression of feelings for your partner, not a recreational activity.  It is not something to be taken lightly.  It is not something that does not have potential consequences, consequences that you are prepared to deal with.

A 14 year old is not prepared for those consequences, even if their “progressive” parent has put them on birth control.  A 14 year old is not ready to make decisions about the risks of birth control without parental consent (and yeah, there are always risks, some with effectiveness, some that can actually affect health).   A 14 year old is certainly not prepared to decide what to do with a life that may be growing inside of them.  Yet the majority of parents say “Well, they are going to do it anyways.”

They are NOT going to do it anyways.  They ARE going to do it if you expect them to, I can pretty much guarantee that.  “Well, my mom put me on birth control, so I guess she expects me to do this, so why would I say ‘No’?” Hold higher expectations, and really trust your children.  They just might turn out to be people who can control themselves.

They are NOT going to be gorging on porn, unless you are not willing to control their internet use.  Newsflash, you ARE allowed to check your child’s phone and computer.  You ARE allowed to forbid certain sites.  You ARE allowed to explain to them how pornography distorts their perception of relationships and what actual women are like.  You ARE allowed to say, “You know what, would you want someone doing that to your mom?”

And you know something else, we are all allowed to say “No,” even us adults.  And we are all actually capable of it.  We could actually go our entire lives without sex and still survive.  It should not be what controls our bodies, our relationship with our children, or our legal policies.  We don’t have the right to it.  Nowhere in the constitution does it say “Citizens have the right to sexual intercourse”, much less without any consequences or with free or taxpayer provided methods to avoid them.

I know it’s not the popular thing to say (feel free to boycott my non-existent sponsors), but we don’t have to accept our partners watching porn, we don’t have to accept them going to strip clubs, we don’t have to assume our children are going to have sex when they are in middle school, we don’t have to put them on birth control because “they are going to do it anyways,” and we don’t have to support abortion because we think we are all incapable of controlling our own bodies.  We have other choices.  We CAN teach that there are natural, scientific, consequences of sex that are best handled by adults, we CAN expect our children to be children, we CAN express our hurt to our spouse when they are more turned on by women on a computer screen, we CAN save our physical expressions of intimacy for someone who actually deserves it.  We CAN take the focus off of being sexual objects by not making ourselves one.

I know there are plenty of people who will disagree with me, but just think about it. It's a lot to consider, but that’s why they have wine.

You Don't Have To Like Me

When my son was in pre-school, I got a few calls that he was having issues with another child, some of them escalating to them hitting each other. One day I got a “note” pinned to my sign in/out sheet addressed to my 3 year old, who, while this might categorize him as an underachieving child by perfect parent standards, could not read.  I read the note and it was basically about needing to be friends with everyone in the class.  I discussed the issue with my son, took away toys, gave him alternative behaviors, tried to get him to stop.  The issues continued, so I made an appointment to sit in on the class for the morning.  I discovered two children who just plain old didn’t like each other.  Their personalities were vastly different, and though they were interested in the same toys, they clearly didn’t want to play with them together.

I’ll admit, I patted myself on the back a little for not reading the not to my son, not only because I thought it was strange to write a note at 3-year old level when you clearly know only the parent can read it, but because I had that “a-ha!” moment when I thought I realized what the real issue was.  I sat my son down and talked to him about it again.

“Aiden, I can see that you don’t like “J”.  I can see that “J” doesn’t like you.  And you know what?  That is OK.”

“But the teacher says we have to be friends.”

Yep, I nailed it.

“No, no, no, no, UM, no.  You do not ever HAVE to be someone’s friend.  You have to be nice to everyone.  You need to be respectful to everyone.  You  do not have to like them.  They do not have to like you.  You do NOT have to be friends.  That is normal.  People are all different and sometimes people don’t get along, and that is perfectly OK.  If someone doesn’t like you, it doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you, or there is something wrong with them.  It is up to you to decide who is your friend.”

As adults, we tend to turn “We all have to be friends” into “You can’t make judgments!”  We mean the same thing.   And we’re wrong.

First of all, I’m not sure how someone makes it through the day without making any judgments.  A judgment is “the ability to judge, make a decision, or form an opinion objectively, authoritatively, and wisely, especially in matters affecting action; good sense; discretion.”  It’s what we mean when we tell our kids “Make good choices.”  We decide what to wear based on judgments about the weather and the occasion.  We decide what to eat based on what we like or what we find to be healthy (and determining what is healthy is also a judgment.)  We decide when to turn into traffic, where we allow our child to do something, when we select the TV show that evening for our family, all based on judgments.  Every single one.

When we decide who we want our children to have a playdate with, who we want to date, who we want to marry, or even who we want to hang out with for the evening based on judgments.  And that is OK.  We are allowed to like who we want and dislike who we want, and they can be for the stupidest reasons ever.  I actually like most people, even those vastly different than me, but there are people I don’t like because they have been repeatedly  rude to me, there are people I don’t like because they are obnoxious, there are people I don’t like because they are irresponsible, and there are people I don’t like just because their laugh annoys the crap out of me.  But I am nice, and I am respectful, and that is all I need to be. 

There are people that don’t like me because I’m too quiet, too opinionated, because because I don’t suck up to them, or I didn’t use cloth diapers..  And that is OK too. 

It’s OK to express your opinion, even when it is not the popular one.  It’s OK to be who you are, even if someone else calls you a name for it.  It’s OK for people to not like you, as long as you truly like yourself.  It’s even OK to tell someone you don’t agree with them or with their behavior, but you have to realize that the “OK” stops there, it is up to them to judge if they are OK with their life, beliefs, values, and opinions, or if they want to change them.  We can’t make everyone agree, and, if you ask me, that is an awesome thing.  Utopia would be a bit boring too me.

That’s why they have wine.  Or beer, or orange juice, or Pepsi, or water, whatever your choice is.  

And by the way, my son never had the hitting problems after that conversation.  It really is easier to understand that someone may not like you than it is to try to force them to.

Half Empty or Half Full?

In 1883, the Emancipation Proclamation was declared, by Abraham Lincoln, our first Republican President.

In 1865, the Civil War ended. 

In the 1920’s, the Ku Klux Klan had an estimated 3,000,000 – 6,000,000 members.  In 2012, it had 5000-8000, and is denounced by virtually every Christian Denomination.  I think the exception may be the wacko Westboro Baptist Church, who is actually so out there that they are denounced by the KKK.

The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed, well, obviously, in 1964.

The Voting Rights Act passed in 1965.

The Fair Housing Act passed in 1968.

Today is June 25, 2015.  2015.   Years later.

In 2015, I live on a street where the majority of people are, contrary to its meaning, minorities, and it’s a very typical middle class neighborhood.  We all live in similar houses, have similar jobs, drive similar vehicles (though I’m probably the weirdo outcast with my fluorescent green car), and lead similar lives.  All of our children play together, we lend each other lawn mowers when someone’s no longer works, and we look out for each other.  One of those families, whose son never played for any elite baseball team but that of his public school, can now be proud he made it to the MLB, an organization that no longer has separate teams for whites and non-whites.  Some of those families very well may have voted for Barack Obama, the President of the United States, our first black President.  Some of them have children or grandchildren under 5, and the majority of children under five in this country today are minorities.

Are there still people that are racist?  Sure there are.  There are also people that are sexist, homophobic, anti-whatever-religion, and that think my son is being drugged by uncaring parents because he takes medication for a neurological disorder, but there has been so much progress made in all of these areas over time, and it will continue to get better. 

Dwelling on the past, ignoring the present and any progress made in between, and placing blame on “groups” as a whole and forgetting that people are individuals, gets you nothing but negativity.  Progress is impossible with this attitude.

Realizing we have been getting better and better as time goes on, gives you hope.  Hope is the catalyst of progress.

I read something amusing recently…you can think the glass is half full, you can think the glass is half empty, but either one is missing the point, it is refillable.

You can believe that if that if the water level in that glass goes down, it will eventually be gone.  You can believe that if the water level goes down, there is at least still some left.  Or you can believe there is a faucet in the kitchen with an endless supply that fills it again and again, always having not only enough, but more.  Change doesn't have an end.

That’s why they have wine.  And my glass is refillable.

Dear Mr. President

A few weeks ago I checked my son’s phone, and found something disturbing.  Among a few other unacceptable to this strict mom things, he and his friends were calling each other the “N” word in conversations.

The only good thing is that I know my son wasn't using it to be derogatory.  He doesn't have a racist bone in his body, nor any other discriminatory kind of bone.  He is one of the most accepting people I've ever met, and I’m not just saying that because he is my child.  He just thought it was the “cool” thing to say because other kids do.  We don’t use that word in our family, we live in a very diverse community of people who get along (though reading the internet and other media, I feel like I must be living in a strange dream), so it’s just not something he’s grown up with and we've never had to have a discussion about it.

Until now.

When I explained that one of the reasons his phone was being taken away for a while was his use of that word, he really didn't seem to understand why it was so bad, after all, his black friends use it too. 

A week ago, I watched “Selma” with him, a movie depicting Martin Luther King, Jr. and the civil rights movement.  During one quite dramatic scene, the word was being thrown around in a very derogatory fashion.  I asked my son “Now do you understand why we don’t use that word?”  He looked at me with tears in his eyes and nodded.  He got it.

And then a few days later, the President, the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, uses it in a podcast.  How do I explain that?

If we want this word to go away, it needs to GO AWAY in modern day language.  Outside of historical context to teach it’s origin, it should not be spoken, written, or heard.

Mr. President, I've never been your biggest fan, your political ideology is different than mine.  However, I've always respected anyone in the office, because it is a job much more difficult than I could ever imagine, and, well, just because I’m an American.  I’m struggling now, with that respect.  I teach my child that respect is something to be earned.  I teach my child that certain actions do not earn respect.  How can I, as a Mom and as someone who respects themselves, make exceptions to my standards just because of someone’s title?  You could have been an example of a higher standard and just said, “The ‘N’ word.”  I just wrote an entire blog without using the word, and no one has questions to what I’m talking about.  It's not necessary.

That’s why they have wine.

The Internet is Full of Cray Cray.

Up until about 10 or 11 years ago, I thought I was living a pretty average, OK existence in a great country where most people got along pretty well and were too busy worrying about getting through their own day to have the time to critique everyone else’s lives.

And then I decided I wanted to take my then 3 year old to Disney World.  I got on the internet to find out some information, and found a Disney message board.

I found a lot of useful information for our trip, and I discovered a Community Board on the site that discussed various non-Disney related topics, and read through some of it.  I found it to be an interesting way to spend my time in the evenings after my son went to bed and my husband went to work for the evening.  About a week later, there was a thread posted with the title “What is the difference between a Catholic and a born again Christian?”

Well, this was a topic I had some knowledge in, so I decided to dive in and answer since no one else had.  I stated that Catholicism is a Christian denomination, while being “born again” means that you have accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior, thus were “born” into a new life.  Simple enough, I thought. Boy was I wrong.

This is when I learned, based on that answer, that I hate Catholics and think they are not going to heaven, and thought I was superior to anyone that wasn’t Christian.  I read the comments and thought “What on God’s green earth….?  People actually think like that??? Are there that many people just looking to be find some reason to criticize you?”

Throughout the years on the internet, I can say for sure that answer is “Yes.”

I now know I’m a horrible mother because my premature child was unable to breast feed, that I am ignorant because I used disposable diapers, that I think I’m superior to stay at home moms just because I’m not one, that I make a pretty good living only because of white privilege (darn, think of all that money I could have saved by not putting myself through college, not to mention the time I wasted working every day since I was 15),  that the good living I do make means I’m incapable of understanding what it’s like to struggle (because I came out of the womb making my salary…hmm, wait, maybe that is a benefit of white privilege), that I’m a lazy selfish parent because my child takes medication, that I don’t deserve pets because one of my cats is declawed, that I hate particular people because of who they sleep with because Chick-Fil-A is my kids favorite place to eat and we go there weekly….I could do this all night, but you are probably getting bored by now.

In actuality, most of my daily energy is consumed just dragging myself out of bed and on my morning run.  Then my time is spent working full time, driving my son to school and baseball practice and various random activities, making dinner, feeding the ever-hungry cats, letting out the dogs, cleaning the house, doing laundry, and drinking my well deserved glass (or two or three) of wine at the end of the day while packing lunches and paying bills and making sure my kid brushes his teeth before bed.  I honestly don’t have the time or energy, much less the desire to hate anyone or feel superior to them or bow down to them because they managed to sew a new pair of pajamas in the last hour to put on their non-medicated kid.  And this week we acquired a pet turtle that I also need to take care of, so all that time I spent reveling in my superiority is gone now too, replaced by scooping out food that wasn’t eaten and cleaning an aquarium and trying to sell enough on Ebay to make up for the $159 I had to spend on turtle supplies.

Some people like to use the internet just to make people upset about things and to divide them.  Read that stuff with a grain of salt and concentrate on what your real world is like. It really is full of great, loving, accepting people.

That’s why they have wine.

He Was Just A Child

We live practically across the street from an area middle school.  A middle school where today they cancelled end-of-year exams.  A middle school where today they were mourning one of their own.

Yesterday afternoon, in broad daylight, a 14 year old boy, at the park with a group of friends, was gunned down.  When it first was announced on the news, I panicked.  My son, in the same age range, has a friend who lives in that neighborhood.  I Googled and checked all the local news websites till the identity was named, I had to know it was not him.  At the same time the relief washed over me, so did the sadness.  Someone’s child went to the park and now was DEAD.  This family can never joke with, laugh with, hug, be proud of, hang out with, celebrate with, or, heck, he’s a teen, even yell at and get mad at this boy again.  Ever.

Today I checked the news sites looking for updates.  Here I found comments that make this child’s death even more tragic.

Racism.  It is an ugly thing that still exists in huge measure in our country.  So many statements made based solely on race and neighborhood.  All the white people who assume it is a drug deal gone bad.  All the black people who state that white people live in a bubble and can’t understand.  All the purple, yellow, orange, green, whatever people who seem to have forgotten this is a CHILD, and people of all races and colors can understand what it is to love one, no matter what their lives are like.

A child is dead.  A human being’s life was cut off way before his time.  This child could have grown up to be anything, anyone.  We all should mourn that, and want to find a way to prevent this sort of thing.

As the information breaks on this story, we find out this child was set to testify against someone in court this week.  How brave is that for a 14 year old?  Articles have stated that the community is cooperating with leads.  Yet there are those people who still can’t get it out of their head that this has to be a child “gone bad.”  Questions about why the other KIDS ran.  May I ask this question?  What the HECK would you want your own child to do???  Hang out and get shot too?  Run right back to be a witness when the perpetrator is still at large, and possibly put themselves in danger too?

Can’t we all just be human beings sometimes?  I cried this evening for this child I don’t even know.  This isn't something that is about race or area of town.  This is a child who was trying to do the right thing.  This could be any of our children, ANY of our children.  Evil doesn't discriminate, perhaps we shouldn't either.

That’s why they have wine.  I need an extra glass right now.

A Toast To My Mom

The other night, my 13 year-old son and I watched the Billboard Music Awards.  At least that is what it purported to be.  On a show where two young women of the Kardashian/Jenner family were of the handful of more conservatively dressed, I’m pretty sure this was either the Who-Can-Show-More-Skin or Who-Needs-More-Boob-Tape-To-Avoid-A-Wardrobe-Malfunction Awards.  When I got a break being from being annoyed by what is now considered award-winning music, all I could think about was “In this day when us women claim to want to be accepted for our whole selves, why do we find it more and more acceptable to exploit our physical selves?"

And then I read an article today about how Taylor Swift’s video, premiered on that show, was a tribute to feminism.  And that Taylor Swift herself was our modern day feminist all our young girls should be looking to.  And, well, she thinks that is exactly who she is.

………………………………………………………………………Eh, hum, er, excuse me.  Just writing that made me gag.  Again.

Paging Feminism, your definition is lost and looking for you.  Very lost.  So very lost.

I don’t have a daughter, but if I did, I would tell her the same thing I told my son after he asked “What the heck was that?” at the end of this supposedly world-changing video.  I would have said “Another song about how everything is someone else’s fault.  It takes two to have any kind of relationship.  It takes two to keep one, it takes two for one to not work out.  I’m not really wondering why her relationships don’t last.”  Like my son, hopefully she would chuckle at my bluntness at first, and then a moment later say, “Hmmm….”

And I haven’t even touched on the packages of tape needed for that video, or for her award night outfit….

(Right here, the males reading this are Googling.  And it’s not to read about how empowered she is.)

Yes, women should have an equal chance at success.  Yes, women should be free to express themselves through their dress.

However, contrary to popular feminist belief, we are not “empowering” our gender by showing as much skin as possible, in whatever situation available.  Rather, we have taken 139 steps, at least, backwards, screaming out “Someone look at me and find me pretty!  I need you to desire me, or I am worthless.”

We are not empowering our gender by putting down men in the name of “equality.”  If we really wanted to be equal, we would accept men for their flaws just as much as we demand they accept us for ours.

There are lots of other things we wouldn’t do either, but I’ll save that for another blog.

In the meantime, I’m grateful to my mom for teaching me to be classy, to be a lady, and to truly love myself for all the great gifts that I have.  I’m grateful to her for being a very intelligent, successful women who would never, ever exploit what she looked like to get ahead, and that she taught me that by working hard, I could be successful too.  I am grateful for her vetoing clothing that I wanted when I was a teen, as mad as it made me at the time.  I’m grateful I learned that if someone truly likes, wants, and desires you, it is because of who you are on the inside.  I’m grateful I was taught to believe in myself and that the only one who could keep me down is myself.  I’m grateful my mom showed me what it really is to be a feminist.

That’s why they have wine.

A Simple Lesson

In the third grade, my son’s teacher taught him what may be the greatest thing he’s learned in his life thus far:   If someone picks on you or insults you, say “Thank you.” 

That’s it.  The whole lesson.  Those two little words, however, carry a heck of a lot of power.

Try it sometime.  You don’t even have to say it out loud.  Just say it in your head and I bet you’ll have a hard time stifling a chuckle afterward…and you’ll have an entirely different attitude than you would if you hadn't said it.  You won’t be sitting there dwelling on their words, or look, or the fact that they ignored you, you will instead have regained your sense of control over the situation.  You will realize that the other person doesn't really have the power you would usually give them.

Then, the next time, say it out loud and really soak in that strange, but wonderful feeling, watching the look of complete confusion on their face while they are trying to figure out if you really used the word that started with "th" and not with "f."

I read an article earlier based on a very common concept in recent times….that we need to make other people behave better so that we, or our kids, or our neighbors, or some random subgroup of society, don’t feel bad.  That concept, as great as it sounds on the surface, is flawed.  We can’t force other people to change, to act how we want them to, to think differently.  You don’t have that control. You do,  however, have control over how YOU act and think, and you do have the ability to change that.

Self-esteem isn't based on what other people think of us.  It would be called What-Other-People-Think-of-Me-esteem if it was.  Change, all change, starts from within.

Stop worrying if you are saying the right thing, if your shoes are last-season, if you are having a bad hair day, if someone else has something you don’t.  Be the person that YOU are proud of, and if there is something about yourself that you don’t like, well, then change it.  Don’t make excuses, make a plan.

And say the "Th" phrase instead of the "F" one to anyone who tries to get in your way.  

Some days can still be hard, but that’s why they have wine.