No, Thanks, I'm Good

Today when I was working (I work from home), there was a knock on my door.  Two twenty-something young men in dress shirts and ties and name tags identifying them as members of the Church of Latter Day Saints, asking me if I knew about Jesus.  "I'm a Christian, and I'm busy working," I replied.  "Well, can we help you to strengthen your faith?"  "No, thanks, I'm good."  I shut the door.

This inquiry into trying to trying to appeal to who I already am, someone who believes in Jesus Christ, but with the intention to sway me to abandoning my beliefs for a "better" way, made me think of something else I encountered this week that tried to do the same, and really bothered me.

Earlier this week I read a blog post, a post that used feminism as it's way to try to appeal to who I already am.  A post that touted the writer and others that engaged in her hobby of pole dancing to be someone that did so for the obviously commendable cause of furthering the lives of women in our society, particularly those who would never pole dance in public themselves.

Hmm, well, I wouldn't pole dance in public, so I continued reading to see what exactly she was doing for me. What I was supposed to learn was that I am supposedly afraid of my own sexuality, and that I am being repressed by society, that I had poor body image, and, the thing that really ruffled my feathers, that I was to be felt sorry for, yes, felt sorry for, because I couldn't possibly enjoy sex.

That was what I was supposed to learn.  

Let me clear up the fallacies here.

Because someone chooses not to make their sexuality public does not necessarily mean any of that. As an aside, many people who choose that activity as a profession actually do it because they have had sexual abuse in their past, but that is a vast subject for another post.

I just plain old don't think my "goods" are public property so I CHOOSE not to engage in activities or fashions that make it public.  That's it.  If you choose to pole dance, fine, but you are not doing ME any favors by doing so.  I'm not crying alone at night in the corner.  No one makes me dress how I do, it's my choice.  My body displays it's 50 years of living, with wrinkles and stretch marks and a little extra fat, and I'm good with that, I don't need to twirl around a piece of aluminum to convince anyone of it.  I find my sexuality to be something intimate to be enjoyed with only my husband, and I'm really not seeing why that is wrong, as a matter of fact I think it would be disrespectful to him to think otherwise.  And, guess what, people who don't pole dance still have good sex.

Base emotions and actions don't make us more powerful.  They just make us like everyone else.  If you want to do something in the name of feminism that actually helps me, then stand up against 6 month rape sentences, try with all your might to break into a male-dominated field of work, heck, just make your husband KNOW who your children's doctors are.  

Pole dancing doesn't make me an equal to anyone but those who pole dance.  I've not come this far in life so that I can spread my legs in a seductive manner for a bunch of men who are not my partner.  Don't feel sorry for me.

I'm good.

That's why they have wine.

We're All In This Together?

We’re all in this together.  It’s a very popular phrase.  But are we?

We’re not if you log into my Facebook account.  I see too many posts and articles that include the words and phrases “privileged,” “snowflake,” “sheeple,” “shaming”…And that is just in a support group for parents of kids with ADHD.  Add to that all the names people call various politicians, thinking they are being cute, the assumptions made of people in any named political, racial, gender, sexual preference, economic, or religious group.  Heck, we even categorize cat and dog people.

We’re all in this together.  Bull Freaking Crap.  We’re not.  And you know what, the majority of people don’t want to be.

You know what happens when you pick out one group or one person to be the “blame” of everything in your life?  It means you hand all your power over to them, every single bit of it.  You are saying you are helpless, because, well, THEM!  You are absconding all responsibility, and that is what I think makes it attractive to people.

In the last week, I read a comment on the aforementioned ADHD support group I joined that said that the parent didn’t care at all what the other kids in the class had to deal with (in their mixed class where there child with disabilities was with those that don’t have any), they had enough privilege, they just needed to cater to her kid, it didn’t matter if it negatively affected the other children.  To my amazement, and honestly, utter disgust, most people agreed.  I’m sorry, that is not “We’re all in it together.”  That is “My life is hard, and I’m deciding it’s harder than yours, so mine is the only one that matters, and, well, SCREW YOU!”  Yep, that is exactly what it says, and it happens in every area of life.

 

My child has ADHD, and a couple other acronym diagnoses.  He’s not special.  His education isn’t more important than anyone else’s.  It is AS important, but it is most certainly not MORE important.  Teaching him that the system is against him, that others might see him as less, that he deserves special things because other people have some stuff easier, all that would do is make him a victim with no motivation to make the best of his life.  Instead I’ve taught him that things may sometimes be harder for him than some others, but he is completely expected to do them anyway, to work hard, to not give up, to realize that if someone thinks he can’t do something doesn’t mean they are right.  He’s not a victim of his circumstances.  He’s an amazing human being and he knows it.

And then the rest of my Facebook feed, same theme, different privilege or people to blame.  It makes me frustrated, because that will never lead to change.

Our lives are our choices.  Make them wisely, and know that you are in charge.

That’s why they have wine.

Happy Mother's Day To Some Wonderful Kids!

On this Mother's Day, I'd like to acknowledge all of "my kids."

Yes, only one is biological, but there are so many others that hold a place in my heart:  My nieces and nephews, all the neighborhood kids who used to use my bathroom and drink out of my hose on the back patio of my condo and sometimes just came over to talk to me when my son wasn't even home, the baseball teammates that I drove to and from practice, the group of boys who used to run to my car in the school pickup line to say "Hey, Mom!" and who I still joke around with when they are playing PS4 online with my son, my son's best friend who came to Disney with us for Spring Break and played right along with my silliness and stupid jokes.  You all are amazing young adults, and I am blessed that you have been in my life.

This is what Mother's Day is really all about.  Mom's aren't special without their kids.

That's why they have wine.  Or, in the case of most of you who are still young, Pepsi.  Love you all!

Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged

Judge not lest ye be judged.

Not only is this one of the most misinterpreted quotes in the bible (Jesus is talking about hypocrisy, not telling us to not use our brain), but it’s the Makes-Me-Better-Than-You popular sentiment these days.  (Did I mention hypocrisy?)

We all make judgements.  At least I hope we do.  If you do not, how do you know if you should be wary of a stranger?  How do you decide who to date?  How do you decide who is acceptable to babysit your kids?  How do you know if that investment is a good idea?  If we never drew conclusions based on dirty shoes or shifty eyes when talking or when someone just didn’t seem to belong, we’d have a heck of a lot more of unsolved crimes, like, well, all of them.

Judgments are necessary.  Some are inappropriate, say assuming someone is incapable of something because they are a certain gender or a criminal because of their race or a pervert because of their sexual orientation.  However, what reigns in those judgments in our society?  Chew on this a moment.  It’s the JUDGMENT on those people for their views.

Am I judgmental?  Sure I am.  So are you, whether you want to admit It or not.

And if you start a sentence with “I don’t judge…” I’m going to judge you as a liar, ignorant, or most likely, someone who wants to seem better than others.

Judge away at what I just said, that is your right.  We don’t have to agree.  Then actually try to live your life making no judgments whatsoever.  Good luck making it out of your driveway.

That’s why they have wine.  My judgment tells me that mine tastes pretty good.

That's What I Mean

"Hey, you forgot your medicine this morning," I told my son as he got in the car.

"Yeah, I figured that out."

"What do you mean?"

"When I wasn't paying attention in class.  Well, I was paying attention, but, you know, not the same."

"You were having a hard time paying attention?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

Had I not noticed that his 7-day pill box was not laying out on the kitchen counter like it usually is in the morning, I still would have known.  The teenager that often takes a nap on the 30 minute drive home was wide awake...wide awake and fidgeting with everything in his reach.  He messed with the visor, looked in the mirror several times, played with my water bottle, drank my water, pretended he knew the words to the classic rock songs on the radio and sang along, badly.  Through all of this there was commentary on everything under the son, including a conversation of how I still had to work when I got home while he could relax.  Well, at that point work sounded a bit peaceful!

I asked him if he got in trouble for anything.  "What would I get in trouble for?"  I just gave him the "you know" look. Before we went the medication route I got notes and phone calls from school fairly regularly about his constant talking.  In the back of my mind I always just thought "At least he's getting some of that out on someone besides me."  I do wonder today whose ear is worn out.

At his last neurological appointment, his doctor asked him if he wanted to try to lower or go without medication as he's been on it quite a while.  It only took him about a split second to say "No, I want to keep it the same as now."  His doctor told him that was fine, some people still prefer to take it as adults.

I think he made the right decision.  He's not a bad kid without it, I don't like him any less, he's actually quite funny and entertaining when he's in constant chatter mode. However, he's scattered, and it bothers him to not be able to focus, and today showed us that he still needs the help the medication gives him.  His medication actually wears off shortly after he gets home from school, but his evenings are more enjoyable because he isn't dealing with frustrations he might have otherwise had during the day. He's matured enough to be able to figure this out himself.

ADHD, it's not made up.  It's not an excuse used by parents.  My son, he will happily explain to anyone who asks how it makes him feel, clearly if he took his medication, a bit scattered if not, but he will tell you.

Believe him.

That's why they have wine.

A Toast To Friendship

I don’t have a huge list of friends, especially female ones.  I’m an introvert and happy with that, I enjoy my own company.  I don’t like the drama that many female (and some male!) relationships can create.  I don’t believe in rushing to the defense of someone no matter what, I believe in holding to my values and in being honest when I think someone is out of line, and this is not what leads you down the road of popularity.  I’ve my whole life been more “one of the guys” than the sorority sister type.

This is not to say I have no friends of course, there are some I hold very dear, and each holds a special place in my heart.  There are the few moms I’ve met through baseball over the years who I get together with probably not often enough, we all are busy, and, well, I need to be texting them for the next get together, it’s been a few months.  There is a friend who I see rarely, but who was there for the birth of my child and whom I know will always be there for anything I need. There are male friends I’ve met through the cigar lounge my husband went to long before I married him, who text me helpful or funny or silly things during the week and who I really enjoy hanging out with on weekends when we all go to the cigar lounge.  There are friends from work with whom I instant message during big meetings (we work from home) to discuss the things that way-way-up-there-disconnected-from-our-day-to-day-jobs people tell us about our jobs, who also get together periodically to connect in other areas of our lives. There are friends I know from high school and college, and thanks to the internet we've reconnected and see each other occasionally. There are friends I know from online forums, including a parenting page I used to help admin.  There are friends from the neighborhood or mom's of my son's friends and various other random places.

And then there is a friend who, well, just really, really gets me.  She is close to my mom’s age, she lived across the country until this year, and I actually met her on a Disney message board!  One day, over 10 years ago, she posted asking about something she had heard of, a “Monorail Drink-a-thon,”, in which you take the monorail and get a drink at the 3 resort stops.  She never expected her post to turn into a phenomenon, and I never expected a post to turn into a long friendship, but, well, that is what happened.  The post became a thread where we formed friendships and actually all met at Disney one day to do the Monorail Drink-a-thon.  We hit it off when we met, and the rest is history.  We’ve met up at Disney at least a dozen times since, even sharing a room sometimes at the resort, she came down from Chicago to attend my wedding 5 years ago, and she now lives in a home she bought in Orlando.  She holds one of the biggest places in my heart, and I just wanted to acknowledge that.

That’s why they have wine.  And she is always there to toast with me, even if she sticks with Bud Light!

It's Hard, and I Don't Care if I'm Not Supposed to Say So

I sit here exhausted, finishing the dinner I prepared, writing this blog to give me a little more time before I have to go clean the kitchen.

Running through my mind, competing for space with a particularly clingy song, “If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain…”, which has been driving me crazy for the last few hours since hearing it picking up my son from school, is a blog I read a few days ago.  It was a great blog, a validating blog, one that made me think, “Yes, thank you!”  It was a blog that started out saying that all moms have a lot to do, we’re all deserving of accolades, but that particularly wanted to give kudos to working moms, the moms who others often think “How do they do it all?”  You actually don’t see a lot of those, and the reason why could be easily seen in the majority of the comments. 

Comments that say working moms aren’t good moms because they abandon their children to be taken care of by strangers so they can have the luxury (luxury???!!!) of going to work.  Comments that express psychologically damaging offense because it is implied being a stay at home mom isn’t a job in itself.  Comments about how much harder it is to be a stay at home mom because working moms have so many helpers (helpers???!!!) Even comments about how we shouldn’t commend working moms if we aren’t going to do the same for working dads in the same sentence.

Well, I’m going to do something very unpopular.  I’m calling BS.  Bull-Freaking-Crap.  (Well, I guess technically that is BFC, but hey, I’ve had a long day.)

The truth is that married stay at home moms, single stay at home moms, married women without children, single women with no desire for children, single working moms, married working moms, moms that work from home, women without children that work from home, and any other group who is going to be offended because I didn’t call them out specifically, we all have very different lives.  We all have hard things in our lives, we all have stressors, but they are likely to be very different things.  This is the truth, but per political correctness, this is the only truth that this full time work from home for a major company, married, mom to a teenager (one with a few issues that require neurologist appointments and medication) is supposed to say.

I’m going to now move on to what we’re not supposed to say.  Let me preface this by saying that in my 49 years of life I have been a member of many “groups.”  I’ve been single without kids, married without kids with no intention of having them, a married mom, a single mom, and always a working mom but for the twelve glorious weeks where I was on disability and therefore a stay at home mom to be, and stay at home mom.  I do get what it’s like to be all of those.  Being a working mom has been the hardest stage of my life, and I'm not going to apologize for saying that.

First of all, yes, being a stay at home mom is a lot of work.  I know this well, because I also changed diapers when my son was little, taught him to tie his shoes, I take him to doctor’s appointments, I drive him to school and pick him up everyday, I take him to sports practice, I help with homework, I pack lunches, do laundry, volunteer at school and for sports leagues, buy groceries, fill prescriptions, cook dinner, do housework, and am there when he needs a shoulder to cry on or advice or to help figure out why his computer won’t boot up.  Working moms actually don’t have these mythical helpers we all hear about.  I kind of picture them as being a bit like Santa’s elves, and I could really, really use a few of them, but alas I missed the memo on how to get into this secret world.

Second, working moms don’t go to work to relax and socialize.  I’m laughing so hard right now I’m having a hard time continuing my thought on that, but thanks, I needed that laugh after my work day.  I go to work so that I can make my car payment, pay tuition, pay for quarterly neurologist appointments and expensive medication, pay the electric bill, pay for the food we eat.  My job is not the least bit relaxing, it is stressful enough that it’s causing me problems with my blood pressure.  I get up at 5:30 am, get ready for the day, and start my mom job by driving my son to school – a 70 minute round trip if there are no accidents, and then I work from 9 am to 6 pm at my paid job, using my lunch hour to again do my mom job and pick him up, and in between there I juggle meetings and figuring out how the heck website A lost it’s formatting on a page while running an update on website B and coworkers asking me questions about websites C and D, while the websites E-Z are wondering why I haven’t gotten back to them yet.  That would be the extent of my “socializing,” unless you count saying “Thank You” to the mailman who brings a package to the door.  After 6, then I start the rest of my mom job, starting dinner, throwing in a load of laundry, hopefully get back to making dinner before something burns, clean the kitchen, pack lunches, go to get school and sports uniforms ready for the morning only to realize I forgot to put them in the dryer, put clothes in the dryer and start another load, feed the pets, again go to get the school and sports uniforms ready for the morning, help my son find the misplaced baseball cap, pour a giant glass of wine, sew a button back on a pair of shorts, sort through the day’s mail, realize I forgot to pay a bill that is due and go pay it online, hear the alarm on my phone go off telling me it is time for my son to go to bed (yes, I really have one!  When you are trying to get everything done you are not paying attention to time), go tell him goodnight, take the trash out, get myself ready for bed, heat up my dinner that I forgot to eat, and I finally get to sleep around midnight.  Relax and socialize, ha!  There is not time for that silliness.

Lastly, we don’t think we are better than anyone else, though probably a bit busier.  However, we are understandably annoyed when someone downplays our life as some kind of choice to let other people raise our children so we can go hang out and party at the office.  Personally, I’d love to be a stay at home mom, it just doesn’t fit my budget, but I don’t believe that being one would make me better than anyone else either.  There are benefits to both – I would have less stress and less blood pressure problems and would get a little more sleep if I stayed at home, I have a little more money and health insurance because I work, for example.  When someone writes a blog about the sacrifices of stay at home moms, I have no issue with that.  When someone writes one that says they understand the struggles of working moms, please, just let us have that for a minute.

That’s why they have wine.  And it’s about time in my schedule for that large glass.