motherhood, politics, faith & whatnot

Members of the Duke University Men’s Lacrosse team are in very hot water. Three members of the team allegedly raped, sodomized and assaulted an exotic dancer that they hired to dance at a party last week.

Noone on the team came forward to offer any details, so the police required the whole team to provide DNA samples to help identify which three were directly involved. The DNA results are pending and charges have not been filed, yet.

You better believe that it’s big deal around here.

I hesitate to get even get into the race aspect of this case, because this isn’t about racism in the south. It is about racism, and class and privilege. If you look at the roster of the team (before it was taken down off the site), most of the guys are from the northeastern part of the country. There were one or two guys who are from Virginia (and the DC area, at that), and that was it for the south. So, yeah, not about some longstanding entrenched southern racism.

What am I talking about? Well, the victim was African-American, a college student at another local university, working to pay the bills.

Justice 4 Two Sisters

In order to further my perfectionistic tendencies, I sometimes think about what being a mom must have been like in “colonial” times, like I would really know. Heh. How did they deal with diapers? How did they keep their babies warm? How did they deal with babies pulling up on everything and learning to walk? How did they deal with babies putting every speck of anything they find on their floor in their mouths? How did they deal with being in the house all day long? I would have been a sucky colonial mom/housewife, etc.

the cashier at the grocery store tonight greeted me with “Do you have your Kr*oger card, sir?. . . er, I mean, ma’am?”

Yeah, I got my Kr*ger card right here, but first let me pull it out of my big hairy man-ass.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH.

There’s a DaDa exhibit at the National Gallery until mid-May. Time for a road trip, sans chil’rens.

Over 500,000 people peacefully protested proposed immigration reforms. Wow. Definitely got my attention. While the legislation is supposed to help keep terrorists out, I don’t think “terrorists” are who its going to target.

a few quiet moments around here since everyone else is napping.

This was a pretty rough week. Andrew had a goopy, runny nose, so he wasn’t fit to go to PMO or to take part in our Wednesday morning babysitting swap. I so hate being a human tissue. Ick and ick.

I had a couple of revelations about parenthood and motherhood and whatnot lately. First, when Daniel was a baby, we used to read parenting books and keep tabs on developmental milestone. We weren’t fanatical about it, but we always knew what was coming next.

After having Andrew and as Daniel aged into toddlerhood and preschoolerhood, we haven’t done as much reading up on the stages, etc. Mostly becuase of lack of time, but the milestone become more complicated and more about behaviors and emotions and less about physical things, like learning to walk, for example.

And having a baby in the house again, it was very gratifying to take care of a baby because I had some level of confidence — I’ve done this before. I know what to expect. With my 2+ year old, things were new and frustrating for him and me.

I don’t know if what I’m saying is making sense or not, but the gist of it is that I need to start spending more time and effort trying to meet Daniel where he is at and not just reacting to him. Part of being a good parent, I think, is being able to help your child through the stages as they grow up, and I feel like I’ve been falling down on the job a little bit with that.

Now, just so you know, I’m not trying to be a super-parent or too hard on myself. I just want to do better for him and for myself.

It’s helpful to have friends who have older kids because you get a chance to see what’s coming next and think about how you would handle a particular situation should it come up.

And more reading of parenting books, too.

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Quite clearly, Andrew needed a haircut. We had tried to give him trims here and there but that didn’t go very well. So we packed everybody into the mini-v and headed for Great*Clips.

Daniel also needed a haircut, so he got his done while sitting on Daddy’s lap, as usual. He’s an old pro.

Andrew sat on my lap for his haircut. And do you know what? He did GREAT! He was just watching and taking everything. He’d glance up and grin at the lady cutting his hair from time to time.

It was a little sad to see all that hair go. And gheesh, it was a lot of hair. I saved a chunk of it. I’m not sure why people save baby hair. I’m always slightly grossed out when I see chunks of baby hair. I think it really only has any sentimental value to the mother and not anybody else. I mean, we don’t save fingernail clippings. . . or maybe some people do.

I had saved some of Daniel’s hair from his first haircut which we did manage to do at home. The hair was in a klee*nex though, so you probably know where this is going. Yep, got thrown away, except for a small, small piece which is collecting dust on my dresser.

Anyway, so everyone is much happier now and he’s still cute as a button to us.

I don’t know if Maricar makes it by here too often, I’ll share five things.

1. I am also a chocoholic. I often think that it’s a monthly thing, but then I realize that I’m stuffing my yop with chocolate as often as I can which is mostly every day. Black raspberry chocoalte chunk ice cream tonight. Yum.

2. A Nik*on D50 is also the camera that I want. I’m trying to learn about all the features on my little Can*on Powershot S30. And it turns out that it really does a lot. Who knew? But its autofocus is going and it overexposes everything for some reason.

3. I also buy too much stuff for my kids. It’s so fun. I love seeing them explore and Daniel’s curiosity is hard to keep up with. J rolls his eyes everytime I come in with something else.

4. I wish I had a job that I enjoy like you do yours. But I do have a job now. I’ll be working a few hours a week for Dream*Dinners — it’s one of those places where you go in and put 6-12 meals together at one time and then take them home and freeze them. I get a good discount on the food and it’s mom-friendly place to work. I’ve got a couple of other irons in the fire, too.

5. I am a really, really bad housekeeper. Our bathroom hasn’t been cleaned in . . . . um. . . . a really, really long time. Except for the toilet. I wipe that thing down pretty often. Ick, I know. Now that I have a job, I day dream about having someone come in and clean the house for us, even just once. They’d probably never want to come back again after that anyways.

I could go on. . .

I am also making it easier to comment on my blog and taking away the registration / log in thingie.

OK, wait, I guess that’s less about Mel’s b-day and more about me . . .

Well, please stop and wish her a Happy Birthday!

9 minutes left on the meter

OK, so I must rant.

I’m a Christian.

I used to keep that on the down-low because I didn’t want to be linked to those Christians. The fundamentalist ones. The preachy, judgmental, right-wing nut jobs that have elected W to office, twice.

Several years ago, I felt pushed to be more open about my faith. To find words to articulate what I believe, so I started trying to do just that, but still carefully choosing the times and places where I would open up.

I believed and still do that you are more likely to influence someone’s faith by how you live than being preachy. Lead by example, but not a self-righteous, holier than thou example, because we all do things that we’re not proud of, whether we pray to Jes*us or not. I’m not a better person than you because I believe in God’s grace. Thank God, for God’s grace.

But in addition to trying to lead a life focused on God and struggling to follow Jesus’ example and teachings which is really an impossible, unattainable goal, it is necessary to speak out sometimes. To talk about one’s faith. To not always be so willing to see things from everyone else’s point of view and be quiet and respectful of their experiences.

In fact, I’m really tired of trying to tread carefully around people’s negative experiences with organized religion so as not to offend them. Of trying to see their side of things and understand that religion brings a lot of baggage for a lot of people and that the fundamentalist right-wing nut jobs out there spewing hatred and intolerance aren’t really helping matters. I know religion leaves a bad taste in a lot of peoples’ mouth. I know all this stuff.

I’m sorry about that, I am. But I’m not like that, nor am I in any way really connected to that, so please stop and broaden your world view for a moment. Don’t paint all of us Christians with such a broad brush. “Church people” aren’t inherently bad. I’m a “church person.”

I’m tired of the expectations foisted on me if I say that I’m a Christian If I put it out there, then I feel very conscious of needing to prove to people that no, I’m not one of those Christians. I’m cool (hah) and I drink and I curse and I’m not a very patient person and I yell at my kids a little too much sometimes and I have quite a temper and I’m petty and flawed, just like everyone. And that’s exactly why I need God.

It’s so tiresome making sure to reassure people that you are one of the “good” ones. That I’m not going to make them testify and accept Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior.

How about giving me a break? How about stepping in my shoes?

Am I even making sense, I don’t know. I’m just, well, frustrated.

If you take issue with anything I’ve said here, feel free to comment. I want to discuss. I want to hear what you have to say. Frank discussions are difficult, but really helpful things.