Dru Blood - I believe in the inherent goodness of all beings: December 2003 Archives

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I swear I do feed him regularly.

December 31, 2003

I just gave monk a slice of sourdough with melted butter on it, and he raised it above his head and said "All hail the piece of bread with butter on it!"

What a goof.

Posted at 8:13 PM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Here's something fucked up that I just noticed...

December 30, 2003

I was at the grocery store today, standing in line to buy dog and cat food, cursing myself for losing 20 bux*, calculating all of the money I've been spending lately and freaking out a little bit about not having enough to cover bills. And I started thinking about L, and how it would be really helpful if he would at least buy groceries every once in awhile, and how it would be REALLY VERY helpful if he actually contributed a set amount of money every month that was actually significant (I dunno if I've mentioned this lately...but he contributes ZERO...and actually less than that, since he consumes food and beverages while he is here. Not to belabor this, but if he is reading this blog, which I suspect that he is, I would like to just have that out there so he's reminded that he's contributing nothing.)

At any rate, I started thinking about how much easier my life would be if he would start doing his share of the financial part of being a parent. And then I started to get indignant, and started thinking "I work SO hard."

And then I started thinking "No, you don't ACTUALLY work SOOO hard. I mean, you LIKE your job. It's not that difficult."

And, what's worse, is that thought made me feel, somehow, like L wasn't obligated to contribute financially to the support of the household. As if I somehow have to really be sweating it to warrant his providing for his family. As if being happy and having plenty for myself and the kids somehow precludes him from having to take responsibility.

I can't get over how very fucked up this line of reasoning is, and yet...I think it's really ingrained in me. It's going to be a difficult one to get over, and I have to really be careful and pay attention to how this manifests in other relationships.

*I found the 20 bux when I got home, and was greatly relieved.

Posted at 10:43 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Dru Blood Endorses

December 30, 2003

Allyson Shaw's Chap

(I haven't actually read it, but I'm sure it's excellent.)

Posted at 8:14 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

"free" trade 101

December 30, 2003

Stop Calling It Free Trade! - Reclaim Democracy.org

International trade agreements erect trade barriers as often as they remove them. As Wayne Andreas, CEO of agribusiness giant Archer Daniels Midland, said, "There is not one grain of anything in the world that is sold in the free market. Not one. The only place you see a free market is in the speeches of politicians." Well acquainted with both illegal price fixing and legally wielding political power to extract taxpayer subsidies, Andreas knows of what he speaks.

Not only do treaties like the proposed FTAA outlaw forms of protectionism that serve the public interest - such as safeguards for healthy air, drinkable water and a safe workplace - they also preclude or destroy competition in many business realms.

A driving force behind most existing and proposed trade agreements is politically-powerful corporations' pressure to expand the most costly and anti-competitive forms of protectionism--patents, copyrights and other monopolies grouped under "intellectual property rights."

This could be a follow-up to any of a number of posts I've made in the last few days.

Posted at 7:47 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Looking Forward, Glancing Back

December 30, 2003

I don't usually make hard resolutions for the new year. Instead, I make periodic, usually seasonal, adjustments to rhythm and re-evaluations of priorities.

I'm in the process of doing that now. I was talking to a friend the other night, and it occurred to me that this season is particularly good for all of that. It starts with the solstice, which I have now determined will be a holiday of creativity and activity, and then moves forward into the new year, which is about tweaking my schedules and my priorities - looking forward into the coming year, and then, shortly after New Year's, is my birthday, which frequently brings about reminiscence and redirection. What happened last year that I don't want to have happen again? What do I want to happen in the coming year? These are things that I attempt to evaluate at the change of every season, but it makes sense now why the questioning seems particularly acute around this particular time of year.

So, I have spent some time each day evaluating what I'm doing with myself and what I need to be doing, and, list-maker that I am, I have composed my share of unspoken, unwritten lists.

First, I created an index card method of housekeeping that should keep the housekeeping in order and a little more interesting. I had been using a 3-ring binder with various chores that I would check off at various intervals. I'm big into lists and really weirdly elaborate guidelines for doing things, so this worked well for me, but I kept having to re-print the checklists and it seemed like a huge waste of paper. The index card plan is good, because I'm re-using old index cards (that I once used as my weirdly elaborate record-keeping system when I used to mail out zines) and I'm throwing in random little cards that say things like "Fuck the chores, go lay in the hammock!" and "Write the kids a love note!" and stuff like that. Maybe I should package this, write a book, and make a zillion dollars. I could call it rolodex cleaning, and I could become rich.

OK, anyway - I'm glad that is done. And my next organizational project is figuring out how to redesign our days with regard to homeschooling. Monk wants to keep doing things they way we have been, and I like the circle time in the morning, but I don't think I've been spending enough time with Cole, so I think I'm going to divide the circles into 30-minute intervals - thirty minutes of reading aloud to both kids, and then 30 minutes where we either all work on a handwork or art project together, or I work with Cole on artsy-craftsy stuff while Monk does his mazes or works in a workbook (which, oddly enough, he really loves to do.) There needs to be more messy art stuff going on in the house, and more cooking as a family, I think. I picked up a really cool book at a thrift store that is all about kids cooking kids meals, and even has like curriculum-y type questions at the end of each section...and it's vegetarian. I can't remember what it's called, but I had never seen it before, and it almost looks like it's ultra small-press. So, maybe I can use that.

I really need to encorporate more movement into our days as well. My kids tend to want to stay indoors (as do I) - but there's so much good weather here this time of year that it's dumb to be inside all of the time. More outdoor time. More walks. More dancing. More moving. This is something I wish I could just give to L to do, because he has the best part of the day to do it in. In fact, when he comes over is a really great time to take the kids to the playground because the school kids are just getting out, and there are lots of neighborhood kids there for Monk to meet and socialize with...I'm sure he would love that, but L doesn't take them out there, and you can be sure that if I mention it to him he will ABSOLUTELY refuse to do it. But, I think I'm going to ask him anyway. Pretty much any other time of the day for us is full of other stuff. Late afternoon is the best for playground time during the winter months. Once it gets warmer, it will be best in the early morning hours.

So those are the more tangible things that need to change in the coming months. I'm still thinking about the other things. Here's what I have running through my head right now:

Get the divorce early in the year: L is getting more and more unreasonable about the agreement that we signed, and I'm feeling like we need to get something legalized quickly before he abandons it altogether. A direct quote from him yesterday was "That piece of paper" (meaning our agreement) "means nothing to me." Technically, the negotiated agreement is not a legal document, but it will most likely mean something to a judge if one of us is not honoring it, due to the fact that many judges order couples to go through mediation. L is now refusing to mediate. EVidently, I'm capable of exerting mind control powers on him and the neutral third parties in the room to force an outcome that is favorable only to me.
Find a way to join the Y: This has been on my list of shit to do for the past 2 or 3 seasonal changes, but I just haven't gotten around to it. Someone recently asked me if I had TIME to go to the Y, and I think I do - at least 3 times a week. I really miss working out, and I just can't do it in my home. When I try to do yoga when the kids (namely Cole) are awake, they climb on me and run around me and it's just not very relaxing.
Try going to the UU church again: I'm thinking I'm going to attempt to start attending the morning services. The contingency here is Cole. If he will allow me to put him in the nursery, I will go. If he will not, I will try again next season. I initially wanted to start going to church so Monk would have a chance to build friendships with a community of kids who weren't necessarily all homeschoolers, but it's just way too stressful to deal with the idea that Cole is spending his entire time there screaming and crying.
Re-evaluate, and REALLY STICK to my budget: I think I've done a pretty good job of creating a workable budget, in spite of the fact that I haven't gotten a pay raise in two years (and, in fact, I earned less last year than the year before due to the absence of freelance/contract work that was previously available). I'm mostly doing a good job of sticking to the budget, too, but there are some things that I need to work on. My primary difficulty is nights like this, when I don't have anywhere in particular to go, and I am stuck either spending the entire evening at the library, or going to work, or, HEY! I KNOW! I'll just get a bite to eat! See what I mean? I want my home to be my space, and I want to be able to stay in my space when I am on vacation. I'm tired of being foisted from my home on a daily basis for someone else's convenience.

Those, I guess, are more of the more tangible things that I would like to work on this season/year. I'm working on the intangible changes...turning them over in my mind. I'll probably post them later. It doesn't seem like they belong in this post, and besides...they are probably more of a late night kind of meandering.

Posted at 6:00 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Oh, my fucking GOD, would you just SHUT UP!

December 30, 2003

There are these two girls in the coffee shop here, and they are having what seems to be an inappropriately LOUD conversation in total sorority girl language and affect and it is so fucking annoying and distracting. You know what I'm talking about, right? That sort of weird vocal affect that produces this oddly halting, overly punctuated verbal bullshit...and they keep talking about how smart and/or rich they and/or their friends are.

I want to slap them.

Oh, Yay! They are leaving! Now I can get back to what I was doing.

Posted at 5:44 PM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Speaking of "Paranoia" about Illness...

December 30, 2003

From this post at Living on Less

Many people seem to believe that needed health care is somehow available for people with no health insurance. That's simply not true. Yes, if you go to the emergency room of a public hospital you will be treated (as long as you have an emergency; you won't be given routine care), but you will be billed for that service, to the tune of hundreds or even tens of thousands if you required hospitalization and surgery. Many people cannot afford to take the chance of facing a huge bill and will just forego care.

asfo_del goes on to quote some alarming statistics about the fate of uninsured adults and children.

I would panic, but I can't afford to - my stress might cause my uninsured children to fall into ill health.

Posted at 11:36 AM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

Economic Justice for Kids.

December 30, 2003

ACTIVITY 2 ECONOMIC JUSTICE: THE SCRAMBLE FOR WEALTH AND POWER

The distribution of wealth and power within society usually affects a person's opportunities to achieve full human rights and live a life with dignity. This activity involves the distribution of wealth. It challenges participants to examine the concepts of "fairness" and "responsibility" and reflect on their own actions.

Unlike Mr. Boortz, I think this could be a very valuable learning activity for kids.

[Link courtesy of Andrea.]

Posted at 9:55 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Paranoia?

December 30, 2003

Is anyone else just a touch freaked out that seemingly every single child on the face of the earth has, in the past month, come down with some sort of stomach virus. I mean, it's weird enough when all of my real life friends' kids have the same bug...but when I am reading my friend's list and blogroll and hearing that EVERYONE has it...

...um, THAT is just a little TOO strange for me.

Posted at 8:50 AM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

What He Said

December 29, 2003

What They Think of You:

When you value people only as economic units, the humanity goes away. In "market" logic the sick or old person should be discarded as a drain on economic resources. In "market" logic there is no point in having a government that looks out for the interests of the public at large -- this "gets in the way" of competition. In "market" logic there is no point in recreation, except for its value in making the worker unit a bit more productive. In "market" logic there is no point in educating beyond what you need for your job. In "market" logic your only value to society is the extent to which you will serve the corporation.

While yr there, you might as well read this quickie.

Seeing the forest, indeed!

Posted at 11:05 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Kucinich/peace rally in Austin on Saturday the 3rd.

December 29, 2003

Details:

January 3 (Sat), 1pm - 3pm Peace Rally
MUSIC:
Michelle Shocked, Bill Passalacqua
SPEAKERS:
Rep. Dennis Kucinich, Michael Badnarik Libertarian Party, Adrienne Boer Green Party, Lesley Ramsey Texas Fair Trade Coalition, Nelson Linder NAACP, Charlie Jackson Texans for Peace, Dave Collins Veterans for Peace, Vietnam Veterans Against the War, Thad Crouch Austin Conscientious Objectors to Military Taxation, Richard Troxell Universal Living Wage
where: State Capitol steps, 11th and Congress
Sponsored by Austin Against War, American Friends Service Committee - TAO, Veterans for Peace

Posted at 10:20 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Redesign suggestions please!

December 29, 2003

I'm gathering ideas and thoughts about features and ideas for a spiffy redesign. If anyone has any suggestions that would enhance usability, please let me know.

Thanks.

Your humble servant,
Drucilla B. Blood

Posted at 8:15 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Burnt Orange Reports on Bush

December 29, 2003

I thought this post was well compiled and well-written.

Posted at 5:41 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Call for Feminist Zines

December 29, 2003

CALL FOR FEMINIST ZINES Calling all zine-making women and grrrls! At its June 2004 conference in Milwaukee, the National Women's Studies Association will for the first time designate an entire exhibit table for a zine display. We're looking for current zines with a feminist edge or outlook, however you might define that. More information about the conference, which is titled "Women in the Middle: Borders, Barriers, Intersections," is available at this website: http://www.uwm.edu/Dept/CWS/nwsa/ Even if you can't attend the conference, you can have your zine displayed. - For print/paper zines, just send samples (preferably one copy each of two different issues) and full information about how to order or subscribe. We'll display the samples at the conference, where we'll also give interested browsers a handout listing all the zines on display, with contact/order information for each. After the conference, the sample issues will be donated to a university library collection, campus women's center, or other worthy repository of printed materials, where your zine can continue to make its mark. If your zine is online only, send us the URL and we'll include information about your e-zine on the handout. Deadline: April 1, 2004. Send your samples and information, and indicate whether or not you'll be attending the conference in person: JoAnne Lehman ATTN: NWSA Zines 430 Memorial Library 728 State Street Madison, WI 53704 Questions? Write to jlehman@library.wisc.edu

Posted at 5:30 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

This is really no surprise, but that doesn't mean it's any less of an outrage.

December 29, 2003

Journalists Take Flak in Iraq

When US Central Command has good news to report in Iraq, as it did after troops from the Fourth Infantry Division captured Saddam Hussein on December 13, it adores the media. But journalists say that when there's bad news--a helicopter crash, a mortar attack--they are increasingly being blocked from covering the story by US soldiers, who frequently confiscate and destroy their film disks and videotapes.

Posted at 4:41 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

That's what I'm talking about.

December 29, 2003

The Black Commentator - The"Food Justice"Movement - Issue 70

One of the great, often unspoken, forms of oppression that low- and moderate-income communities suffer through is the lack of access to healthy food. When I moved back to Central Brooklyn in 1985, I was struck by its barren nutritional landscape. It wasn't just that options like fresh produce and organic foods were hard to come by. But the storefront food provision systems themselves - "bullet-proof" fast food joints, poorly stocked and over-crowded supermarkets, cruddy, stomach-curdling bodegas - seemed to represent a level of self-destruction and dietary corruption that went well beyond my inability to buy tofu on Nostrand Avenue. While most residents and activists look at conditions such as public safety, housing availability, public education, environmental concerns and economic opportunities when taking on community development issues, seldom do we consider one of the most basic elements - how an area feeds itself - as a sign of neighborhood well being.

An excellent, excellent article, which features links to and information about a few key Food Justice sites.

Posted at 4:29 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

I'm glad to know I'm not missing out on anything

December 29, 2003

This post about Lord of the Rings, on this excellent blog would probably really, really piss off my management assistant...

Let's recap the central themes of the movie: the white people, they're all good. And the black people, they're all bad. And the villain is the "Dark Lord" who lives in the "Black Land." And the only black humans in the film, well, they sit on top of really mean elephants and wear war paint on their faces (just like real Africans! how realistic!).

...considering he spent about an hour fuming over the fact that Jim Munroe had the NERVE to not like Zelda.

Thanks to Crazy Woman for the link.

UPDATE: While you are there, you might as well read this post, as well. This woman is fucking hilarious.

Posted at 4:14 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

To Train Up a Child

December 29, 2003

See, here's the deal. I understand there are people out there who are awful to their kids. And I realize some of them homeschool. Proof of that came today when I got an e-mail from our state homeschool coalition (which I DON'T participate in, because they are way too religious/far right for me) that recommended this book. This book advocates NOT child "training" as the authors claim, but child ABUSE. Pulling an infant's hair when he or she bites mama's nipple is not "training" - it is abuse. "Rewarding" every transgression with "switching" is not "training" - it is abuse.

These people are not good parents, they are child abusers. However, I'm certain that if they homeschool, they are careful to dot all their "i"s and cross all their "t"s and live by the letter of the law, so they will not face any sort of punishment for "training up their children." However, if homeschooling regulation was enacted and enforced in Texas, I would probably be among the many who would be "closely watched" due to my beliefs and practices.

Go figure.

Posted at 11:17 AM • Comments (6) • TrackBack

So Far, So Good

December 29, 2003

SO good. My vacation has been excellent. Good times with friends, hanging out, by myself, with the kiddos.

I can work my way backwards from this moment. The children are watching PBS, having passed the barf illness one to the other. Coley is now the one propped up with pillows and blanket. He actually requested pain reliever because he had "booboos all over his body." I'm hoping the diaper I changed this morning contained the contained the contents of his stomach so he doesn't barf, but I am prepared for barf patrol. He is refusing to eat, just in case. Monk feels better, but is taking advantage of Coley's television time. This means mama actually gets to take a minute to post to the blog and eat breakfast in peace. For the two day interim between illnesses, they were both ultra hyper and it was difficult to keep the peace around here.

Last night I hosted a dinner party with Susan and Steve. They came over and played with the kids and talked and helped me cook a yummy mulligatawny stew and some spicy indian vegetable bread - both recipes from Sundays at moosewood. It was DELICIOUS, moreso because it was shared with friends. I'll probably post the recipes at the recipe blog as soon as I get around to it.

I spent the day yesterday grocery shopping, cleaning up, coughing and hacking because I was suffering from bronchial spasms again (which probably means I'm about to get my period - I feel much better today) prepping for dinner, and snuggling with the kiddos.

Saturday, I went out with my friend John to see Santaland Diaries. I had a great time. John makes me laugh, a lot, in a very good way. He's such a sweetie...exactly the right person at exactly the right time in my life, you know? I love it when that happens...when people just fit. We watched the play, went out for dinner at Austin Java Company *YUM* and then I kicked his ass at pinball a couple of times (um, five? six?). It was such a great night, but he's out of town for the next TWO WEEKS, so now I have no one who will rush over here in the middle of the night to fix my doorknob...

...or watch cheesy movies with me. Because Friday night I hung out with John also, after the kids were abed, and we watched Willard and Meet the Parents, and we finished putting Monk's Man'o'War ship together. It was terribly fun, but Coley woke up at around 2 AM and, after giving us a concert of himself singing "Ace of Spades" (and you thought the 7 year old wide-awake version was a riot, try a three year old at 2 AM version) he demanded that I come back to bed with him. So I sent John away and went to sleep.

Earlier that day, my friend Kirsten treated me to a movie. We saw...damn, I can't remember the name, but it was that movie with Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson. It was pretty funny, and I really enjoyed spending time with K. She's really cool, very funny. It's difficult to describe our connection other than to say I think we both feel like misfits a lot of the time, and I feel very comfortable in her presence. Like she understands an aspect of me that many people don't understand...it's unspoken, but understood. I like that.

Christmas and Christmas Eve were uneventful I just kind of spent those days worrying that Monk was going to throw up, and cleaning up after him when he did. And at night I went out and tried to find things to do and spent way more money than I wanted to entertaining myself because I'm not "allowed" to be in my own home when L is here with the kids. I saw a movie on Christmas at the dollar theater, but I'm not even going to say what it was because it was bad. I knew it would be horrible, but I saw it anyway because I was being strict about adhering to the rules of my "movie roullette" game that I play. At least it only cost three bux. At least my mom sent me money for Christmas, so I can blame my mom. Yeah. That's it, it was my mom's fault!

Christmas Eve was even funnier, because I treated myself to dinner at a cheap Chinese restaurant, and they have this huge screen TV there, and they were playing "Weekend at Bernies TWO" (who the fuck thought it was a good idea to make a sequel of THAT movie?)

Anyway, a lot of kicking around, a lot of coffee shop visits. A lot of reading. A lot of snuggle time with the kiddos. And there's still a whole week left to go. I'd say that's a pretty successful vacation thus far. My house isn't even that disgusting right now, because Steve and Susan were able to distract the kids while I did the dishes last night. Hooray for Susan and Steve!

This week? More of the same. I'm probably going to stay in on New Year's Eve and maybe take care of some friends' kids. (movie night!) And I need to visit with Jennifer at some point, and I need to bring Kate some Mulligatawny, and I'll probably hang out with Megan. Today, I'm taking some down time and going to hang out by myself at Spider house or Mojos. I need to work on a project for work, and I need to answer a ton of e-mail.

I also finished making my winter mix CD's for grown-ups, and I just need to make the kids' mix and the older kids' mix. I'll probably end up sending them out AFTER the first of the year, but, hey, winter has just begun! I figure as long as they are in the mail before the vernal equinox, I'm OK.

Posted at 9:45 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

When in Doubt...

December 27, 2003

blame Canada.

I shit you not, I just heard a news brief where the newscaster said the word "Canada" about 50 times in the span of less than 5 minutes.

Um, pass the buck much?

Posted at 11:20 PM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

I should be baking cookies...

December 26, 2003

But instead, inspired by Ivy, I am googling around, searching for what we are NOT hearing* about Mad Cow Disease.

This was an interesting article that I found, right off the bat:

Department officials have been reluctant to support an across-the-board ban on downer animals, which often end up in pet food, in the human food supply. They've warned that a ban would lead farmers to bury the sick and injured animals on the farm instead of sending them to be rendered, raising the risk that diseases would spread to other livestock and wildlife.
Rendering, a process that basically cooks meat that goes into food for pets and livestock, kills most disease.

Farm Sanctuary president Gene Baustin argued the USDA's insufficient efforts have risked both human and animal health, and suggested consumers might be "eating the evidence" of a serious health risk.

It's kind of strange, because I keep hearing people talking about how "The Liberal Media" is creating a lot of unnecessary hype around this issue, but I'm not hearing any hype. What I'm hearing is the same news report over and over and over and over again with very little information about the origins, causes, and possible outcomes of a mad cow outbreak.

In the five years since the British government concluded that people were dying from exposure to mad cow disease, fewer than 100 people have died from vCJD. This statistic may not seem terribly alarming, but public health officials familiar with the long incubation period of this class of diseases are far from complacent. According to an analysis published in the January-February 2001 issue of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention's Emerging Infectious Diseases, which was written by leading researchers from both the United Kingdom and the U.S., the death toll may eventually surpass 100,000

The difference between mad cow disease "hype" and influenza "hype" is that mad cow disease is ENTIRELY preventable in humans. You don't eat beef, you don't contract mad cow disease. Still, the cattle industry encourages you to just keep eating. The cattle industry wants you to believe that it's "no big deal" in spite of the fact that one diseased cow is enough for entire countries to cease to import beef from the U.S. And our arrogant president continues to flaunt his ignorance by allowing our country to ignore guidelines set forth by the World Health Organization. Thanks, George.

P.S. Only in America can people be called "radical social activists" - as if that's an insult - for supplying the only beef stock that can be guaranteed free of Mad Cow Disease. Mr. Martosko, I consider you a "radical business activist" - and in my book, that's far worse. Sacrificing the good of the people for the good of the economy. I haven't eaten meat in over 15 years, and I still don't want meat-eaters to die from brain wasting. Clearly the cattle industry doesn't have as much respect for its consumers as these "radical social activists" do.

Did you know that in thirteen states, you can be sued if you raise questions about the health effects of agriculture grown or cultivated in that state? Known as veggie-libel laws, they completely block the First Amendment rights of anyone speaking out about the many problems in the chemical, fertilizers and genetic engineering being used in farming and ranching. Even if substantiating evidence is provided to prove a charge, the horrendous cost of defending oneself against the court actions these laws encourage will keep a tremendous amount of information out of the hands of consumers. A bunch of Texas cattle ranchers have recently sued Oprah Winfrey for a show she did on mad-cow disease. Intelligent Americans can hope that the courts will find these insane laws unconstitutional.

Posted at 11:15 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Regulation of homeschoolers

December 25, 2003

I'm enjoying a fun debate on the ospolitics boards about regulation of homeschoolers. How'm I doing?

Posted at 10:47 AM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

Oh good fucking lord

December 23, 2003

FamilyVsState [LifeSave.org]

Honestly...has the state nothing better to do with its time? Aren't there actual criminals and child molestors out there to be apprehended? Or is it just easier to target people who aren't, you know, evil...and stuff.

Link courtesy of veggiemama.

Posted at 8:45 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Mama Calendar

December 23, 2003

Have you ordered your mama calendar yet?

how & why to order a mama calendar now
the calendars will be ready soon, probably getting mailed out on monday!
they are appallingly beautiful, and include recipes, a zine guide, links to radical activism, unschooling info and of course photographs of mamas and their families from all over - including lots of y'all:

green, augie, hannah, ubershti, dorie, sonja, ayun, inky, lofani, leroy, maceo, cameron, blair, evelyn, julie, alli, KD, sarah, maceo, coleen, ike, luc, sienna, jen, blade, liam, nashua, jeremy, tenderfoot, rosana, reynaldo, bee, mina, lindsey, harper, trixie, talulah, ednamillion, kristina, juliegh, steve burns, anji, rob, xavier, nora, daphne, mothers acting up, lauren, jamie, riley, sazrah, marshall, heather, tracey, carole, jamie, miro, holly, emma, lee, henry, jude, nicole, keely, mike, kanicee, jared, monk, cole, m*a*m*a*, amy, chloegrrrl, estevan, freya, francois, hailey, the girlmoms, samantha, bela & her grandpa, amelia, louise, susannah, liam & the little punk rock kids at kate's wedding

as well as the artwork of ayun halliday & heather cushman-dowdee, and excerpts from these mama made zines: the edgy-catin mama, eat yer heart out martha, the east village inky and hathor the cowgoddess.

how to get one:
send $14 via paypal to coleen@bust.com
or
via the postal service at
coleen murphy
PO box 57611
new Orleans, LA 70157-7611

if you are ordering several, it's $12 each + $2 mailing cost

for more info about the mama calendar, check this out: http://onebigmama.tripod.com/calendar.html

Coleen might be a little behind on orders because she has a sick kiddo, but I recommend the mama calendar highly, and I'm so mad at myself for not posting a link sooner.

Posted at 8:39 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

The Rest of the Story

December 23, 2003

Quite honestly, I have no idea what to believe about the "capture" of Saddam, but I find stories like this interesting, to say the least:

Ousted Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein was captured by Kurdish forces, then drugged and handed over to the American forces as a revenge against the rape of a tribal chief's daughter by the tyrant's psychopathic eldest son Uday, a media report said today.
The full story of the fallen dictator's capture last Saturday in a "spider hole" near his birthplace of Tikrit exposes the version peddled by Americans as incomplete.

Link courtesy of Nurse Ratched, in a post with more links about the capture.

Posted at 8:30 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Healing

December 23, 2003

I mentioned healing in my last post, and my friend Jeanne's contribution to helping me heal from Monk's difficult birth and my subsequent isolation. She didn't really do anything with intent to heal, but her presence in my life was enough to help me get over a lot of issues.

I remember, too, one of the first times I hung out with my friend Kate. It was after things had gotten bad with L, but we had pseudo-reconciled. I remember I was in one of my "life is so fucking cool" phases that I get into in between my "life is really fucking scary and unpredictable" phases. I was feeling so good, and L...wasn't. Never is, really. And has always kind of shunned me when I'm happy and loud and boisterous.

Anyway, I remember hanging out with Kate and just laughing and laughing. It felt so good to be able to laugh and have someone laugh with me. I have kind of a loud laugh, and I remember apologizing for laughing. APOLOGIZING! And Kate was all "I love it! Don't apologize."

It was very healing. I will always be thankful for that. Kate helped me to laugh again and not apologize.

The other night, hanging out with John, we were talking about our negative traits. I told him that my worst trait was interrupting. I interrupt people all the time, and I KNOW it's a problem I have but I can't seem to stop myself from doing it all of the time. I notice when I've done it, and I really get upset with myself about it. L used to tell me all the time that my interrupting him was a way for me to control him - was a form of abuse. This might be true, and I still think it's awful to interrupt people - but I'm usually really good about apologizing for it if someone points it out to me, and I usually know that I've interrupted JUST AFTER I have interrupted someone. In fact, I have gotten a lot better about noticing I'm ABOUT TO interrupt, and stopping myself before I do. I know L felt that my interrupting was a conscious attempt to control the conversation, but I feel that it's more of an unconscious thing. I just get excited, and I forget myself.

Still, I know I interrupted a few people SEVERAL TIMES the other day when I was at the park with some mamas, and I was pretty angry with myself about it. But when I told this to John, he was like "Yeah. I noticed you do that."

I thought he had said "I've never noticed that." And, thinking that he was assuming that being my friend means you have to ignore things that I do that are annoying, I was like "That's bullshit! If you haven't noticed that I interrupt people, you are totally in denial or something."

He responded, calmly, "No, I said I DID notice that. But, really, it's no big deal."

Not to say that his response made me feel absolved of my duty to try to stop interrupting people (which is my terminal new year's resolution) but it helped to hear someone say "Yes, I know you do this thing which is kind of sucky, but I still like you anyway."

You know?

It's important to me that the people in my life are realistic about who I am. That people in my life don't walk around thinking I'm perfect, so they can get totally shocked whenever I do something that belies perfection. It's important that people are open to tell me openly and honestly when I fuck up, and give me an opportunity to make up for it. Just like it's important for people to be open to hearing me call them out, even if there's no polite way of saying it.

I'm feeling like I have some pretty special people in my life right now. I always have, actually. I've just been focusing so much energy on one negative relationship, in spite of the fact that I haven't really wanted to, that I haven't been able to look around me at all of the lovely and wonderful people who contribute positively to my life - and to whose lives I want to positively contribute.

Solstice was a night of realization for me. I cried on the way home from the coffee shop last night, remembering the night before. Thinking about how hard I have worked to come to a place where I could enjoy a night with friends in my house. I cried, thinking about how there have been 3 special events here in three months, where the house was once again full of conversation, laughter, and warmth. It's such a good place to be. It's funny, too, because the house actually FEELS warmer these days.

I'm looking forward to many more celebrations here in 2004. Many more gatherings of friends. Many more wonderful conversations. Many hugs. Many kisses. Much healing, and much laughter.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me get to this point where I can feel joy again. Where there is so much hope. Where I almost feel like I can trust people again. Where I can feel good about the people who love me, and not worry that they only love me because they don't know me. Thank you. You know who you are, and I thank you.

Posted at 9:29 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Happy Solstice

December 22, 2003

It has been the most wonderful holiday in recent memory for me. I've struggled over the years to invent meaningful, ritualized holidays that the kids can enjoy, and it's so difficult because I just don't "feel it" with a lot of the traditional celebrations. I don't consider myself to be a pagan, either, so I can't just replace the proto-traditional with the actual-traditional and call it a day. Instead, I feel like I need to combine my ideas of what constitutes a perfect holiday and invent a sort of mishmash of fun and excitement for the kiddos that will still allow for joy and relaxation for me.

This solstice celebration was inspired by the fact that I spend much of my vacation sick in bed. I had been intending to do a lot of crafts, making gifts for the kids in my family who celebrate Christmas, as well as creating mix CDs for the older kids and grown ups on my growing list of people to whom I owe a debt of gratitude and appreciation that I'm sure I will never be able to repay.

I didn't get around to it.

As I began to consider what I would do to celebrate the solstice this year, I considered that the mythical relationship with earthly events is something that I can definitely identify with. I understand and appreciate the need to mark the longest night, the shortest night, and the equal night, as well as the phases of the moon. And I totally dig on creating a ritual to symbolize the importance of these events. So, in crafting my version the celebration of the longest night, it dawned on me that if I was going to stay up all night to keep vigil over the candlelight that would bring back the sun, I might as well use my awake time to undertake some of the creative projects that have been back-burnered due to illness. In other words, I would stay up all night and make the mix cd's, cookies, and homemade gifts that I would be giving to friends and family to celebrate the beginning of a new year.

And so, the plan was to invite some friends over to keep me company during this longest night, and to allow the children to stay up as late as they wished, and, because I have this sense that there's magic in the childhood ritual of expectation of gifts - and the joy in the fulfillment of that expectation, there would be a visit from the winter elf.

There would also be shared company, viewing of lights, and a sense of unhurried calm. The unhurried calm part is particularly difficult AND particularly important to me.

And so it was that the skeletal plan of our day emerged. We had been invited to a cookie decorating party at 2, after which we planned to take the bus down to the drag in Austin and meet up with friends to see the ostentatious and artful 37th street neighborhood holiday lights display, and then we were to come home and hang out with whoever was brave enough to join us in our nightlong celebration.

Things didn't go exactly as planned, but it was wonderful, nonetheless. We arrived at the cookie party a bit late, but the kids had fun, and I enjoyed the company of Megan, as well as some other mama friends who I haven't seen in awhile. We stayed for a couple of hours, and I realized that I couldn't just catch the bus right from there because we were all dressed all in dark clothing and didn't want to be wandering the streets at night like that. So we headed home and intended to change clothes and move right on out, but in the brief time that I spent rooting around for something to wear, Coley fell asleep. Hard. And I didn't want to wake him.

So the plan changed to us driving down to the drag. We had friends we were going to meet, so we did have a bit of a time constraint. I didn't want to stress out over time, but I also didn't want to miss seeing our friends.

While I was readjusting our schedule in my head, I heard my cat meowing out on the front porch, and opened to door to see my wonderful friend Jennifer standing there with a lovely little gift bag for me (!) She is such a sweetheart. Her daughter had also fallen asleep, but they were planning on heading down to the drag as well. I told her our plans had also changed and that I hoped to see her down there. Inside the gift bag was the most delightful little handmade bag with a rejuvenating eye pillow and the most beautiful collage notecards I think i have ever seen. It was truly wonderful and such a surprise. And the eye pillow came in handy later in the evening.

Shortly after Jen left, Coley awoke, and I set about getting everything together to head down to the drag. Dog shuffling, shoe donning, door locking, house checking, and out the door. I had left a message for the fabulous Susan (of comments fame) and her partner, Steve - hoping to meet up with them down there. I wasn't sure if they were going to make it, but I was thrilled to be meeting up with friends K and S and their 4 lovely children.

We met up at Wheatsville. I had parked a few blocks away, anticipating that I wouldn't want to walk far AFTER seeing the lights, and as we stepped onto the patio at Wheatsville, my phone rang. It was Steve, saying that they just got my message, and they were going to hurry up and meet up with us at Wheatsville. As I was talking to him, S walked out of the store, and I waved. We decided to get coffee and cocoa before seeing the lights, while we waited for the arrival of Susan and Steve.

It was fun. K&S and their family are such a great group of people to be around. K is smart, funny, kind of cynical, very sweet, and she is just my mama goddess because...I mean, she has 4 of the coolest, most boisterous, outspoken, wonderful kids I know. It's refreshing and exhausting and exhilirating to be around them, all at once. S, her husband, is just a super nice guy, too. I enjoy them all so much.

A funny story (although I'm sure K was totally embarrassed and I hope she's reading this so she knows that I thought it was truly very funny and no big deal at all - and if she doesn't read this, I'm going to bring it up when we go to the movies on Friday) - I saw a friend of mine while we were eating outside of wheatsville (wheatsville is one of theose places that you can't go to without meeting or seeing several people you know and haven't seen in awhile. I have so many fond memories of seeing people at wheatsville...It's just a great place.) Anyway, this friend of mine and I hadn't seen each other in awhile, so he asked the obligatory question - "How have you been?"

S, K's eldest son, blurted out "Her husband isn't living with them anymore!"

hahahahahaha. K looked like she was about to die, but I was really trying hard not to laugh. I'm not even sure if my friend heard him, but it was just a very funny moment.

Anyway, so we all enjoyed our coffee/hot cocoa/lemonade and then Susan and Steve arrived and we all headed out to see the lights together - except for K, who went off to pick up her daughter from a church function.

The lights display was nice. It was really crowded, but I didn't mind so much. The kids had a blast. I got Monk a glowstick, since he's been begging for one since I didn't get him one on the 4th of July. I figured since it's a celebration of light (or the lack thereof), a glowstick fits right into our ritual.

There's really no describing the lights on these houses on 37th street. There's a house that has a mock volcano (made out of lights) which erupts every 10 minutes or so. There's a house that has a whole yardful of artful lights strung every which way. People leave dollar bills hanging on a clothesline to help defray the cost of electricity. And, yes, it's excessive and probably bad for the environment and probably what our soldiers are dying for in Iraq...but...um...the kids had a lot of fun. If that counts for anything.

We were there for at least an hour, shuffling up and down the street with the thousands of other visitors. And then we said goodbye to K and S and the kids, and parted ways with Susan and Steve, who were going to meet up with us at my house to see how much of the all-nighter they could participate in.

Me and the kids got home and discovered that while we were gone, Twyla had dumped some of the cookie ingredients on the floor in search of something yummy. she chewed up a baggy filled with walnuts, but apparently found the nuts themselves not to her liking. It seemed like she had sniffed at the almonds and decided against them. I was pissed, but it could have been worse.

So I put the dogs out, and set about making cookies and lighting candles and preparing for guests. I had asked my friend John to join us in our holiday celebration, and he bravely agreed. John's good like that. He's also very good company, which is always nice. Plus my dogs love him. And vice versa. John's just...well, let's just say it's a joy to have him in my life. He said he would be right over. See...I like that in a man.

At any rate...Susan and Steven came over, and Monk instantly grabbed Steve and made him play yu-gi-oh with him, and then John arrived and played with the dogs a bit - he brought them treats. Isn't he swell? And then he disappeared back into the yu-gi-oh room and later monk emerged and said "look, mom - the girls are in the kitchen and the boys are all in the playroom." And me and susan looked down and realized that there we were baking cookies and knitting while Steve and John were playing, well, cards...with the kids in the living room. It was funny.

Cookies were baked, laughter was had...Steve and I spent about 3 hours trying to one-up each other on cool people we have met and/or cool bands we have seen. It got kind of intense for awhile there, and I'm not quite sure who ended up trumping whom. But then Susan completed her knitting project, which was a pair of sparkly gold wonder woman wrist cuffs (complete with red stars)...so i think she wins. She rules. I have not taken the wrist cuffs off, except to shower, since I put them on. I feel Wonderful and Invincible.

Monk and Cole evidently took me seriously when I told them they could stay up all night. They were bopping around the house making merry until I finally got tired of it and insisted that Monk go read a book. Within minutes, he was crashed. I think it was like 2 AM. Coley was still windmilling about the living room, having outlasted Susan and Steve, who left shortly after Monk passed out.

I double-dared John to stay up with me, and he rose to the challenge. I finally convinced coley that the best thing to do when one wants to stay awake all night is to watch a video (har har) and within minutes there were two bodies sprawled out on the playroom floor.

John helped me drag out the binful of toys and books I'd been gathering since the last holiday, and we looked through things to decide what to hide for the kids. Then we hid. John did a better job of hiding things than me. MOnk STILL hasn't found his "he's going to shit over it" gift, and I think that's a good thing. He was so pleased that he got a bionicle that he spontaneously started believing in the winter elf again ("sort of").

John left shortly after the sun came up. He was awesome company, and he helped me make some headway on the gift making. I didn't get as much done as I had planned because the kids stayed up so late, but that was ok. I still have time to do things, and it's not like there's an expiration date on sending out little gifts to family members. I'm just trying to take it easy.

Anyway, around about 8 or so, I told Monk that I Just had to take a little nap. I laid down and woke up when the phone rang around 8:45. My friend from alaska was calling to once again try to get together with me. We had been trying to get together since she got into town on Saturday, but she had so much going on with family that it just wasn't possible. Finally it was decided that I would go out there to Georgetown to visit her today. Her grandmother was making veggie lasagna! Noway I would turn down lasagna even on no sleep. So I told her that I needed to rest a bit and would be out there around noon, and then crawled into bed and totally blacked out until 11 or so.

I'm not sure how I managed to get up, get the kids ready, and get out the door (later I discovered that I had put cole's shoes on the WRONG FEET). I fed the kids m&m's and cookies for breakfast because I was really too tired to argue.

Seeing Jeanne was so nice. Her family is lovely. I felt comfortable around her relatives and her partner and her kids, and it was like old times. Jeanne was like the first mama friend I made after I had Monk. TWO YEARS after I had Monk. I basically had no community during those first few years, and it was bad bad horrible. All mamas should have friends like Jeanne to induct them into mamahood. She's rad and cool and gentle and kind. Remember when I said that I knew I would feel energized whenever I got to see Jeanne again? I totally do. Right now. She's just such a force of goodness and inspiration in my life. I love her dearly. And I really wish I could have spent a lot more time with her (and I just realized that I didn't thank her grandmother for a lovely meal - I was so out of it while I was there that I'm amazed that I remembered to bring my kids home! I should call and thank them now.) but we had to get back because it was getting to be the time when L comes over to watch the kids. Hugs, hugs, more hugs, goodbyes and "don't stay away so long next time - and when you come back, make it be for weeks instead of days!"

I got home and L was waiting and I crashed in bed, thinking that was probably enough joy and kinship to bouy me into the new year. But when I woke up there were cards in the mailbox and money from mom and I called her and cried. And even though she's not perfect, she's my mama. And even though she makes mistakes, I love that woman. She's a strong women, strong-willed and strong of fortitude. I admire her and I am endlessly frustrated by her, but I love her dearly.

I took the money she sent me and took myself out to dinner at Thai Village. They have a spicy basil tofu dish there that is one of my favorite things to eat of all time. It was heavenly, and my waiter was so nice. It was a great self-date.

And, now, here I am after all of this. I'm sitting in a coffee shop - almost time for me to go home. I'm thinking about having a slice of cake, but thinking I have cookies at home and more cookies to bake. I'm thinking about all of the wonderful people in my life and all that they have brought to me - all that has been given. And I'm thinking about how to give back. To give and give and give. I understand that there is an ebb and flow - that all people have periods of taking and periods of giving. I feel so full of love and life right now. It's truly a beautiful thing.

Tonight will be long again, and I will sleep peacefully through it. Last night's vigil candle melted all over the beautiful plate that I used as it's holder and tonight I will allow darkness to descend upon my house because I know that in the morning - maybe late in the morning, but in the morning nonetheless, the sun will poke out from behind the clouds and we will enjoy another day's adventures together.

Peace to all of you. I hope you are enjoying whatever you are engaged in at this time of year.

Posted at 7:51 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

This post brought to you by the letters J and S and the number "you fucking rule"

December 22, 2003

Sorry, i just had to say that. My friend John gave me a wireless modem as a solstice gift, and I'm sitting here at my favorite coffee shop BLOGGING. It's so exciting.

It's been an excellent holiday for me - beginning yesterday and lasting until I go to bed tonight. I would like to post a detailed description of all of the events of the past 36 or so hours, but I think I will do so in a new entry, because I want this post to stand on its own in appreciation for yummy wi-fi goodness.

Can I get a Hell, Yeah?

Posted at 7:14 PM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

Huntley, Carr, and the abusive male.

December 21, 2003

I found this article interesting not only because it juxtaposed the images and deeds of saddam hussein with Soham murderer, but also because it raises the question of the demonization of the woman in this case:

Since the Soham trial lacked a monster from central casting, Maxine Carr gets the role. A fellow prisoner has thrown boiling water at her, and the media hold her guilty of murder by proxy.
On the night of the killings, Carr was at a party. The outing might, her critics claim, have pushed a jealous Huntley over the brink. 'Kiss of death' screamed the headline over a picture of her embracing a fellow reveller.

That snapshot in a Grimsby disco placed Carr in a pantheon of female monsters, ranging from the Harpies and the Sirens of Greek legend to Rose West. In myth and in distorted reality, women, deadlier than the male, occupy a spectrum between psychopathy and culpability for engineering family breakdown and producing delinquent children. Carr, branded the 'new Myra' and the catalysing agent of evil, was actually a liar whose mistake was to shack up with a murderer.

In being duped by Huntley's charm, she resembled the police, the school staff, the community and the two trusting girls he murdered. She behaved as others might, and for that reminder of our fallibility, more than her mendacity, she can never be forgiven. In a universe where religious language and political discourse collide, Carr is banished forever from the civilised world to reside

In catching up on the various news stories about this case, I find myself getting really angry at the assumption that Carr is as guilty as Huntley, and somehow less guilty than the police agencies that continued to let Huntley off the hook after countless accusations of rape and sex with underage girls.

I'm not saying that Carr isn't culpable. I have no idea how much she might have known about the crimes that were committed, but the flaying of her in the media is yet another example of how abusive men are able to manipulate people and displace blame.

Posted at 10:11 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

I could spend hours here

December 20, 2003

And, in fact, the kids in the computer club DID spend about an hour or so here, making snowflakes.

There's a kid that is in our homeschool co-op who is so cool. He's really good with paper art like origami, and I showed him Nikki McClure's paper cut art and he got all excited about it. I guess it's just inspiring for me to see a 9-year old kid who gets so worked up about art.

Anyway, we had fun in our second installation of computer club, making snowflakes, laughing, and talking about uteruses.

WHOAH! As I was typing this entry, My friend J called. She is FINALLY in town! Yay! I'm so excited to see her I feel like I'm going to burst. Instead, I need to finish up my stuff here and wait for her to call with her plans for the evening. I'm going to give her the biggest, squashiest hug I can muster, though. I'm building up the hugginess right now as we speak.

yummy jeanney goodness!

Posted at 3:41 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Hold Me Back!

December 19, 2003

I'm about to take coley to a fancy-pants local toy store that specializes in cool wooden toys and other such expensive items.

I'm doing this because I just checked my bank balance, and due to some creative (non)bill-paying, and various other forms of money shuffling, I feel that I have "a little extra" to spend on the kids - and I suddenly got a bug up my butt and felt like I just NEEDED to go and see if there's a little wooden castle or dollhouse or something that I can get for our new playroom to go along with the big castle playhut my sister sent. I figure if I can get something cool that they can both play with, I can justify blowing a small wad of cash.

In reality, I just want to see their eyes light up on Monday morning when they do their little search for toys, which the last few holidays has netted them educational and art supplies and nothing toy-like whatsoever. I just want them to have something special to share.

Anyway, I have to go before I rethink this and start acting sensible again. Wish me luck.

Posted at 1:02 PM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

I just have to share...

December 19, 2003

This site (this post) is #2 under the search term: where+are+the+WMD+asswipe at google.

I couldn't be more proud.

Posted at 9:57 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Men, Abuse, and Me

December 19, 2003

I feel like I need to/want to address some of the issues that came up here last week with my posts about abuse and the subsequent comments which I felt were inappropriate. I didn't want to explain myself any further last week, because I didn't feel like explaining my viewpoint to a certain individual or anyone coming over from his site was productive or worthwhile, but I do feel like it's worth my while to process this stuff, and it might be worthwhile for me to process it out loud.

This might get long and rambly and, starting out, I'm not even sure what my point will be or if I have a point. I have spent the past week or so trying to sort out the emotions behind the "discussion" last week - and really trying to figure out if this is a safe place to even discuss my personal experience within the context of an abusive relationship. Or if it's even ethical for me to discuss my abusive relationship, considering you are only hearing my end of it and not the "other side" as it were. And there is plenty that I need to say and clarify about that - at least introspectively - and since I dragged the readers of my blog into it, I might as well say it out loud.

First of all, I need to state something so that it's clear and absolute. I have never asserted that there is never a situation in which a man is abused by a woman. It would be ludicrous for me to state this or even really think it. I have never known a man to be abused by a woman, but that doesn't mean that abused men do not exist.

However, I do harbor a great deal of suspicion for men who press the issue of the battered man as if it deserves equal time/attention/funding as the issue of battered women AS A SOCIAL ISSUE. Obviously, on a personal level, abuse does not discriminate based on gender, but when you add the institution of sexism to an abusive relationship, you end up with a great deal of imbalance that simply isn't part of the equation when discussing battered men.

So, yes, anecdotally speaking, I feel extreme empathy for any man who has been beaten or otherwise abused by a woman. And I'm sure I would comiserate...if I actually knew any men who could honestly tell me that this was their reality. Fortunately, I do not. Instead, I hear from men who want to tell me that I am somehow denying their experience as ostensibly non-abused men by focusing only on my personal experience of abuse. It's ridiculous. I mean, I can ALMOST see this being an issue if I were to speak about abuse in the abstract, although for the reasons stated above, it's not an issue as far as I'm concerned...but to be accused of denying the existence of the battered male when I am discussing my own personal abusive relationship is at best absolutely absurd. There are no abused men in my relationship, although my husband would like you to think there is.

Speaking of my husband, I have for years debated about the ethics of posting potentially disparaging remarks about him in my blog. Obviously, no human being wants to be known as the "abusive ex spouse" or "the jackass I had kids with" or whatever else I might conjure up in a negative space. My conclusion, after years of arguing with myself about this, is that *I* own my experiences, and I am allowed to write about the experiences that are mine. The problem with this is that there is a very important dynamic in our relationship which is caused by a reality that my husband faces, and by intentionally not discussing that dynamic or reality (because it is not an experience that I feel I own) I probably come across as less than sympathetic when it comes to my husband. You, dear reader, will just have to trust me when I tell you I don't lack sympathy for the father of my children. The problem is that having sympathy for him was getting in the way of me creating a healthy household for myself and my children. Sympathy was not enough to make things better. I don't hate my husband, and I don't wish him dead, and I don't wish him out of my life. I simply wish (probably unrealistically) for him to stop using manipulative and controlling tactics to evade responsibility for his actions (or non-actions.) That frustration is there, and it builds up, and if it doesn't get expressed - it causes a tremendous amount of anger. People who see only that dimension of my relationship with him are probably going to think that I walk around here like a ticking timebomb while he is here. I don't. Most of the time, I'm able to interact with him calmly and cordially. I know, too, that he loves it when I don't, because it enables him to tell me that I'm irrational or "too" emotional or whatever else.

I found this passage in the book interesting, as I can relate to it to a great extent:

How Society Adopts the Abuser's Perspective
Almost anyone can become an ally of an abusive man by inadvertantly adopting his perspective. People usually don't even notice that they are supporting abusive thinking, or they wouldn't do it. Let's examine some of the most common forms of accidental support:

The person who says to the abused woman: "You should show him some compassion even if he has done bad things. Don't forget that he's a human being too."

I have almost never worked with an abused woman who overlooked her partner's humanity. The problem is the reverse: He forgets her humanity. Acknowledging his abusiveness and speaking forcefully and honestly about how he has hurt her is indispensable to her recovery. It is the abuser's perspective that she is being mean to him by speaking bluntly about the damage he has done. To suggest ot her that his need for compassion should come before her right to live free from abuse is consistent with the abuser's outlook. I have repeatedly seen the tendency among friends and acquaintances of an abused woman to feel that it is their responsibility to make sure that she realizes what a great person he really is inside - in other words, to stay focused on his needs rather than her own, which is a mistake. People who wish to help an abused woman should instead by telling her what a good person she is.

[...]

The person who says: "These abuse activists are anti-male."

How is it anti-male to be against abuse? Are we supposed to pretend we don't notice that hte overwhelming majority of abusers are male? This accusation parallels the abuser's words to his partner: "The reason you think I'm abusive is because you have a problem with men*!" One of the best counters to this piece of side-tracking is to point out how many men are active in combating the abuse of women. Remember allso that abused women are the sisters, daughters, mothers, and friends of men; mens lives are affeted by abuse, because it happens to women we know and care about.

*Yes, I have heard that exact quote from L.

Another way L's abuse manifests is in the way he attempts or has attempted to manipulate me based on my strong beliefs. For years, I allowed him to stay in the home because there was an implied threat that if I split up with him, I would be unable to homeschool the children. And, in fact, after I went to work on the day I told him that I was completely serious about breaking up, he told Monk that Monk "was going to be starting 2nd grade, and mama will pack you a lunch, and you will get to play on the playground with all of the other kids." I came home to hear this part of the story from Monk, as well as an emphatic "And I'm on dad's side, mom. I want to go to school now."

Earlier that day, I had actually asked Monk if he was satisfied with his experience as a homeschool. I wasn't threatening or leading him. I was honestly curious if he felt his needs were being filled. He told me emphatically that he never wanted to go to school. Ever.

L has also used my political beliefs as a means to attempt to manipulate me. He criticized me for "dragging the state into our relationship" when I told him I wanted a divorce. And he justifies much of his irresponsibility by saying that he thought we lived an "alternative lifestyle" in which this particular kind of irresponsibility is acceptable.

Of course, I believe I have told the story of Cole's birth, where L refused to take Monk out of the house when I was in labor. I was trying to get some rest, and Monk was punching and kicking and slapping me because I would not play with him. I pleaded with L to please take him away so I could get some rest, because I was in labor. L stretched out on the bed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep, leaving me to fend for myself. I remember I called a friend in tears, begging for her to come and take care of Monk so I could rest up for the birth. She was planning to come over right from work, and for some reason I told L that I was expecting someone to come get Monk at 5:30. At 5:15, L got out of bed and took Monk out to go buy some shoes, so when my friend got there, they were gone. This is very much the same kind of abuse that L demonstrates when he refuses to stay here and watch the kids when I am sick. I spent practically my entire vacation in bed, and he left 1-2 hours early each day...because I was here in the house and he felt "uncomfortable" watching the kids with me here - even though most of the time I was curled up under the covers fighting whatever illness had taken over.

In fact, it is the story of how L acted when I was in labor with Cole that I go back to again and again as the tangible evidence of his abusive behavior towards me. It's not the only evidence of abuse, but it's the only tangible evidence. It's the only clear, unobfuscated anecdote I can relate to people to help them to understand what it is like to live with L.

Other than that, L is pretty much a textbook (according to this book) "Water Torturer:"

The Water Torturer's style proves that anger doesn't cause abuse. He can assault his partner psychologically without even raising his voice. He tends to stay calm in arguments, using his own evenness as a weapon to push her over the edge. He often has a superior or contemptuous grin on his face, smug and self-assured. He uses a repertoire of aggressive conversational tactics at low volume, including sarcasm, derision - such as openly laughing at her - mimicking her voice, and cruel, cutting remarks. [...]he tends to take things she has said and twist them beyond recognition to make her appear absurd [...]He gets to his partner through a slow but steady stream of low-level emotional assaults[...]He is relentless in his quiet derision and meanness.
The impact on a woman of all these subtle tactics is that either her blood temperature rises to a boil or she feels stupid and inferior, or some combination of the two. In an argument, she may end up yelling in frustration, leaving the room crying, or sinking into silence. The Water Torturer then says, "See, you're the abusive one, not me. You're the one who's yelling and refusing to talk things out rationally. I wasn't even raising my voice. It's impossible to reason with you."

The psychological effects of living with the Water Torturer can be severe. His tactics can be difficult to identify, so they sink in deeply. Women can find it difficult not to blame themselves for their reactions to what their partner does if they don't even know what to call it. When someone slaps you in the face, you know you've been slapped. But when a woman feels psychologically assaulted, with little idea why, after an argument with the Water Torturer, she may turn her frustration inward. How do you seek support from a friend, for example, when you don't know how to describe what is going wrong?

[...]If you are involved with a Water Torturer, you may struggle for years trying to figure out what is happening. You may feel that you overreact to his behavior and that he isn't really so bad. But the effects of his control and contempt have crept up on you over the years. If you finally leave him, you may experience periods of delayed rage, as you become conscious of how quietly but deathly oppressive he was.

[...]
The central attitudes driving the Water Torturer are:

You are crazy. You fly off the handle over nothing.

I can easily convince other people that you're the one who is messed up

As long as I'm calm, you can't call anything I do abusive, no matter how cruel

I know exactly how to get under your skin

I also found some of the characteristics of "The Victim" familiar, and perhaps that is why I'm so suspicious of men who press the issue of the battered male:

When the Victim joins an abuser group, his story tends to go like this: "I put up with my partner's mistreatment of me for years, and I never fought back or even tried to defend myself. But I finally couldn't take it anymore, and I started to give her back a little taste of what she was doing to me. So now I've been labeled abusive. Women are allowed to do these things and nobody cares, but as soon as a man does it he's a pariah."
This line of reasoning many times develops into a discussion of how men are the victims of women overall in society, because women run the world. This is a startling distortion, given which gender actually dominates almost all legislatures, police departments, judgeships, businesses, and so on ad nauseum. When I point out this reality to the Victim, he describes a kind of paranoid fantasy in which women are behind the scenes secretly pulling the strings, largely by getting men to feel sorry for them. His capacity for turning things into their oposites in this way is a central cause of his abusiveness.

One of the things L told me when things really started going downhill for us was that he was tired of my shit, and tired of me treating him the way I was treating him (although in the three years I earnestly asked for a clear definition of how he was being mistreated, he was never able to come up with one) and that he was just not going to take it anymore. He asserted that he had done his best to be nice and accommodating to me, but that he felt he no longer owed me that. And, poof, from that point on he basically refused to go out of his way to do anything to make my life any easier, in spite of the fact that I was basically in a position where I couldn't NOT make his life easier. If that makes any sense. In other words, he knew that if he abdicated responsibility with regard to the children, I was not going to let it harm them, and i would pick up the slack. I would buy food. I would pay the bills. I would continue to be the responsible adult because someone had to take care of the children. Basically, the way I see it, L invented a reason to be resentful of me - a reason that might very well have been based on an actual wrongdoing on my part, but which remained undisclosed ("If you don't know by now, there's no hope that you will ever know." he would say. And yet, he refused to leave the relationship because one day I "might straighten up and start acting right.") so I was not able to apologize or correct my behavior - and he used that as an excuse to act like an ass towards me, regardless of how clearly I expressed that I felt his behavior towards me was inappropriate, and regardless of my attempts at trying to rectify our problems with each other.

I also have to say that I do not feel that all men are abusive. At the same time, many men, when I have spoken with about my relationship with L and the passages from this book that I am relating to, have responded by saying that they see themselves in those passages, and it makes them uncomfortable. I have to say that there are some parts of the book that I see myself in, as well. I think the key is power, and how power is handled in a relationship.

For instance, in my relationship with L, for the past 3 years, I have been the sole income-earner in our household. I've been wary of this, because I believe this places a lot of unasked-for power into my hands. However, I have not desired to be the sole income-earner, and I have told L many times that he needed to earn some money to help the household get back into financial shape. His excuse has always been that my schedule doesn't allow for him to get a job (I work evenings) but I have made it clear that I have several options for babysitters and could make it work. He also claims that he does not wish to leave cole with babysitters until he's "whatever age is about a year past the age he is currently." This would be an admirable excuse if all of my babysitting options weren't personal friends of mine who I trust beyond a doubt with my kids, and if the kids would be in any childcare situation for more than an hour or so a day.

At any rate, it turns out that all of my fears of being in a position of power in my relationship with L were totally unfounded. In actuality, L is in a position of power, because he is the one with the ultimate ability to abdicate his parental responsibilities, but to continue to hold the threat over my head that he can somehow prove that I am an inadequate parent. This is an unstated and probably unrealistic threat, but it exists nonetheless. And I find it's a fairly consistent dynamic in the lives of single mama friends of mine. Everyone seems to, at one point or another, freak out about the possibility of having their custodial rights challenged or taken away by the biological father of the children. This is a particular challenge for my mama friends who are poor and/or leading alternative lifestyles of one sort or another.

Believe it or not, the book had something to say about this, as well, in the chapter called "Abusive Men as Parents" in the section titled "The Abuser's Tactics in Custody Disputes:"

Appealing to Popular Misconceptions Several misleading arguments appear repeatedly in statements that abusers make during family court litigation. First is the claim that fathers are widely discriminated against by family courts in custody disputes. The research actually shows the opposite, that in fact fathers have been at a distinct advantage in custody battles in the United States since the late 1970's, when the maternal preference went out of vogue. Next often comes the myth that children of divorce fare better in joint custody, when the research shows overwhelmingly that they in fact do worse, except in those cases where their parents remain on good terms after the divorce and can co-parent cooperatively - which is almost impossible for a woman to do with an abusive ex-partner. Abusive men also assert falsely that there is a rampant problem of women's false allegations of abuse, that child support obligations are unfairly high, that domestic abuse is irrelevant to custody decisions, and that men are abused in relationships as much as women.

I think I'm going to have to end this for now, and perhaps take it up later. I'm feeling a little exposed after what happened last week, but I also feel like I have a lot to tell. I feel like I am lucky to have been able to get out of my relationship with L with relatively little damage. I think my financial position, and the fact that I was already earning an income that I knew could at least mostly cover all of the living expenses here is what really saved my ass. I worry for the mamas who are in relationships in which they basically live at the mercy of their abusive partners. Even in my position, it took years to really gather the strength to leave the situation.

Before I close this, I need to vent a little anger at some people who I feel were insensitive (and continue to be insenstive) to the issues I am discussing here. One person in particular, who I had really assumed was someone who was at least a good acquaintance if not a friend, said some fairly awful things about me behind my back WHILE I WAS CHATTING WITH HIM on AIM. I thought that was pretty crappy. I also resent being belittled, and having it implied that my problems with my relationship with L were somehow the result of immaturity on my part or an inability on my part to "compromise" or truly "love." Believe it or not, I do know what love feels like, and I know what love looks like, and I know what love IS. I hope the person who said these things is not put in a situation where he has to actually communicate on a face to face level with a woman who is processing an abusive relationship, because I worry that he is capable of doing some severe damage. In addition, there were several people who actually diagnosed me with a mental illness for setting boundaries in my space about what I felt was appropriate in the context of my processing. This pissed me off not only because it was potentially harmful to me (I was, however, relieved to find that it had a relatively minor affect on me) but also because I know for a fact that there are women reading this blog who identify and relate very strongly with what I am writing about, and for a person to feel entitled to come here and invalidate what I am relating and then to proceed to call me crazy for voicing objection to this invalidation is just absolutely the very definition of abuse. It is damaging because it discourages women from speaking their truth about their experiences. And, basically, it just sucks all around. I am not saying these things to start another argument. I am saying these things because they need to be said.

I want to also explain a little something about me. I don't fuck around with people who I don't give a shit about. In other words, if I get from you that you are worthy of my time and will actually respect and listen to my explanations of things, I will give you my respect. I'm so pleased to be an adult and to be allowed to make these decisions for myself. If you have somehow indicated that you are not worthy of my respect (HINT: typically people who say racist/sexist/heterosexist shit are NOT worthy of my respect or time) I will probably not be very nice to you. It's just the way it goes. I don't have time to politely explain myself to every idiot who wanders in here demanding explanation and respect. If I feel you are beyond hope, I'm not going to waste my valuable time or yours attempting to live up to your warped idea of what I "owe" to you.

And, too, I want to thank those of you who were supportive of the way I handled those interactions. There were many who voiced and displayed support in numerous ways, both publically and privately, and I appreciate it.

I'll probably write more on this topic later, and I want to dig up some links to some of the heavier subjects in this post, but I really need to get some sleep. I hope everyone is having a good night/morning/afternoon. Until I post again...take care.

Posted at 12:20 AM • Comments (16) • TrackBack

I'm so disappointed!

December 18, 2003

Hey, what's UP? I thought I could post that last post, walk away, and be inundated with yummy links to great blog posts to share with my clas. Instead...I got NUTHIN'.

There's still time? I'm frantically searching for good examples...please feel free to share yours.

Posted at 4:25 PM • Comments (6) • TrackBack

Blog Class, continued...(please ping this post)

December 18, 2003

OK, today is the day I'm going to link up all of your previous suggestions for good blogs.

Now, I'm asking another favor. Tonight, I'm going to talk about the craft of blogging. How links are used, and how posts are crafted to make them fun and informative to read.

So, if you can send me links to posts that you feel are particularly well crafted, please do so! You can send me links to your own posts, too, if you'd like. I just want to make sure I have a wide array of diverse posts, because I have a vastly diverse class that I'm working with (and we are all having so much fun learning about blogs, by the way! I'm having a blast with this class.) I'm looking for specific posts here, not blogs in general, but POSTS that reflect blogging as a craft.

Thanks! And if you can, could you pass this on to the readers of your blog, so I can get as many responses as possible. Please ping this post! Pretty Please!!!

Posted at 11:41 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Never Too Late

December 18, 2003

Never Too Late
Franti

Don't fear your best friends, because a best friend would never try to do you wrong.

And don't fear your worst friends, because a worst friend is just a best friend that's done you wrong.

And don't fear the night time, because the monsters know you're devine.

And don't fear the sunshine, because everything is better in the summertime.

But it's never too late to start the day over, it's never to late, pick up the phone.

You know it's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulders,

it's never too late just come on home.

Don't fear the water, because you can swim inside you within your skin.

And don't fear your father, because a father's just a boy without a friend.

And don't fear to walk slow, don't be a horserace, be a marathon.

And don't fear the long road, because on the long road you got a long time to sing a simple song.

But it's never too late to start the day over, it's never too late, pick up the phone.

You know it's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulders,

it's never too late just come on home.

Don't fear your teachers, because if you listen you can hear music in a school bell.

And don't fear your preacher, if you can't find heaven in a prison cell.

And don't fear your own self, paying money to justify your worth.

And don't fear your family, because you chose them along time before your birth.

But it's never too late to start the day over, it's never too late, pick up the phone.

You know it's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulders,

it's never too late just come on home.

Hold to your children, hold to your children, hold to your children,
let them know.

Posted at 10:22 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Jason Rocks

December 18, 2003

Just wanted to give a shout out to Jason in all his marathon-y goodness. You freaking RULE, Jason.

Posted at 9:03 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Why It's fun to be me.

December 18, 2003

Well, I mean there are lots and lots of reasons. But my favorite reason for today is because I got to actually say "...please stop using Elvis as a weapon" out loud and in proper context. I think everyone should get an opportunity to hear themselves say absolutely absurd things on a regular basis. It makes life so much more interesting.

By the way, Elvis has been banished to the top of the fridge, where he can no longer be used to strike big brothers repeatedly at the whim of a certain baby brother.

Of course, the other toy currently at the top of the fridge is the foam rubber sword that Monk decided would be fun to throw at us. Hard. Even after I told him he needed to stop. (He was practicing his sword throwing - going for accuracy.)

I hope that Elvis doesn't realize that he has every right to be really pissed off that he has been abandoned up there (totally naked, aside from the underwear that has been molded into his plasticine body) seeing as he has access to a weapon and all.

OK, I think it really is time for me to go to sleep. Hahahhaahaha.

But remember, folks...DON'T use Elvis as a weapon, and DON'T use your penis as a gun.

Posted at 12:27 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Endless Lists

December 17, 2003

I just realized today, when I received an invitation to ANOTHER homeschool event that involved MORE work (this one was "bring a homemade present to exchange with the other kids") that I have been ducking out on ALL of the holiday parties because I just don't have the time to make things or the money to buy things or, really, the resources to donate things. In the last week, I've skipped a book exchange, a donation drive, and it's likely I'll be skipping this party tomorrow.

Which sucks, because if I could get my shit together, I would be able to gather tons of stuff to donate, make tons of things to exchange, and package old toys and various other things to give to our homeschool friends. It was what I was intending to do over my vacation. The vacation I'm STILL recovering from.

I'm thankful for two things right now. First, that I'm allowing for a lot of self-forgiveness and trying really hard not to beat myself up over it. Things will get done. I will get my shit together. No one will die if they don't get their magic kit or mix tape until, oh, about mid-February (notice how I'm saying this over and over again in my posts. Like plugging my ears and yelling "I will not stress out over the holidays! I WILL NOT STRESS OUT OVER THE HOLIDAYS!! I WILL NOT STRESS OUT OVER THE HOLIDAYS!!!")

This time of year is generally when I set my priorities and figure out what I should throw away and what I should keep. It's like a spring cleaning of the soul, which would explain why I'm talking about myself so damn much and can't seem to muster a post about Saddam and Osama - or any of the thousands of other relevant political topics others are discussing with clarity and perspicacity. There are so many things to put in order in my life that I find myself spinning around and around in circles trying to figure out what to work on next. I need to transcribe some of these conversations I'm having with myself so I can use the visual cues and actually get something done rather than chasing my tail. And I will do that...possibly tomorrow...definitely once this class is over at work and I can eliminate one of the major stressors.

The good thing about having so much to work on is having so much to look forward to. Change is inspiring and I need the psychic ass-kicking that major changes bring about.

So, I'm poking my head up, spying into year 2k4...and I'm not making any lofty predictions or anything, but secretly I'm feeling like it only gets better from here.

Posted at 4:28 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Ladies and Gentlemen, I think he GETS IT.

December 16, 2003

I don't know if I've mentioned that Monk and Cole and I have all been getting along so well since my last major "I'm such a horrible mom" crisis. I'm happy that I don't go nuts over the holidays and try to do everything, because I think that would just drive our little family completely insane. I was sick, so the presents I was making might end up being late. Big deal. It's always more fun to get that one straggler present after all of the holiday madness is over, anyway. I'll finish making the magic kits when I get around to it. I will make the mix CD's when I have time, and I will spend the meantime trying to be as centered and relaxed as possible while everyone flys around me, spinning wheels and freaking out.

Anyway, today Monk went to his craft co-op and they talked about the solstice. We have been reading from Circle Round, which is something we try to do at every change of seasons. There are lots of good stories, and lots of gentle suggestions for celebration, and all of it is very positive and focused on gentle renewal. It's fun and relaxing to read it, even as I'm peeling coley off of my body, and asking him not to pinch my arm for the eleventy-millionth time. So, he's starting to understand the spirit of the season...or what I consider to be the spirit of the season.

Which is why I was so thrilled when, on our way home from co-op, Monk brought up the subject of money again - specifically, whether we have "enough" money. Some of you might remember that just a couple of weeks ago, Monk had bemoaned the fact that "all of his friends" have "fancy houses" and we don't have ANY fancy things.

Today, he had a different perspective, and I'm not sure if I can take credit for it, or if it's something he discussed with his friends or if maybe it's just something that is sinking in with him as we discuss other cultures, other people, other kinds of celebration. We also had a brief discussion about Iraq and the definition of "winning" as it relates to war. We were turning a corner on the way home, and Monk just said "We are lucky that we have enough money to support our pleasant household."

Picture me, breathing a sigh of relief. It can get so hard sometimes to convey abundance to the children when inside I am freaking out about not having enough. I don't want them to feel like they are disadvantaged, because they really are not. We have the privilege of having a home, and having just about everything we NEED - if not all that we want. And this is what I told Monk. I told him I was happy that he understood that we had these privileges, and that I'm proud to be his mama, and I'm happy that we have the time to enjoy each other.

I'm so thankful that I have these beautiful children to remind me of all that I have, and to distract me from thinking of all that I have not. I feel like a very wealthy mama today.

Posted at 5:38 PM • Comments (6) • TrackBack

The Dickification of the American Female

December 16, 2003

I agree with Ms. Lauren that this is the best response to that idiot's essay on "the pussification of the american male"

I want our literature to become more female, less male. Women shouldn't buy "self-help" books unless the subject matter is baking, sexual techniques that give men pleasure, or how to remove a jammed toast in a fcuking Black & Decker toaster. We don't improve ourselves, we improve our small home appliances.
And finally, I want women everywhere to going back to being Real Women. To cook meals for men, to shine that kitchen floor to a spot-free shine, to clean up after a meal, to go down on their husbands when they need it.

In every sense of the word. We know what the words "if you think so honey" mean.

Sadly, No!: The Dickification of the Western Female

Posted at 10:09 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Maybe by the time Monk is 12, I will be able to afford this

December 16, 2003

The Thames & Kosmos Fuel Cell Car & Experiment Kit provides a playful introduction to one of the most significant technologies of the 21st Century. With this kit you can build a model car that actually runs on water!

Pour in the water and watch it separate into hydrogen and oxygen, forming a gas to power your vehicle across the floor. Now that we have your attention, roll up your sleeves and find out more through experiments and demonstrations you can do on your own, in a classroom or with friends.

Thames & Kosmos > Products > Fuel Cell Car & Experiment Kit

link via boingboing

Posted at 9:34 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

The Cuteness of Cole

December 16, 2003

Cole walks around holding things now. I don't know how to explain how or why this is so cute, but there is something unbearably adorable about the fact that he's walking around chowing on a humongous apple, which he is holding in one hand (and which he was given after running into the bedroom yelling out a request for "a red-dapple that is washed!") and in the other hand he is holding:

One large wood block
a decapitated lego person
a matchbox helicopter

If we were to go out somewhere now, he would insist on bringing all of these items with him, which is probably why I have endless amounts of mismatched toys all over my car.

Posted at 9:05 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Blogging Class Blog

December 15, 2003

PssSSSssst! Check out the blog I have started up for the first run of my blogging class. Pretty spiffy, eh?

I'm going to use some of the suggestions you have offered when I talk about focus and content. If you have any more suggestions that fit within the agenda, let me know!

I'm such a nerd! This class is going to be soooooooo fun to teach.

Posted at 5:03 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Grocery Day and the politics of food.

December 15, 2003

Another one of the endless lists I am composing in my head these days is "What would it take for me to be financially comfortable." or, perhaps rather "What will it look like when I AM financially comfortable."

There have been many times in my life where I have felt financially comfortable. Most of my life actually. But for parts of those times, I have wanted more than what I could afford, even though I could afford plenty. My desire at this point, is to define a lifestyle in which I am financially comfortable, so I know to stop wanting when I get there.

This came to me today when I was at the grocery store. I now alternate between going to Whole Foods and getting the specialty and organic items that I need from there, and going to HEB and getting, well, cheap food. I shop 2-3 times a month (with occasional trips for produce and quickies in between) and I plan the menu for the week in advance. There are items in each store that I only get there.

I find that when I shop at Whole Foods, I buy mostly staples and very very few convenience foods. The convenience foods there are way out of my price range, but the bulk items and other staples are well within. And I average about 120-150 dollars for 10-14 days of groceries there, including dog and cat food.

When I shop at H.E.B. - I buy a LOT of convenience foods. Frequently, the convenience foods are less expensive than it seems like it would cost to buy the individual ingredients. I know there is a social, ecological, and health cost to buying these convenience foods that I'm forcing someone else to pay, but at this point I kind of have to plug my ears and close my eyes and plow down the aisle in my heavily-laden grocery cart.

So, part of what I think it will look like for me to be financially comfortable is to (once again) be able to buy groceries that are not convenience items, that are mostly organic, and that are produced and distributed in a fair and humane way. (I do only buy fair trade coffee, even now, because coffee's more of a luxury than anything else, and if I can't afford fair trade, I just can't afford coffee).

Of course, I'll still fight for other peoples' right to have healthy, humanely and ecologically produced food available to them at an affordable cost, but somehow I think that's going to take a couple of lifetimes of struggle to achieve. How ridiculous is it that it costs less for me to cook up a pot of Pokemon mac and cheese (YOU try resisting the baleful eyes of a Monk deprived...besides, this is a total comfort food treat for me. I haven't had flourescent orange mac-n-cheese for 15 years or more. It kind of reminds me of liz's hair!) than it does to steam up a wokful of fresh, organic veggies and rice.

Another overly simplistic statement for the day: "Healthful food should not cost more than unhealthful food."

Posted at 1:20 PM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

Thinking in Bed

December 15, 2003

This morning I was able to lay in bed and think for about an hour or so. The alarm somehow got set, and the radio was tuned to NPR, so there was this "all saddam all the time" kind of atmosphere swirling through my thoughts, but mostly my thoughts were (as they have been much of the time, lately) focused inward.

I was thinking about how to conduct my blogging class tonight, for one thing. I have a lot of material and I want to make it fun and interactive. So I was thinking about giving a basic introduction to blogs tonight and let the clients surf blogs for a good portion of the evening and report their findings back to me. Perhaps pairing them up for this to add a dimension of teamwork or collaboration.

But I was also thinking about a friend I have in my life right now. I'm trying to figure out what I can learn from him. He is in a very inwardly focused phase of his life right now, too - and I've enjoyed the occasions when he has opened up to me to report his findings. Last night I got an e-mail from him in which he talked about how he could relate to much of Steven's behavior. He sees it in himself and he doesn't like it. Actually, I've heard this from a lot of men that I know. I think it's pretty brave to examine yourself like that, openly, and to figure out what needs to change. It's brave to examine how you wield power - even the passive ways you wield power - and to admit those things to someone else who is in a relationship with you of any sort. I admire this immensely. It's a difficult honesty, and it's important.

Like I said, though, I was laying in bed and thinking about this, and trying to figure out what I could learn from this person. Admiration is important, but it's not necessarily a lesson. And I'm sure there's a lesson in my involvement with this person somewhere. I tried to consider what things I need to cop to in order to feel good about proceeding into future relationships, but all I come up with are things that describe who I AM, rather than what I DO.

I puzzled over this for awhile, trying to figure out if I was just copping out on doing hard work. Certainly there is good reason for me to avoid hard work. And, I mean, there's a lot I need to do in terms of sorting out blame in my most recent failed relationship. Sometimes I feel like I'm doing too much blaming, but I also know that if I don't figure out what things L did that were fucked up - I won't have an accurate idea of what I need to take responsibility for. Since everything during the duration of the relationship was ultimately blamed on me, I need to first sort through the boxes and boxes of things to determine what was ACTUALLY my fault...and I need to slice through the layers of abusive behavior in order to be sure my assessment of blame is accurate.

But when that is said and done, what am I supposed to do? I feel pretty strongly that I am not going to change who I am - because any changes in that regard will only be presenting a false face to whomever I meet, and it's difficult enough to keep up with the me I am without having to worry about supressing any extraneous "me"-ness. Some of who I am is bossy. Some of who I am is subservient. Some of who I am is moody. Some of who I am is angry and rageful. Some of who I am is loving. Some of who I am is cuddly. Some of who I am is fiercely independent. Some of who I am is needy. These are all things that are essential to me. They cannot be changed. (I am feeling like I need to make a list.)

However, if I focus on the BEHAVIOR surrounding some of these things - like it's OK to be needy, but it might not be okay to demand that my needs are fulfilled by a particular person at a particular time - I might be able to work through some of this stuff. At least, that's what my friend is trying to do, I'm gathering (and if my friend is reading this - I'm not trying to make an example of you or criticize you for any of this. I totally admire the work you are doing, I'm just trying to apply it to my life and coming up kind of empty).

So, laying in bed, thinking about this...I concluded that, for me, it's probably not even worth my time to try to figure out how to fix the behavior that springs up in the context of a relationship, because all relationships are so different. Where, in one relationship, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to behave in a certain way...it might be totally acceptable in another relationship. Granted, the controlling and angry stuff is probably not acceptable in any context - but really the only way to work through that stuff is within the context of a relationship. It sucks that I can't rehearse this stuff and get it absolutely right before ever getting involved with someone else, but I just can't imagine it would be anything short of an absolute waste of time to try to fix all of my relationship behavior problems outside the context of a relationship.

Instead, I'm just trying to separate the blame, and figure out who I essentially am. I spent a lot of time feeling bad about the fact that L didn't like what he called my "bad behavior" before I realized what he was labeling "bad behavior" was actually part of my character. And not only that, much of what he was labeling as "bad behavior" were characteristics of myself that I actually really LIKED. I LIKE who I am. I love what is essentially me. And whoever I choose to be involved with should really like me, too.

It sounds simple, doesn't it? But I'm finding that it's not at all as simple as it sounds.

Posted at 10:00 AM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

The Speed Racer Movie

December 14, 2003

That's what the kids are parked in front of right now. Later tonight, it will be the Addam's family. Monk's at this age where I'm not ever quite sure what movies to rent or check out for him. He's too young for a lot of PG-13 and PG movies and too old for a lot of G movies. Especially when he's having an OLDER friend over for movie night.

So, anyway, the children are sufficiently distracted, and I was thinking about posting an "about dru blood" kind of essay - something a little more descriptive than this old "Drublood for dummies" thing I wrote awhile back, but along the same lines. I did that 100 things meme awhile back, but fuck if I'm going to look for it...and that's not what I'm looking for. I'm looking for more of an ethic of drublood kind of post. A guide for the perplexed.

But I'm also feeling kind of lazy and content right now, so I don't really feel like defining my ethics. Besides, once you start being specific, it's easy for people to call you a hypocrite. Sometimes it's better to just make shit up as you go along. Or pretend to, anyway. Bahahaha! Just kidding!

Maybe it would be fun to open it up to the audience. Questions from the readers of this blog. The DruBlood FAQ. Anyone? Ask me questions about my personal system of ethics. Help me define myself.

For now, though, maybe I should just talk about my day. It's been mellow. It's been nice. The children have been great. I took them out to lunch at Waterloo Ice House. I had a veggie burger and fries and they had grilled cheese. Monk cheered loudly for the non-Houston team on the TV and earned some chilly glares from the other patrons. We all giggled a lot. Coley almost got run over by a car in the parking lot, but he's OK. And the dog pooped on the floor while we were gone. He (they) also ATE a plastic bag in which I had stored a tasty morsel of food that I ate for breakfast. They need to stop doing that. The last poop I cleaned out had fragments of a rubber ball that had been chewed to shreds. Last night, Bailey barfed on my bed. L was kind enough to get the chunks off, but he left the dirty sheets on the bed there for me to deal with.

What I really want to do is let loose and write. A lot. I imagine that is what I will be doing during my holiday break. The urge to tell stories is strong. I have been dwelling a lot on the sad stories, which is understandable right now...but there are so many cool stories to tell, and so many things to experience and file away for later.

Like, did I ever tell you about the time that I found a bird in the middle of the road? It was flapping around with one injured wing. I think a car might have hit it, and it was somewhat in schock. I picked it up to get it out of the road, and as I grabbed it, it laid an egg. Right in my hand. The bird was limp and appeared lifeless, so I put it in the garage, up out of reach of the dogs and out of safety zone of any cats. And I spent a few minutes looking for a warm box in which to bury bird and egg. When I got back, they were gone. The bird and the egg. Both. And no guilty looks on the faces of the dogs to indicate foul play.

Those kinds of stories are important to me. That's why John P has always been an inspiration to me. John P, by the way, has arrive safely in San Francisco, so any Bay Area Bloggers ought to keep your eyes out for King Cat Comics in your local book and record stores.

But ethics...ethics. It's a day today of enjoying my children. Last week, I opened a door in my home that had been blocked by a couch for over a year, and now my whole house feels more open. There's better flow. Maybe that's what's making me seek an ethic - and maybe that's what's making me want to write. There's a circular flow that runs through this house now - like all things. It needs to be able to complete the circuit. Perhaps now that it is free to circulate, it is flowing through me, releasing me from the block I have been experiencing.

It's at these points in my awareness, though, that frustration can take hold. With little time to coax the words from my fingers and mouth onto some medium of conveyence, I'm afraid I might lose them. But I don't have the time to give them the respect they deserve. So they tumble about freely inside, still blocked by self-consciousness and unliberated. I focus on the narrow margin of the tangible rather than surrendering to that which can only be described and never touched. It flows, but it's unfocused and undirected. So, instead of focusing and directing, my mind operates on a hyper-logical level, compiling lists and attempting to establish an ethic rather than erupting in a flow of loosely associated words and phrases.

We'll see where this leads me. It could go either way.

Posted at 3:39 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

People Who Can Bite Me.

December 14, 2003

(the short list)

Bill Collectors
George motherfucking Bush
People who don't live up to their inherent goodness
People who talk shit about me behind my back and talk nice to me to my face
People who talk shit about me behind my back WHILE they are talking nice to me to my face
People who intentionally do harm to children
People who intentionally do harm to other people
People who consistently claim to be something they are not

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Dinners and Nightmares

December 14, 2003

I must have left that book in the laundry room of the first apartment I moved into after having lived with my mother for the first 17 years of my life. I graduated early, found some friends from various places, and moved the fuck out, much to the dismay of my mother, who was still holding out for me to do an abrupt turnabout and decide that Northwestern University was, after all, a perfect place to pursue my post-secondary education, rather than the mean streets of Chicago.

I figured if I was going to have to pay rent at my mom's house, I might as well get a place of my own.

It was easy enough to persuade Angi to move in with me. She was a year younger and worked with me at the copy shop. I was like the cool older sister, in spite of the fact that she was way cooler than I ever was.

I also managed to persuade Tesla to move up from southern IL and David to move all the way from sunny Sacramento. Because of this, for a long time I believed that I was capable of making people do my bidding.

I no longer have that talent, and I'm not sure if I ever did. I do, however, have an uncanny ability to push people out of my life who don't belong there. I have a good evil eye, and I typically don't have to even act outwardly evil to enact it. I'm thankful that, with very few exceptions, the people in this world who don't seem to like me very much are people I don't have any great desire to spend time with, anyway.

I'm also thankful that I still seem to have the ability to attract all the right people. Even better than before. Because I feel like the friends I have at this point in my life are the best friends I have had since that time just out of high school when friendships were EVERYTHING and I had all sorts of time to invest in cultivating them.

I hung out with Kate tonight. Kate, healer of my bruised soul. Kate, with whom I feel I can flit from a topic of conversation that is brutally depressing to one that inspires breathless laughter and abundant joy. Kate is so absolutely precious to me. She fantastic. I wish I could have been friends with Kate this whole time - throughout my life. From way back when I was invincible and magical. Instead, I will just have to keep kate in my life until we are both old ladies and can look back at this time of our life and laugh over our silliness and admire our prescience.

Kate pulls things from me. We are both experiencing similar things in our lives, and both of us are compiling lists of our perfect mates. I'm certain that our lists contain completely different things for the most part. We frequently talk about how our priorities have changed since we were first married. Things that seemed important then are not nearly as important now. And now we both have the advantage of having certain things established so the priorities are clear to whomever we next encounter.

One of the things I have been thinking about today. One of the things I am adding to my silent list of things that are absolutely necessary in my next relationship is the ability for my partner to accept my anger and rage. It's crucial that I be able to express anger at my partner - or frustration. To be able to say "I'm really pissed off about this thing that you did, and here is why..." and then to be able to explain myself without battling defensiveness. I want someone who will understand that I truly do believe in the inherent goodness of all beings and who won't attempt to jump to self-defense mode nor will they instantly turn the issue around and list off all of the things that I have done to piss them off. I want to be able to have an adult argument with someone that has a definite beginning, middle, and end. Apologies all around, and that's that.

And I also want someone who is able to express their anger with me if it arises. Directly and without cruelty. What I said tonight that was a revelation for me is that I want someone who is capable of expressing anger about something I DID, rather than who I AM. Because, honestly, there's not much of a chance that I'm going to be changing who I essentially AM at this point in my life, although it's perfectly possible that the things I do - my BEHAVIOR is changeable (provided I wish to change it...and I don't always wish to do so.)

And I need to remember this myself. To accept people for who they are, and not necessarily accept what they do. This is actually one of those things we learn to do as parents and bosses - give behavior-based feedback, rather than personality-based criticism. It has been something that was sadly lacking in my relationship, where every argument turned into a character assassination.

***

After hanging out with Kate, I went to book people and spent my gift certificate and a little extra. I was carrying around a big book that was garishly colored and looked interesting, but I found a Diane di Prima memoir. I have read memoir of a beatnik, but I never was able to finish dinners and nightmares because i left it in that laundry room and never found it again. Which was too bad because it was an excellent book which was given to me by a dear friend in DC whose parents were beat generation publishers and had photographs of ginsberg and burroughs in the kitchen of their dusty old house on East West Highway in Chevy Chase Maryland. I say dusty not to imply that they were less than tidy. The house was dusty in that way that allows for optimal window-gazing on mornings where sunbeams cause the flecks of dust to dance. I remember waking up there in the morning and listening for signs of life in the house, staring at the dancing particles in the sunbeams and petting one of the cats.

My life - my past life - has such a dreamy quality to it. There is so much abundance back there. There is so much abundance in the present. I have a lot of stories to tell, and I have a lot to look forward to, not the least of which this di Prima book, many more nights of laughter with Kate, conversations and conflagrations, the unfolding of new relationships and the quiet folding inward of old ones.

There's this whole huge path twisting endlessly towards the horizon and thankfully oh yes oh yes oh yes I have always been a fan of road trips.

Posted at 12:43 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Subjects! I command you!

December 13, 2003

I need some links to blogs of note that will be suitable to display for my blogging class. I would like a variety of blogs with various focii and target audience. I would also like good blogs on business, non-profit, and educational websites.

Any links you can provide will be helpful. The class begins on Monday.

Posted at 1:39 PM • Comments (6) • TrackBack

Her Majesty Steps Out.

December 13, 2003

Since my own son is the only man who is good enough to go out with me, I dragged my prima donna ass off the throne (from which I survey my kingdom, the internet, a place where anyone who agrees with me instantly becomes a mindless automaton who I actively encourage to do my bidding on whatever whim tickles my fleeting fancy) and deigned to allow my young heir to escort me to yon bus stop where we stood in the rain (although the raindrops knew better than to drip on me, lest I wrongly accuse them of sexism!) awaiting our carriage to the free meal that awaited us.

Being that this was a company event, I of course arrived fashionably late and proceeded to regale my audience with pithy stories about my abusive ex-husband while they cowered, unable to disagree with me for fear of my uncalled-for wrath and irrational rage. I forced them all to bring me more and more and more food to feed my huge, fat belly and Monk watched and learned from me, the queen of selfishness and insanity. One day, he will grow up and rule a kingdom of plebian internet surfers, just like his mama. My superiors (as IF! *snort*) timidly laid offerings of metal cars and book store gift certificates at our feet in honor of our glorious regality. They stopped short of sacrificing a small goat, knowing that it would have incited us to unrepentent anger, and instead, filled our cups with lemonade and dr. pepper until they overflowed and spilled upon the carpet. I, of course, rested my dainty and uncalloused feet upon the manservant who came to clean up the mess. No one dared disagree with me or press any points that might offend me, as they all know I have no qualms about using my rapier wit with quillotine precision. Heads DO roll when I am out on the town.

As the evening drew to a close, we were bid farewell by our lowly dinnermates. Flower petals were thrown in our wake as we made our way to the bus stop. On the bus, my young heir put his head down on my breast and fell asleep, clutching his offerings to his chest, no doubt dreaming of the day that he, too, will reign over the kingdom of blog where all who approach are either brainwashed into the loyal following or battered down to the prison of unpopular counter-opinion.

Ah.

It's good to be queen.

Posted at 11:15 AM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

The Lord High Executioner.

December 12, 2003

This is a new one. Monk's excuse this morning for not wanting to feed the pets is: "I'm the lord high executioner, and the lord high executioner doesn't HAVE pets."

How the Hell do I respond to that?

I told him that he needed to give them their last meal before he, um, executes them.

Posted at 8:31 AM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Oh, thank you Jeanne!

December 11, 2003

I'm rarely glad to get forwarded e-mails, but this one is right up there with the tampon angel.

GET OUT YOUR GLUE GUNS LADIES! TIME TO CRAFT WITH MARTHA ...
What to do when change of life is done & you still have a box of pads left over.... or way too much time on your hands.

Try Martha's Christmas slippers. They are lovely to have for yourself or make a lovely Christmas gift.

Here's how to make bedroom slippers out of maxi pads:

You need four maxi's to make one pair. Two of them get laid out flat for the foot part. The other two wrap around the toe area to form the top.Tape or glue each side of the top pieces to the bottom of the foot part.

Decorate the tops with whatever you desire, silk flowers, etc.

Benefits of using these "Pad-About" Slippers:

a.. Soft and Hygienic
b.. Non-slip grip strips on the soles
c.. Built in deodorant feature - Keep feet smelling fresh
d.. No more bending over to mop up spills
e.. Disposable, biodegradable, and environmentally safe
f.. Three convenient sizes: Regular, Light and Get out the Sand Bags!

Here's a pic of my first pair - I plan to wear them on Christmas day. No doubt they will be a big hit!

(click to make it bigger)

Posted at 8:41 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

What Subversity is Doing...

December 11, 2003

is actually a familiar tactic to me. It doesn't raise my blood pressure anymore to see it done, although it has in the past.

Basically, he's sampling my rage and, as I quoted earlier, jamming it back down my throat.

The abuse that I'm most accustomed to is the abuse that is uttered calmly from the mouth of a psuedo-rational individual who feels that as long as he doesn't swear or appear angry, it means he is the rational one. It's the kind of abuse that equates a quiet lack of emotion with appropriateness, and any angry reaction to this more laid-back form of manipulation with irrationality and inappropriateness.

I've never been struck, I've rarely been yelled at, but I've frequently been quietly degraded and given the silent treatment. It's subtle, so it took me a long time to come to realize how damaging it is. I figured if I didn't believe the insults, they wouldn't do any harm. I figured if I recognized the abuse for what it was, then it wouldn't affect me.

I'd be willing to guess, subversity, that many many people see through your reactions here just like I do. You don't appear calm to me. You appear to be violently denying my reality. I'm not saying that you are an abusive person in your home life, but you certainly are exhibiting behavior here on my blog that I am very familiar with in my home life.

Fortunately, here...I need only ban your IP and you go away. Poof!

How many times have I wished the same of the angry and controlling man in my real life?

Subversity, I'm not sure why you are reacting so strongly and so negatively to what I'm saying here, but, yes...Shut the fuck up and listen - or don't come back. I am not blocking any doorways. I haven't unplugged your phone. I'm certainly not even asking that you listen to me. Quite honestly, I really just want you to go away so I can continue on with what I had intended to discuss without the aggro, defensive male in the audience. Please remove the link to my blog from yours, as I do not wish for you to be directing this kind of traffic to me on this topic. I don't care what you say in your space, but this is not up for debate in general, and I don't wish to hear what people coming from your space have to say about this.

Posted at 8:02 PM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

Coffee at 11:30 AM

December 11, 2003

I'm finding that I'm feeling better, but I still tire easily. Last night a dear friend came over and helped fix my doorknob. (helped? Ha! He FIXED the doorknob FOR me.) I shared some pie with him that I had brought home from the dinner party I attended for work. We have another dinner party tomorrow. All of this dinner party-age is good for my food budget.

But I'm just sitting down for my first cup of coffee today. I managed to clean up the living room and I started to clean up the kitchen when I realized I needed to rest for a bit, just like I need to take a breather from discussing issues of abuse. It's so easy for me to lose my breath right now, and so easy for me to lose my sense of safety, as well. Of course, I FEEL like my lungs are made of steel, even though they have spent the last few weeks gasping for breath - it's only after I over-exert myself that I realize they are not. And, also, of course I FEEL like I'm invincible and able to talk about issues of abuse with clarity and strength. I'm even able to laugh about some things, with the right person (my doorknob fixing friend somehow manages to make me feel safe to do so, and I hope he does not feel awkward about my willingness to bring these things up in his presence.) I don't want to assume I am more ready than I am, though. It's obvious there are people who prefer to deny the realities of other people rather than apply a modicum of tact to a given situation.

What I do want to say, to that end, though, is that when I talk about the abusive relationship(s) in my life, I am not talking about someone who was arbitrarily mean to me. I am talking, specifically in most cases, about someone who made putting me in my place and keeping me there a hobby. This is not about someone calling me a bitch or even about someone yelling at me. This is about someone who tried to make me doubt my ability to hold down a decent job (calling me "lucky" for being able to find, get, and hold the positions I have); who consistently hinted at the fact that my friends didn't really like me, and those who appeared to like me "just didn't know me"; who called my parenting choices into question over and over and over again, spying on me in my own home; who quite literally refused to speak to me outside of any conversation that was absolutely essential to meeting his needs (and who would respond to any attempt at conversation I put forth with either a dismissive wave or sneer or the comment "This is why I never talk to you - because there's just no talking to you.")

I'm not talking about someone who nagged me or someone who dismissed my nagging. I'm talking about someone who utilized (and still utilizes, I might add) his power as a man in a relationship with a woman who loves her children and wants to weigh every decision against what is best for them to really basically trap her in a situation where she has no choice but to provide him with financial and emotional support that she does not care to give. And let me make this clear: He is doing this at the expense of his own children. Every day that he refuses to find work, but still comes here and eats the food that I buy for our children is another day that he has taken food out of their mouth.

But he will continue to do it, because he has the privilege of ignoring the effects of his selfishness. I have no choice but to pick up the slack for him, because the alternative is that the children that I cherish won't have anything to eat. I have to tolerate his presence here even though I find it to be invasive and unfair because the alternative is that the children do not have adequate childcare which would mean they would either be shuffled from person to person among my friends or I would lose my job and go back to point a.

He has the privilege of ignoring the effects of his selfishness because it's assumed (and rightly so) that mama will pick up the slack. He feels entitled to what he gets because it's assumed (and wrongly so) that any parenting he does is a favor to me rather than a responsibility to his children.

At any rate, I wasn't going to go there yet, but I did. There is more. I will get to it. I need to tell it.

Posted at 11:57 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Myth #14

December 11, 2003

There are just as many abusive women as abusive men. Abused men are invisible because they are ashamed to tell.

There certainly are some women who treat their male partners badly, berating them, calling them names, attempting to control them. The negative impact on these men's lives can be considerable. But do we see men whose self-esteem is gradually destroyed through this process? Do we see men whose progress in school or in their careers grinds to a halt because of the constant criticism and undermining? Where are the men whose partners are forcing them to have unwanted sex? Where are the men who are fleeing to shelters in fear for their lives? How about the ones who try to get to a phone to call for help, but the women blck their way or cut the line? The reason we don't generally see these men is simple: They're rare.

I don't question how embarrassing it would be for a man to come forward and admit that a woman is abusing him. But don't underestimate how humiliated a woman feels when she reveals abuse; women crave dignity just as much as men do. If shame stopped people from coming forward, no one would tell.

Even if abused men didn't want to come forward, they would have been discovered by now. Neighbors don't turn a deaf ear to abuse the way they might have ten or twenty years ago. Now, when people hear screaming, objects smashing against walls, loud slaps landing on skin, they call the police. Among my physically abusive clients, nearly one-third have been arrested as a result of a call to the police that came from someone other than the abused woman. If there were millions of cowed, trembling men out there, the police would be finding them. Abusive men commonly like to play the role of victime, and most men who claim to be "battered men" are actually the perpetrators of the violence, not the victims.

In their efforts to adopt victim status, my clients try to exaggerate their partners' verbal power "Sure, I can win a physical fight, but she is much better with her mouth than I am, so I'd say it balances out." (One very violent man said in his group session "She stabs me through the heart with her words." to justify the fact that he had stabbed his partner in the chest with a knife.) But abuse is not a battle you win by being better at expressing yourself. You win it by being better at sarcasm, put-downs, twisting everything around backward, and using other tactics of control - an arena in which my clients win hands down over their partners, just as they do in violent altercation. Who can beat an abuser at his own game?

Also of note - from Chapter 13 "The making of An Abusive Man:"

Abuse As a Form of Oppression A home where a woman is abused is a small-scale model of much larger oppressive systems that work in remarkably similar ways. Many of the excuses an abusive man uses for verbally tearing his partner to shreds are the same ones that a power-mad boss uses for humiliating his or her employees. The abusive man's ability to convince himself that his domination of you is for your own good is paralleled by the dictator who says, "People in this country are too primitive for democracy." The divide-and-conuer strategies used by abusers are reminiscent of a corporate head who tries to break the labor union by giving certain groups of workers favored treatment. The making of an abuser is thus not necessarily restricted to the specific values his society teaches him about men's relationships with women; without realizing it he may also apply attitudes and tactics from other forms of oppression that he has been exposed to as a boy or as a young adult and that he has learned to justify or even admire.
If you look at any oppressive organization or system, from a racist country club up to a military government, you will find most of the same behaviors and justifications by the powerful that I have described in this book. The tactics of control, the intimidation of victims who try to protest, the undermining of efforts at independence, the negative distortions about the victims in order to cast blame upon them, the careful cultivation of the public image of the oppressors - all are present, along with many other parallels. The people in power generally tell lies while simultaneously working hard to silence the voices of the people who are being dominated and to stop them from thinking, just as the abusive man strives to do. And the bottom line is the same: Oppressive systems stay in existence because the people in power enjoy the luxury of their position and become unwilling to give up the privileges they win through taking advantage of other people and keeping them down. In short, the abusive mentality is the mentality of oppression.

And let this be a warning to anyone else who wants to debate this shit. This is my space, and this topic is not up for debate at this time. In fact, I'm starting to see the need for certain male individuals I have known to push the envelope in debating the existence of the elusive abusive female partner as being a direct attempt to nurture and maintain male privilege, and I feel it's detrimental to women and men to continue to have that debate. As long as we live in a culture in which men (in general) have a privileged position over women (in general) abuse effects women more negatively. And it doesn't help anyone to attempt to gloss over that fact.

Don't even go there with me right now. You don't want to, and I don't want you to. This is my personal story (as told, at the current time, through selected quotations from a very good book) and I will not be silenced by bullshit equivocation.

Posted at 12:06 AM • Comments (8) • TrackBack

More from Chapter 3

December 10, 2003

I don't think I linked it in the last post, but this is the book I'm quoting from.

Few abusive men rely entirely on verbal abuse or intimidation to control their partners. Being a nonstop bully is too much work, and it makes the man look bad. If he is abusive all the time, his partner starts to recognize that she's being abused, and the man may feel too guilty about his behavior. The abuser therefore tends to switch frequently to manipulating his partner to get what he wants. He may also sometimes use these tactics just to get her upset or confused.
There are some signs of manipulation by abusers that you can watch for:

Changing his moods abruptly and frequently, so that you find it difficult to tell who he is or how he feels, keeping you constantly off balance. His feelings toward you are especially changeable.
Denying the obvious about what he is doing or feeling. He'll speak to you with his voice trembling with anger, or he'll blame a difficulty on you, or he'll sulk for two hours, and then deny it to your face. You know what he did - and so does he - but he refuses to admit it, which can drive you crazy with frustration. Then he may call you irrational for getting so upset by his denial.

Convincing you that what he wants you to do is what is best for you. This way the abuser can make his selfishness look like generosity, which is a neat trick. A long time may pass before you realize what his real motives were.

Getting you to feel sorry for him, so that you will be reluctant to push forward with your complaints about what he does.

Getting you to blame yourself, or blame other people, for what he does.

Using confusion tactics in arguments, subtly or overtly changing the subject, insisting you are thinking or feeling things that you aren't, twisting your words, and many other tactics that serve as glue to pour into your brain. You may leave arguments with him feeling like you are losing your mind.

Lying or misleading you about his actions, his desires, or his reasons for doing certain things, in order to guide you into doing what he wants you to do. One of the most frequent complaints I get from abused women is that their partners lie repeatedly, a form of psychological abuse that in itself can be highly destructive over time.

Getting you and the people you care about turned against each other by betraying confidences, being rude to your friends, telling people lies about what you supposedly said about them, charming your friends and then telling them bad things about you, and many other divisive tactics.

In some ways manipulation is worse than overt abuse, especially when the two are mixed together. When a woman gets called "bitch," or gets shoved or slapped, she at least knows what her partner did to her. But after a manipluative interaction she may have little idea what went wrong; she just knows that she feels terrible, or crazy, and that somehow it seems to be her own fault.

I think what I need to do is go through this entire book and write out examples of how each item has played out in my life.

Posted at 1:09 PM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

Chapter 3: The Abusive Mentality

December 10, 2003

Chronic mistreatment gets people to doubt themselves. Children of abusive parents know that something is wrong, but they suspect the badness is inside of them. Employees of an abusive boss spend much of their time feeling that they are doing a lousy job, that they should be smarter and work harder. Boys who get bulled feel that they should be stronger or less afraid of fight.
When I work with an abused woman, my first goal is to help her to regain trust in herself; to get her to rely on her own perceptions, to listen to her own internal voices. You don't really need an "expert" on abuse to explain your life to you; what you do need above all is some support and encouragement to hold on to your own truth. Your abusive partner wants to deny your experience. He wants to pluck your view of reality out of your head and replace it with his. When someone has invaded your identity in this way enough times, you naturally start to lose your balance. But you can find your way back to center."

Here's to finding my way back to center.

(from the previous chapter)

There is nothing wrong with you. Your partner's abuse problem is his own.

Thank you thank you thank you to whoever sent me this book. I can't really read it all in one sitting because every time I read these words I start to cry.

The abusive man's problem with anger is almost the opposite of what is commonly believed. The reality is:
Your abusive partner doesn't have a problem with his anger; he has a problem with your anger.

One of the basic human rights he takes away from you is the right to be angry with him. No matter how badly he treats you, he believes that your voice shouldn't rise and your blood shouldn't boil. The privilege of rage is reserved for him alone. When your anger does jump out of you - as will happen to any abused woman from time to time - he is likely to try to jam it back down your throat as quickly as he can. Then he uses your anger against you to prove what an irrational person you are. Abuse can make you feel straitjacketed. You may develop physical or emotional reactions to swallowing your anger, such as depression, nightmares, emotional numbing, or eating and sleeping problems, which your partner may use as an excuse to belittle you further or make you feel crazy.

There's more, but I'm going to have to come back to this later...I have a play to attend.

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Austin Weather

December 9, 2003

Is just so fucked up. I mean, this afternoon, we were luxuriating in the sun at the Crossing, where our company retreat was held, and less than 4 hours later, it was icy cold, and is apparantly going to get down to the 20's tonight.

I'm sorry, but it's absolutely ridiculous how often the weather goes from 80 to 20 in a less-than-24 hour period. There's no reason for it other than sheer sinus torture. In two days it will be 75 degrees again, so what purpose does this pseudo cold snap serve, exactly?

Gah. I went to the grocery store just as the cold snap hit, and there were people running to their cars wearing t-shirts and shorts and freezing their asses off. How the hell am I supposed to get better in these conditions?

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The Ace Of Spades

December 9, 2003

OK, thanks to an unhealthy obsession with Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3 that has sprouted up around here, Monk is addicted to the song "The Ace of Spades" by Motorhead. He just declared that we NEED to celebrate christmas this year so he can get a copy of a motorhead CD as a gift.

I would like to go ahead and buy him this CD, but not being a huge fan of metal, I just don't know if there is stuff on there that I would really rather not expose my 7 year old to. So, can someone clue me in here? And I've popped it on my wish list in case anyone wants to get it for him.

OK, now I have to go, so Monk can perform the first verse, playing a guitar composed of plastic ladders from an old fire truck toy.

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Monk

December 9, 2003

I've been in bed for about 40 of the last 48 hours or so. Literally, laying there, groaning, feeling like I'm dying.

This has been great for Coley, because he's perfectly content to lay there with me and snuggle and giggle and talk, but Monk has kind of been on his own for the most part. He's been such a trooper about it, too. I haven't wanted to do ANYTHING, and he's been giving me hugs and in general trying really hard to not upset the peace here.

Today, he fixed the doorknob for me. He left out a few parts, but the knob is in place and it turns. I think he and L are going to work on it tomorrow while I'm at my big staff retreat.

He also read a great deal of his book about ancient civilizations that he got for his birthday. He's impressed with the Samurai of Japan, but his favorite ancient civ so far is Chinese. He says he skipped the chapter on Ancient Egypt because he wants me to read it to him.

He's just such a great kid. It makes me sad that I've been so out of it these past few days. I feel like I'm missing out.

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I feel like I've been sick forever.

December 8, 2003

My body keeps psyching me out by feeling a little bit better...and then getting bad again. The night of the party I FELT fine, but I had difficulty breathing (bronchitis). I woke up on Sunday feeling a bit better on that front, but then after the doorknob incident I started to feel dizzy and achy and tired again.

So I spent ANOTHER night laying in bed with the TV on. My poor children have all of the commercials memorized. I'm ruining them for life, and I fed them NACHOS for dinner because I just couldn't bring myself to make anything good (however, Coley also ate a cucumber and Monk had a salad).

At one point, as I was fading in and out of sleep, coley touched me and said "OUCH! you are HOT, mama." And was I ever. I was actually a little concerned.

Thankfully, I didn't barf (I can't STAND barfing) and today I'm not burning hot, but I still feel a little dizzy. I'm thinking I might need to go to the doctor today so I can get a not to excuse me from the meeting tomorrow. I can't imagine that I will be able to wake up in time to get to a 9:00 AM meeting, and be able to sit there all day without feeling really, really icky. Just the thought of it is actually making me feel sicker. And it's like the most important meeting of the year, too. So I don't know. If I'm not there, I will be totally out of the loop, and that could hurt me at work. But if I AM there, I will be loopy...and that can't help.

I'll probably just tell my boss I'm still feeling really sick, and go for as long as I can. Who knows? Maybe I'll feel better by then.

Today, i'm afraid it's another day of laying around watching TV. I can't even muster the energy to focus on a book. *sigh*

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Perplexed

December 7, 2003

I walked out of my house today, late for a party, and as I was shutting my door, the doorknob came off in my hand.

Thankfully, I hadn't yet closed the door, but now I'm totally confused as to how to fix the doorknob. There don't seem to be any visible screws other than the 2 I've already removed which didn't seem to be holding anything together. I managed to get the entire knob off, but there's a brass plating on both sides of the door and the clicker thing that fits into the groove, and none of that appears to want to be removed, no matter which way I look at it.

HELP!

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I think the party was a success!

December 7, 2003

I had a blast, anyway. And Monk seemed to be having a great deal of fun. Coley had a rough spot in the middle, but he pulled through. The soup that I made went over well (although I would like to add more jalapenos next time, and maybe a bit more cumin and salt). People seemed to enjoy themselves and not feel incredibly stressed out in the space, and I unveiled the back room (now being referred to as the playroom, which makes my heart joyous.) No one was injured (although there was a *small* fire.)

I feel very very good about how everything went last night, and I'm really looking forward to resuming my monthly potlucks. After the party, I walked around the house a bit. Now that it's a little cleaner, I feel a little more sane. And I felt like I have finally really reclaimed the space. This space belongs to a single mother of two lovely children. I think, in a way, I've been afraid of becoming too attached to it, because I really CAN'T afford it...but for now anyway, I'm making it mine.

So, in spite of the fact that I'm now SURE I have bronchitis, I felt very good when I went to bed last night. Monk was so happy with all of his friends here. The adults all had good conversation. The dogs were loved on. The food was superb.

It was such a great night. I wish you all could have been here.

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Thank You.

December 6, 2003

Solid thank you and thumbs up to the anonymous individual who sent this book to me. I opened it up and immediately burst into tears - in a good way. Thank you.

And thanks to the senders of Clue and the Captain Underpants books - personalized thank yous will be going out to you from Monk ASAP. Monk's reading the captain underpants book right now, and we've played clue several times already.

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The house is so quiet.

December 5, 2003

The kids are both gone, at my friend K's house. The silence is immense. And it's lonely. Even though I have a lot of stuff still to do, and it would be much easier to do it without the kids around, I'm probably going to go pick them up in a few minutes here. I miss them.

I feel sorry for L. He spends three-quarters or more of his life outside the hubbub of the kids. I wonder if he misses them. I wonder if he ever really considers what he's missing out on by leaving early and renegotiating time - as if his presence here is more a favor to me than a joyful responsibility.

I'm not saying it's always great having them around, but I can't imagine being present in their lives for only 40 hours a week. I guess I'm thankful that he's not pushing for more. I just wish I could have the house to myself while he has them. This silence is nice on a temporary basis, as long as I know there will be glorious din within hours.

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On a More Positive Note

December 5, 2003

I realize I have been whining a lot. It's been a hell of a week. Not an incredibly good vacation. But there have been some highlights, and there are some people I need to thank.

First, I do so totally love my friend Kate and all of her playgroup disciples. I went over there the other night after having a moment of crisis and angst about what, exactly, the fuck I am doing with my life, and feeling like I am screwing up my children for life by not putting them in school and being the parent that I am. I was able to let off a lot of steam about L and my situation and my angst and feelings of inadequacy, and I felt like I was "among folks" and it was just fantastic. I'm so thankful for Kate and J and R and Pansy. They are wonderful.

Speaking of Pansy - she has offered to make me a slipcover for my couch! All I need to do is supply the fabric. She and her husband are also big diy household repair people. She told me the other day that her husband LOVES working on foundation issues, and he'd probably REALLY REALLY like to get under my house and see what the problem is with my foundation. I hardly believe that would be enjoyable to anyone, but who am I to judge! And I know I said this in the above, but I have to specifically say that Pansy is just so neat to talk to. She is so non-judgmental and perceptive...she takes some of the crazy-ass things I say and just pops them right into perspective. I feel like I can tell her and kate anything and they will not just accept it, but embrace it. I'm so so lucky to know them.

My friend Megan is so sweet. I haven't been in contact with her much this week because I've been sick, but she never gives up. She doesn't use the internet or e-mail a lot, which leaves her kind of out of my loop and I tend to neglect her phone calls when things get hectic. She keeps calling anyway, which is a good thing. She called the other day, and when I explained to her that I had been sick all week, she exclaimed "Why didn't you call us and tell us to come get your kids!" I'm such an ass. All of these people really really want to help me with all of this stuff, and I just don't reach out as much as I should. I am so thankful to Megan for being the kind of friend who gets mad because I don't ask her for enough. I love her so much.

Kirsten's husband made a huge pot of potato leek soup and she e-mailed me and told me she was going to bring me some to the playground. She's amazing. This woman has FOUR kids. Three very active boys and an adolescent girl. They are wonderful kids, but...Kirsten is just a wonder woman. I admire the hell out of her. Yesterday at the park, she told me that she is going to come all the way over here and pick up my children and bring them back to her house so I can have some quiet time here to clean and maybe get some rest. She lives pretty far away, so this is a big deal...and so so sweet. I'm definitely taking her up on it.

I had the BEST time with Jennifer at the movie the other night. We went to see Pirates of the Carribean. She's such a nice person, and I'm looking forward to hanging out with her some more. While we were hanging out, she told me I could come over some evening during my vacation if I didn't have anywhere to go. It was such a nice offer, and I am sorry I haven't been able to take her up on it.

Susan. Susan. Susan. She's such a great friend. I'm going to build a shrine in her honor. She's coming over tonight to help decorate and prep for Monk's party. This woman is my savior. The world needs more people like Susan. Not just because she's helping me out, but because she's just so fun to talk to and is so perceptive and smart. Yup. I am definitely thankful for Susan.

My beautiful children. This morning I had a moment where I just had to stop in the midst of all of the chaos and admire how beautiful and cool my kids are. I had this wish that I could share them with someone...like introduce someone to how very wonderful it is to be here with them. I think since L and I have lived such seperate lives with regard to the children...I haven't enjoyed that joy that comes from sharing the kids with another person, you know? I would really love to be able to do that. I mean, it's kind of nice hogging all of their yummy childreny goodness to myself, but it almost doesn't seem fair.

I'm going to have to limit this to people who live in my general vicinity, but there are so many people who light up my day who I don't get to ever ever see or speak to face to face. I'm so thankful to everyone who offers advice or opinions here on this blog, for instance. It's such a privilege to be able to spout off about various things and have people give feedback and encouragement. I totally appreciate every single comment and e-mail. I appreciate the gifts and the donations. I appreciate the wisdom and the well-wishes. All of it.

And I'm thankful to my friends who live far away. Lorraine, Adam, Pink, Rachel, and so many others.

I've asked for a lot of everyone around me this past year, especially...but on and off throughout my life. I guess we all ask a lot of those around us. It's part of being human, and it's part of being in a community. Yesterday, as I was driving back to the Home Depot to return the carpet cleaner, I broke down and cried because I just got to feeling so tired of relying on other people. I want to be the one who lends a hand for awhile. At least, that's what I thought I was crying about.

In reality, I think I was crying for joy because there are so many incredibly wonderful and kind people in my life. I know I'm going to come through all of this and be able to give back all that I've been given and more. I'm just so very thankful. I truly am. I'm very thankful and very blessed.

And I thank you.

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My Life.

December 5, 2003

Can someone please tell me when my life is going to not be so fucked up?

I swear to maude, I JUST opened the door to the back room - the room with the carpet that I spent 2 hours or so cleaning last night. I opened the door, walked in, touched the floor, admired the fact that it was now at least a space where I wasn't afraid that the children would contract some sort of horrible illness playing there. There are still stains on the carpet, and the paint job is still not finished, but at least it's somewhat sanitary.

I was in there for all of, oh, MAYBE five minutes. And in that time, one of the dogs ran in, BARFED ON THE CARPET, and ran out.

I'm so over this. The back door is WIDE OPEN and like 10 feet from where the dog barfed. What the fuck?

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Fancy Things

December 5, 2003

On Wednesday, Monk, Cole, and I attended a birthday party for some friends of his from our homeschool co-op. Now, this was no ordinary birthday party. This was a birthday party at the house where children cry and hide when it's time to go. Where Monk had to be locked OUT last time we went because he kept escaping from my clutches and running back into the house because he didn't want to leave.

This is a house where there are toys in every room, and not just a few toys, but just about any toy imaginable. Everywhere. It's a great place. The kids love it. The mom of the birthday children (she has triplets) is a fantastic woman who kids also love...and it's just a whole lot of fun.

The party was wonderful. There was a GIGANTIC bouncy thing, lots of craft activities for the kiddos. Yummy delicious sugary and salty foods. E (the mom) had painted rocks with gold and silver paint and hid them in the sandbox and the gravel area outside for kids to find. And she had made about 20 swords out of foam and duct tape, so the kids had soft things to battle with. E is pretty much my hero. She's so great, and very very cool, and just a really lovely person...and she happens to have a big fancy house and, I would imagine, just a buttload and a half of money.

At the party, I was relieved to have a conversation with another mom there whose child also refused to leave. We were both really hoping we wouldn't have to suffer the embarrassment of a repeat. And I almost did. Monk pulled the old distract and run trick by asking me to get him a drink of water and, as soon as I had my back turned, he ran upstairs and hid under a table. I was so pissed off when I went to get him, I nearly spit. "You are NOT going to do this again" I told him between clenched teeth. Thankfully, age has given him a bit more of a conscience, and he resigned himself to departure.

As soon as we got out of the house, Monk turned to me and asked a question I had hoped he would never ask. A question that, to me, bears more weight than any sex question. He looked at me with his big blue eyes, and he asked me:

"Mom, how come all of our friends have fancier things than we have."

Ahh, the comparitive wealth question. Do I respond by introducing the concept of bourgeoisie and how wealth is acquired at the expense of someone else? How in order for some people to have lots and lots, others must have nothing at all. Do I place a value judgment on the wealthy people who were in attendance at the party? Or do I allow a value judgment to be placed on me, by default, because we have less.

I simply responded "Because they like fancy things."

"I like fancy things, too." Monk countered.

"Well, sweetie...unfortunately, you are stuck with a mommy who really really DOESN'T like fancy things."

I'm thankful. I'm very thankful that my kids aren't incredibly greedy. When we go to a store, I rarely have a problem telling them "no" when they grab something I can't afford or don't want to afford to buy them. They don't usually ask for an explanation, and they don't usually throw a temper tantrum. Still, it's obvious that they notice what others have, and perhaps are envious.

I'm sometimes envious, too. Gathered around a kitchen table with friends of mine, and listening to them talk about all of the cool stuff they are getting their kids for Christmas. Hearing about the cool stuff their relatives are getting their kids. It can make me feel pretty inadequate, if I let it. And I was tempted to let it. There are all sorts of things I would like for my children to have.

I worried over it off and on all night, and brought it up today at park day with friends of mine who are less financially well-endowed. I was kind of fretting over it, but kind of feeling good about how I had handled it, but still kind of feeling envious about all of the things we have-not that other people seem to have no problem obtaining.

And then, as we arrived home from the playground, Monk said to me "Mom. I know something I have that most of our friends who have fancy things don't have."

My heart was aflutter. Yes, son! We have freedom, and love, and a job that doesn't eat away and my conscience on a daily basis. And we have each other. And we have...and we have...and we have...

"What's that, Monk?"

"A dog."

Ah, well. We have that, too. And plenty of it.

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Now THIS is cool

December 4, 2003

Aaron has the Tarot at his site. Here is my sponsored rune reading:

Enjoy!

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The "C" Word

December 4, 2003

Before I get into this rant, I just want to make it clear to the last person who used this word with me (in a recent e-mail) that this is not directed at him, but at the word and its application, and that there are absolutely no bad feelings about the fact that he chose to use this word with me, even though I totally reject its validity, and ask that he never EVER never use it with me again.

The "C"-word in question, of course, is...

Co-dependency.

I'm going to say this again, because I know I've said it before. A person who is in an abusive relationship is not necessarily co-dependent. The term, to me, implies that there is some sort of pathology inherent in being abused. It's implicit of blaming the victim, and I think it's absolute bullshit. I'm not saying I'm perfect or even that I'm totally mentally and emotionally healthy, BUT - READ THIS definition:

co-de-pen-dent or co-de-pen-dent (kd-pndnt) adj. Mutually dependent. Of or relating to a relationship in which one person is psychologically dependent in an unhealthy way on someone who is addicted to a drug or self-destructive behavior, such as chronic gambling.

Um, no. Sorry. While it might be true that L is addicted to SOMETHING resembling self-destructive behavior...I am in no way shape or form "psychologically dependent" on him. And I have not been since his behavior became unhealthy to me.

I am, however, parentally dependent on him. And my expectations of him end where the parenting ends. And they have for a long, long time. So please, don't go there with me. Any of you. It's bullshit. And don't take that on yourself, either. I have a feeling co-dependency is diagnosed predominantly in women. Just an inkling I have.

Codependents are people (mostly women) who are addicted to being needed; needing to be caretakers, listeners, sex providers, rescuers, whatever it is that they can provide. Not surprisingly, codependents are also people with very low self-esteem, so low that they need to feel needed to feel good about themselves. What is so great about these books is the way both Norwood and Beattie argue so emphatically that women deserve to feel good about themselves without being surrounded by, and looking after, abusive, alcoholic, battering, drug-taking or otherwise needy and manipulative partners. This is certainly important, but it is not enough. While books about codependency acknowledge that women deserve mutuality and equality in their relationships with men, they also say that women have to do the work of changing, and that healing society must always be postponed until after the individual is healed - which she never will be.

The term co-dependent is counter-productive. It perpetuates a myth that the victims of abuse did something to deserve that abuse, and removes at least some of the blame from the abuser. And the great psychological mindfuck of the term is that my rejection of it is seen as a "symptom" of co-dependency. I'm in DENIAL, baby. In actuality, all of this time that I had THOUGHT I was trying desperately to gnaw off any convenient limb in order to free myself from this relationship, and, from time to time over the past few years, resigning myself to remaining in it - I've actually been psychologically dependent on it. I'm just not self-aware enough to realize that.

Can you HEAR my eyes rolling?

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Warning: Whining about the Ex Ahead.

December 3, 2003

Turn back now if you have a weak stomach for this sort of thing.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

I really just feel like I need to get all of this stuff out because it's come to the point where I feel like I'm talking about this to death with my friends and I really feel like I just need to put it on paper so I can refer back to it at a later time.

I'll do this list-style...to keep it orderly:

A little more than 3 months since L moved out, and I still haven't seen a single thin dime from him in child support. Granted, he has no job, but still.
A little more than 3 months since L moved out, and he still doesn't have a place to live or watch the kids. This means he comes to my house every day to watch the kids. This means I still don't have the privacy and space that I was seeking to gain through breaking up with him in the first place. This wouldn't bother me so much if L didn't act like a total asshole about me being here while he's with the kids. If I dare to come home early from work or stay home (sick or vacation-wise) - he leaves within half an hour. Just leaves. And, like I guess I could argue with him, but like hell I'm going to make the kids feel like my taking care of them is some sort of burden I don't want to bear. Fuck him. Asshole. I know he thinks he's hurting me by being an asshole and not doing his share of the parenting, but in actuality he's just showing the kids that he's a selfish, uncaring asshole. And I don't even have to say it out loud for the kids to know it, but I'm sure if they ever tell him they think it of him - he'll find a way to blame me for it.
The house is messier when I come back than it is when I leave. Never mind that I have been stressing all week about this birthday party. Never mind that his children live here and leave the mess. Never mind that he watches them 25% OR LESS of the time. He can't bring himself to pick up their toys or do a SINGLE DISH more than what he used during the night.
My curfew is now 9:30 PM, because he absolutely refuses to take care of his children past that point and, due to the fact that I get no child support from him, I don't have enough money for a babysitter. If I ask him to stay late so I can go out or do anything other than work, he acts as if I am high on freaking crack. However, he wanders in and wanders out of here whenever it is convenient for him to do so. And he doesn't ASK for me to come home early, he tells me that I have to. Like on his son's birthday...
Don't even get me started on Monk's birthday. Monk has been talking for at LEAST a month about how his dad was going to take him out to the mall to get him a pack of yu-gi-oh cards for his birthday. Monk was so excited about it! He doesn't have any yu-gi-oh cards of his own, and L got Cole some for Cole's birthday, and promised Monk that he would get some. So, Monk's birthday comes, and as I'm leaving I ask L in private if he's planning to honor his promise. L acts like I'm crazy and insists he never said any such thing. Fucking asshole. Thankfully, it doesn't seem like Monk remembered either, but I do not know how this man sleeps at night. Instead, they spent the entire night inside the house. L let the boys watch him play Tony Hawk for the 15th night in a row. I'm pretty sure that's all they are doing at night now. Of course, that's speculation. I have no way of knowing for sure, and I wouldn't dream of asking Monk to confirm my suspicion. When I came home on Monk's birthday - an hour and a half before my scheduled time to be home - L left immediately. Monk asked if he could PLEASE play his computer game now.
L has no phone, and I have no idea where he is staying (for the last year of my marriage, my private joke was that I would hum the tune of "secret agent man" whenever he would enter the room, because he insisted upon such a high degree of personal privacy - and honored absolutely none of mine) but I am expected to tear the children away from whatever activity they are engaged in to get them home by 3 PM, when he's supposed to be here. Because there's no way for me to call him and let him know that we're on a field trip or at a birthday party or at the playground. And it's just terribly inconvenient for him to come all this way and for me to be late getting home with them, even though I am never late for any reason other than they were having a great time doing what they were doing, and I had a difficult time tearing them away (and I have offered to give him an advanced schedule of where they will be when they are late so he can go there instead and be there with them as they complete their activity...but that's apparently not convenient for him, and we all know that parenting involves a great deal of convenience for the adults in the equation. We all know that I just run around with the kids all freaking day long because I think it's so damn convenient for me to do so.) Likewise, I can never be sure if he will be here on time or at all, and I have no way to contact him if the children are sick or if they just want to talk to him. Apparently, being available to the children beyond the 40 or so hours a week that he is here is not a requirement for being an adequate parent in L's book. Guess what, L...it's a requirement in MY book. I would guess it's a requirement in the court's book...and I'm kinda thinking that it's a requirement in the kids' books. Not that you give a shit.
Did I mention 3 months and no child support? There's also this assumption that I have all this extra money lying around so I can like go out every night during my vacation and allow L the run of the house with the kids instead of doing what I planned to do - clean. I am officially having fantasies where the children are whisked away by a mysterious and kind-hearted friend or relative...for like A WEEK...so I can scrub my house with a toothbrush. It is so filthy here. I want to start in one corner and work my way around.
Cigarette butts - all over the ground - everywhere. Asshole. Children play in that yard. You make a big deal about not wanting them to watch you smoke, yet you leave evidence all over the place. Littering my yard.
Tomorrow I am renting a steam cleaner and I am cleaning the carpet in that back room. I know you said that you would do it if I would rent the unit...but I don't trust you to do a good job so I am doing it my damn self. You can pay me back the 30 bux or so it's going to cost along with the back child support and the 20 bux you already owe me.
Just in general...I mean, you KNOW I'm throwing this big party for monk and all of his friends. Yeah, I'm going to have a good time in the process, and I know how much you freaking hate the idea of me enjoying myself, but ultimately this party is for your son, and it would just be nice if you would put forth some sort of effort to make this a fun thing and an affordable thing for me to do. I suppose your solution is, as it has always been "You didn't have to offer to do it if you didn't want to" but that shit doesn't fly with a 7 year old. He wanted a party. He didn't get one last year because we were all sick. So, I mean - you know how to cook! You know how to do arts and crafts! Pitch in! Make a pinata! Cook an appetizer! BE THERE!
While we're on the subject of cooking...I'm not sure what you are trying to prove by refusing to cook for the children and instead only preparing the few convenience foods that I buy with the intention of using on those days that I have to make hurry-up lunches before running out to co-op or playgroup or park day.
My friends who help me with the kids are not only doing me a favor, they are actually doing YOUR job. All of the people who have donated to my paypal fund are doing YOUR job. We're all waiting here in the real world for you to get your shit together so others can stop picking up your slack for you.

OK. phew. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep that up for very long, but damn it helped to get it out. I like how I switched in the middle of that little vent from addressing the public at large to addressing L in specific. Oh well, this ain't a writing workshop.

UPDATE: This REALLY resonated with me:

"Because it's visible, physical abuse is the most obvious," says Ferraro, associate professor of justice studies and associate director of the ASU Women's Studies Program. "But emotional abuse which includes intimidation, using male privilege, using children, and destroying property can be just as destructive. Those are all things that are done for the purpose of undermining a woman's sense of control and manipulating her to obey.'
From this article.

Posted at 11:58 PM • Comments (6) • TrackBack

Rich People are so damn cheap.

December 3, 2003

There really is no point to this post other than I feel the need to vent in a vague and non-specific way to avoid getting myself in trouble in case the rich person or persons in question actually read my blog.

But, damnit...there are some margins of money that just aren't worth complaining about. I figure if *I* can afford to cover someone's tip in a restaurant, this person can cover this small margin without even bothering to bring it up to the group.

But then, maybe that's why I'm poor and they are rich.

P.S. It has been a hell of a week, so expect more venting - as well as a disclamatory post about "positivity."

UPDATE: This post is incredibly rude and assumptive and doesn't give credit to the many rich people or at least well-off people in the world who truly aren't so damn cheap. But I'm too busy playing a game with my son to do any thoughtful posting right now, so i'll correct this later.

Posted at 9:23 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

I turned on the TV last night

December 3, 2003

To try to catch a bit of zone out time before the kids became mine for the evening, and somehow chanced to catch a snippet of conversation off an unknown drama show that went something like this:

"I figure I can always go to college, get into the right sorority, meet a rich frat guy and get married...unless I get fat."

eyeroll.

So THAT'S what I've been doing wrong all of these years! Shit, I need to get on the "finding a rich frat guy husband" plan right fucking now. Time is a-wasting. Where's that Abdomonizer when I need it? Someone, quick, send me some methamphetamines!

That TV is SO TOTALLY getting placed on a high, high shelf as soon as I get one cleared off.

Posted at 8:47 AM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Ugh.

December 2, 2003

I need a pep talk. I feel so gross and lazy right now. My throat hurts, i had continuous coughing fits last night. I'm EXHAUSTED and dizzy, and just not feeling well at all...

And I have a birthday party to prepare for. I have no idea how I'm going to get this place into shape for visitors. It's really really messy and I don't have any energy to clean it up. Should I put it off, hoping that I get a last minute burst of energy on Friday night? Or should I risk making myself sicker by chipping away at it gradually, losing perhaps necessary rest in the meantime.

I'm about to take Monk to his craft co-op, and I might be able to convince coley to lay down with me for a nap when we get back from dropping off Monk. I'm not sure if I will wake up once asleep - and, again, I have no idea how I'm going to get up the energy to clean this damn house.

Urgh. Urgh. Urgh.

Did I mention we had to cancel Monk's birthday party last year because we were all too sick to have it? I postponed it because I was sick, and then I cancelled it because the kids got sick. Poor Monk deserves an awesome party. Send some healing energy my way, and wish me luck! I think I'm going with the nap plan, and see where that gets me. I know it's only Tuesday, but we have a busy week planned.

Sigh.

Posted at 12:33 PM • Comments (6) • TrackBack

Chomsky on Privilege.

December 2, 2003

'Responsibility I believe accrues through privilege,' he begins. 'People like you and me have an unbelievable amount of privilege and therefore we have a huge amount of responsibility. We live in free societies where we are not afraid of the police, we have extraordinary wealth available to us by global standards. If you have those things then you have the kind of responsibility that a person does not have if he or she is slaving 70 hours a week to put food on the table - a responsibility at the very least to inform yourself about power. Beyond that it is a question of whether you believe in moral certainties or not.'
Guardian Unlimited Books | By genre | Noam Chomsky: Thorn in America's side
Thanks to George for the link.

Posted at 10:37 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Cole, Antibiotics, and Seasonale

December 2, 2003

I took Cole to the doctor yesterday. Thankfully, we apparently have one month left on our CHIP plan, so I didn't have to pay out of pocket for the doctor, or the prescription.

Cole's had this problem with his thumb for awhile now. It's the thumb that lives next to the fingers he always has in his mouth. The thumb doesn't get sucked, but I imagine it gets slimed a lot...and for the past month or so, it's been looking kind of disgusting. At first, it was just the nail - it was kind of peely and brown. Monk has had the same problem with his nails, and we've treated it with vitamin e and tea tree oil. Cole's wasn't clearing up, and finally yesterday morning I looked at it all red and puffy and painful to the touch and decided that it was time to go to the doctor.

At the doctor, I felt somewhat vindicated in my struggles with Coley, because as the doctor was trying to examine Cole's ears, nose, and throat, Coley was SCREAMING "NO! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!!!!" Which is one of the things that makes me feel like a majorly bad mom with him, because every time I try to do something necessary (like brushing his teeth) he yells the same thing to me, and all this time I have been feeling like I have been overly rough with him. I know this doctor was not being rough. It was painful to listen to, and I could tell the doc was getting kind of perturbed about it.

Anyway, Cole's thumb is infected. The doctor wrote up a prescription for an antibiotic and I filled it and am administering it.

Which I know might sound odd to some of you who have witnessed my lengthy diatribes against the medical industry and their fancy-pants snake oil, but here's the deal: I am not a pharmaceutical luddite.

Instead, I believe strongly that pharmaceuticals should only be used when they are absolutely necessary, and that the patient (or the guardian of the patient) almost always knows best when they are necessary. And I feel that in this instance, we have tried everything we know how to try (although I'm kind of wondering if the neosporin and hydrogen peroxide that L was using might have irritated the skin and made it worse, but that just might be the bitchy control freak in me) and it's time for modern medicine to stop in.

It is this rationale that makes it perfectly logical for there to be some individuals for whom the pill and seasonale might be a medical necessity rather than a warped anti-feminist marketing ploy. I have known people with extremely painful and/or otherwise harmful periods, and I don't envy them. My periods used to be a lot worse, too - before I had kids...but still not bad enough to want to eliminate them completely. I have to trust a woman who makes wise choices about her body and chooses to use a form of hormonal birth control.

But it's all about choice and marketing. I don't think the pharmaceutical industry is set up to remain profitable if it only markets to people who actually NEED the drug they are peddling. That's why they want to make this particular drug seem appealing to women who don't necessarily need it and might not want it. And that's what bothers me. Not just that, but the message that periods are somehow undesirable - which is a message that is passed on through their marketing to women AND men - girls AND boys. Of course, it's not profitable to anyone to run an ad campaign about the beauty of being a woman and knowing your cycle and growing to love it.

When the doctor examined Cole's ears, he told me that he saw "a little red" in his ears."

"He might have the beginnings of an ear infection," the doctor said.

"Hm." I said.

My kids have never ever had ear infections. Neither of them. At least, they have never been diagnosed with one. Perhaps they have had them, and my reluctance to go to the doctor when they are sick prevented them from having been prescribed with antibiotics to clear it up. Perhaps they have had ear infections, and their bodies have cleared them up on their own...

The other week, my assistant at work was out ill all week. He couldn't get an appointment at the free clinic, and didn't have enough money to visit a doctor. He came back and said he must not have had an infection, because he didn't take antibiotics, and he was still feeling better.

"Infections don't go away without antibiotics" He said.

"They DON'T?" I asked.

"Well, no! That's what my doctor told me, anyway," He said.

"Dude," I told him..."Your body is DESIGNED to fight off infections."

This kid is 21. I wonder how many people out there don't have a basic understanding of how the body works. I wonder how much intent the pharmacuetical industry has in interfering with this basic knowledge.

UPDATE: Michelle contributes to the discussion about Seasonale here. You ARE a rock star, Michelle.

Posted at 10:03 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Monk Turns SEVEN

December 1, 2003

Oh my freaking holy gadzooks. Monk is turning SEVEN tomorrow. I was just chatting with someone on IM when it struck me. SEVEN YEARS OLD. Put a "teen" after it, and he's almost a legal adult.

It's funny, too. I don't freak out about my age, and I never really have...but lately I have been freaking out about how old my children are getting. I have a SEVEN YEAR OLD and a THREE YEAR OLD. It just totally blows my mind.

I wish I could squeeze out one of those beautifully philisophical posts about how much Monk's presence in my life has meant to me through the years, but I don't have time! I have to bake cupcakes for his craft group tomorrow, and I need to really make some headway on cleaning this damn house for his birthday party. Plus I have a couple of presents to wrap. Yeah, I know I wasn't supposed to buy him anything. I KNOW he said he only wanted a HUG for his birthday...but I found some cheap software at Ross and I couldn't resist. It's EDUCATIONAL. Give me a break, here.

Besides, don't I post sappy, overly-sentimental posts about how great my kids are just about every damn day? That is, when I'm not posting freaked-out, overly-angstful posts about how I'm failing them as a mother...I would think you would be sick of hearing about it by now.

But maybe I'll muster something later.

Posted at 11:34 PM • Comments (5) • TrackBack

More rage against Fox.

December 1, 2003

I forgot about one more item on fox news last night that got my blood boiling. There was a 5 minute or so segment about how unfair it is that immigrants in California have increased census numbers and potentially influenced voting. In this segment, any mention of immigrants made it sound like ALL immigrants are illegal and that immigrants don't pay taxes or contribute to the economy in any way.

Needless to say, sick as I was, I was still cussing out the television. If I had a freaking dime for every time I hear some asshat conservative gripe about people in this country who don't pay taxes, I might be able to afford health insurance for my kids! In reality, there is no one who lives here who can get away with evading ALL taxes...and if you are able to do so, you are already so self-sustaining that you probably aren't any burden on our economic system anyway.

Anyway, this is why I'm glad that I stumbled on this article at LiP Magazine just now.

In the final analysis, none of the claims made by conservatives to inveigh against immigration hold up to scrutiny: immigrants are no more and perhaps less likely to receive public assistance than the native-born; they are no more and often less likely to engage in serious criminal activity; and ultimately, their desire to live in the U.S.—especially given the anti-immigrant backlash of recent years—is testament to nothing so much as their desire to take advantage of the greater opportunities still available here, relative to the places from whence they come.
Of course, a few more years of Bushanomics might well remedy the situation: after all, if there aren't any jobs being created, no one will want to come to the United States.

In your FACE, asshat conservatives.

Posted at 7:42 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Seasonale.

December 1, 2003

Since I am a bleeder as of this morning, I found this article at Hatch quite interesting and informative.

Seasonale is creepy, and what's even creepier is how its advocates are using the "natural menstruation" argument as a way to tout the product. One article about the product boasted, "The FDA just approved a new birth control pill that will allow women to have periods only four times a year -- just as nature intended," a dig at those who would argue about the healthiness of blocking menstruation for such a long duration.
Proponents (read as: pharmaceutical company shills) of Seasonale argue that women have more periods now than in the past because we have so few children. One common piece of research pointed to is this tidbit: In 1900, Women had around 150 periods in a lifetime; while (thanks to lower childbirth rates and longer life spans) women today have closer to 450.

Whether there's anything particularly wrong with that (how did all those non-childbearing spinsters COPE back in 1900? Did they all DIE TERRIBLY BLOODY MENSTRUAL DEATHS? Was it JUST AWFUL?), and whether having yourself on hormones 332 days out of the year is a solution to the dubious problem is a much larger issue.

I, for one, actually enjoy having a period. I imagine (although, having never used any sort of hormone-based birth control product, I can't know for sure) there is still a cycle whether or not there is bleeding - and I really like the closure that comes when I get my period. As in "A-HA! That's why I've been feeling all weird and out of sorts."

Thanks to yomama! for the link.

Posted at 7:12 PM • Comments (10) • TrackBack

Thank You.

December 1, 2003

First of all, thanks so much to everyone who responded to my previous mama freakout. There were so many good, solid suggestions interspersed with a great deal of encouragement...and I appreciate all of it.

After I wrote that post, I went to lay down with Coley, and I realized that I was feeling kind of stiff and achy and dizzy. Very dizzy. And sweaty. I was sick! I spent the rest of the day lying in agony on bed, alternating between feeling freezing freaking cold and way too hot. And I realized that I have been sick with one thing or other for pretty much the entire week. As have the kids. And they haven't really been out much and all that entails. So there is an element of cabin fever going on here that might explain why I'm feeling so short-tempered and nasty - not that it's an excuse, but it's good to figure out there are contributing factors and not just arbitrary rage.

So I spent the ENTIRE afternoon/night in bed. I watched way too much television. I snuggled with the kids while they were in the bed with me, and Monk was kind enough to play with Coley pretty much the whole time while I was resting. I was very thankful for that, and there weren't any of the little screaming arguments that frequently occur when they play together, which was extra nice.

I still have a horrible headache, but I think I'm going to feel a lot better in the morning. I didn't barf, which is a Really Good Thing because I'm a total wimp about barfing. Monk was disappointed, though - because barfing is his new favorite bodily function.

We're coming up on the change of seasons, and it's time to re-evaluate the rhythm anyway. Coley is inconsistent about his reaction to morning circle. There are days when he will participate fully the entire time. There are days when he will quietly go off and play by himself. There are days like today that 15 minutes into the story-time he will kick and fuss and make a scene. I have to also give him credit for being a little sick himself. And, being the youngest, I'm sure it's frustrating to have to comply with what Monk wants to do all of the time.

Anyway, I better go back to bed. Looking around my house is depressing me - it's such a mess. I'm relying on L to take the boys to the playground tomorrow when he gets here so I can clean, and he said he would, but he so very rarely keeps his word about such things. And then he so very rarely acknowledges that he has lied or broken a promise. I don't want to set myself up for disappointment. I might try to find someone to take my kids tomorrow afternoon if I'm feeling better so I can just get some work done then. If I'm not feeling better, I just hope that he does take them to the playground so I can get some more rest. The kids were very patient with me today. I managed to make dinner for them and avoid power struggles, but they got very little of my attention. They will need me to pay attention to them tomorrow, and I'm hoping I have the energy.

Oh...while laying in bed, I happened to watch Fox News last night (I don't have a remote, so the TV tends to just stay on one channel when I'm feeling pitiful). Holy fuck, you know? I know it's cliche to make fun of the imbalanced reporting on Fox News...and I know I've done it before...but gah! Here are some things I was pissed off about:

Gleeful reporting about the 50 or so Iraqi soldiers who were killed in yesterday's firefight, and practically no mention of our dead and wounded. Secondary mention of the North Korean, Spanish, Japanese, and Colombian civilians and soldiers who had died. Almost casual mention - and quickly followed by reassurance that the Spanish and Japanese governement is committed to remaining in Iraq.
A story about acid reflux and esophageal cancer which showed pictures of fat people eating too much and walking around with their fat bellies...and then an interview with the very thin man who actually HAD the illness. The man who had the illness was treated very sympathetically during the interview (which was a good thing) but the images of fat people pigging out were shot in the usual shaming method of "Look at how disgusting we are as a nation, and this illness is our punishment."

This one took the cake: In the middle of reporting on actual news, they did a piece on how much money George W. Bush has been able to raise, and how much more web presence he has than Howard Dean. And, basically, how much more likely he was to win because he has so much in his "war chest" and will be able to "do battle on multiple fonts." What is with the war analogies when reporting about the presidential election? Isn't that just a wee bit offensive, considering we are actually fighting a war here? And the clip they showed as they were talking about how much money he has raised thus far was one in which Bush was smiling that smug smile that makes me want to slap him. Does it make anyone else really fucking sick that these people - any candidate, really - are able to raise so much money to run for office as our public servants while there are people who don't have enough to eat and don't have health insurance for their kids? What the fuck is up with that? Where does all of this money come from? Why is it less important to feed and care for people than it is to run for freaking political office?

Agh. Anyway...back to bed with me. I just needed to let that out before crawling back between the covers.

Thanks again for all of the support.

Posted at 2:38 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack