Some Conditions Apply

We got a call the other day from some political campaign polling our opinions as voters. Well, I say we, but Jeff answered and he is the one who gave the opinion. I listened to his answers and from that alone, I was able to determine what the questions were.

I have so much trouble with these kinds of things. For me, life is not black or white, everything really deserves that "additional comments" box to qualify and explain answers. Things are complicated and complex. A simple yes or no seems impossible--no matter what the question.

"Right Direction," he said. Sigh. Right direction? Well, yes...sort of. I believe in this country, our leaders and our rights. But really, seems like at some point, things need to change with the war. I am not bashing Bush or those amazing heroes over there fighting for us. It is more of a Dr. Phil moment--how is the current situation working for us? Not to good. Maybe right direction, poor execution or wrong direction despite the excellent execution...not sure and this is a debate that much too large for my little mommy-blog. But, the point is I think it is way beyond choosing from three answers: right direction, wrong direction or don't know.

"Pro-Life," he said. Pro-Life, clearly they asked what is position was on abortion. Oh here is another whole-can-o-worms. Pro-Life? That is it? Not that I have a problem with his position or the fact that pro-life is his position, but more I am fascinated by the fact that he can answer--that quickly and that plainly. Pro-Life. What about all the what-ifs? What about the reality that is life for so many children in this country--hungry, ignored, abused. What about the woman--young, scared, maybe even raped. Nope, for me it isn't as simple as pro-life.

I am not sure there is an additional comments box big enough to help me really articulate my position on this one--I don't even think I fully understand my own position on it. I say I would never make that choice, but I haven't ever been in a position where I even needed to consider it. What if they told me the baby's life or mine? What if they could tell the baby had three hearts growing on the outside of its chest wall. What if, what if, what if.

I have been pregnant, am a mother and all I can say is I have enormous respect for the miracle and responsibility of making humans. God's grace is ever-present in the course of pregnancy, but the gift isn't for everyone. I don't have an answer and wouldn't be willing to let some random phone poll use my complex confusion and inability to commit as a check in their politically-preferred column.

And, it isn't just these big issues that throw me for a loop. A survey on a hotel stay is never without comment. A "how was everything" at a restaurant usually involves some commentary. Do I just like to hear myself talk? Not so much. I think it is more about my compulsive need to analyse and contemplate. And, perhaps there is a dash of my constant pursuit for perfectionism in there. I always want whatever it is to be striving for perfection, even though it is unattainable, you should still strive to achieve your best. So, go ahead...ask my opinion. But, don't expect a simple yes or no answer in response.

The State of Womenhood in America

These are actually sort of heartbreaking. You have probably seen them before. Really, I wish I watched them when I was like 12...and I should probably watch them once a day even now to remember what is real and what is, well...not.

To the women I love (okay, all you creepy freaks googling things like women who love women, I mean women I love as friends), I love you because you are you! The you, you--not the you you might want to be on the outside.






As for me, I will just keep obsessing about how fat I am.

Ever Done This?

Okay, I have once again ignored my blog for far too long. For the 64 or so of you who check in each week, keep checking as I will continue to try to update. I promise, I write many fabulous blog entries each morning in the shower, but before i can get them from my mind to the computer each day, things get in the way.

I have some great pictures and adventures to update you on, but no time for that now. It is Sunday night, I need to eat a big bowl of apple brown betty, get the kids in bed and change my closet to fall clothes. But, in the meantime, wondering if you have ever done this...or something similar.

This weekend, I was loading the kids up in the car to go to a little festival at the Peace Learning Center. I had been gone earlier in the morning playing tennis and had a very sweet, but young babysitter who fed the kids ice cream, Twizzlers, gum, popsicles and other forbidden fruits for breakfast while I was gone. I am so not kidding. And this is after I said, "I am making pancakes for lunch, so try to encourage them to eat a healthy breakfast that doesn't involve syrup (meaning--not a lot of sugar) like a bagel." That didn't go over too well, huh? Needless to say, everyone was totally wound up the rest of the day. Jeff was down south riding the Hilly Hundred, so it was just me and my crew.

They are all getting in the van in the garage when from inside the house, I hear Phillip rip into Samuel with the nastiest tone I have ever heard. Now, you should know that Phillip's rudeness to his siblings isn't new. It is a problem we have been working on. He is impatient, pushy, physical and down-right rude to them on a regular basis. I storm out the garage door, teeth clinched, finger pointed and yell--"If I hear that nastiness come out of that mouth one more time, I will fill it so full of soap you won't be able to talk for days. Do you understand me?"

On the me part, I hear my echo. Ooopps. I am in the garage, the door is open and the stillness of the fall air carries my voice at least two houses down. Great. Neighbors no doubt heard. The soap part, yes, we have done that--for biting (and for us, it worked). But the screaming, I am super embarrassed about, not to mention the fact that here I am screaming at him telling him not to scream at them. Oh the hypocrisy. Oh the embarrassment. Oh the shame. Ever been caught losing it? I hate that...I know someone heard for sure. I need to get my ass to the Peace Learning Center pronto, don't ya think?

I moved on. We went to the festival and had a great time. The mayor was there and while he was speaking, Phillip started talking to me kind of loud. "Phillip, we need to be quite and respect the mayor while he is talking, even if we don't like him." He turns to me and says, "I know you think he is a jack-a. I heard you call him that once." Acting surprised and oh so innocent, I said, "Me? Call him what?" He repeated and told me he heard it at my dad's house one time. Oh those little ears--the listen like crazy and never forget. Sounds like I need my mouth washed out.