DruBlood

Home
Dramatis Personae
Archives
Contact

Feed the Bleed

Full Bleed Fundraiser

Amazon wish list
Cole’s birthday - 10/24
Monk’s birthday - 12/2
Dru’s birthday - 1/5

Search

Search this site:

Syndicate this site (XML)

Archives

June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
October 2005
September 2005
August 2005
July 2005
June 2005
May 2005
April 2005
March 2005
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
October 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
May 2003
April 2003
March 2003
July 2002
June 2002
May 2002

Special thanks

adam host
julie template queen
kd general lusciousness
pea guru

Powered byMovable Type 1.5

« August 2005 | Main | October 2005 »

The Consumerist Field Trip

September 30, 2005

Perhaps I'm applying depth to an otherwise shallow endeavor, but today's field trip started to seem more and more like a learning experience the longer we were out and about.

Well, OK, maybe not...but how cool is it that my son spent the day at a record store when most kids his age are in school?

bahahahhaha.

But, seriously...I think we're going to make a habit of this kind of inconvenient spending field trip. Not a necessity? Don't drive to get it. It took us at least an hour to get to the record store, and at least an hour and a half to get back. We actually had to go to two record stores to find Picaresque (although Waterloo had the vinyl version, and I was sorely tempted to shell out the dough for it, but...well I really don't have enough idle cash to start being a record collector.) Granted, we spent money on lunch, but we also spent a great deal of time walking around our fair city and talking about stuff. Coley actually walked the entire time without complaining, which is a miracle...

...and by the same miracle, he didn't plunge to a bloody death when he decided to crawl under a barrier and stand on the edge of a bridge that hangs 20-30 feet over a drainage ditch. Monk and I were walking hand in hand, and I turned around to the shock of NO COLEY. Of course, I did the absolute worst thing you are supposed to do when you realize that it's very possible that the barrier that is meant to keep people from plunging to their bloody death has only served as a delightful challenge to your barrier-busting 4-year old - I screamed. Yeah, that's great, lady! I'm really awesome around tightrope walkers, too.

Thankfully, Coley emerged unscathed and I instantly snatched him up in my arms. He was on the verge of tears anyway - sensing my distress. So I just held him close to me and explained to him, yet again, what barriers are for, and why they need to be acknowledged, respected and obeyed. Later, when I told this story to a horrified Pansy, she had the wisdom to point out that it was horribly illustrative of the way Coley seems oblivious to any sort of boundaries - physical and otherwise - and in fact I had spent most of the bus ride downtown attempting to get him to respect my personal boundaries with regard to not being leaned on and pinched (for those new to the world of Coley, he has a totally annoying habit of pinching on my upper arms that has driven me crazy since he was old enough to pinch and I was awake enough to be driven crazy by it). It's as if Coley exists to defy boundaries, which I'm sure will serve an important function in his life if we can teach him to use his power for good and not (scare and/or annoy mama to death) evil. After that ordeal was over and my heart started beating regularly, I bent down and made sure Coley understood that what he was getting from me was not anger but fear - and how very real the danger was. His little eyes brimmed with tears, and he quavered "I'm sorry, mama." and I said sternly, but gently "Look - don't be sorry...be safe! I love you." Monk responded to the situation by saying "You are SO not getting any lemonade now, Coley" in that sort of taunting exasperated tone that older brothers get when they are trying to disguise that they were a little freaked out, too. Later in the day we encountered a similar bridge with a similar barrier and we talked again about what the barriers were for, and why we don't explore the other side of them. I am really hoping he got the message this time. I mean, the kid is almost five, and he has been running up to the edges of things and scaring the piss out of me ever since he learned to walk. I used to be afraid that I was being overly fearful, but...no. I think he's just under-cautious. Truly. There's a little switch in there that hasn't been flipped, and I'm really worried that it won't GET flipped until he actually hurts himself.

(Of course, part of me is remembering the conversation about "bad parents" from last week and thinking defiantly "Fuck them. Fuck them all. They have no fucking clue what it is like to parent a child like Coley. None.")

In the end, we all survived. We got the CD and all in all we walked about 2 miles or so to and from buses. The kids had a grand old time running up and down the hill at whatever the fuck that park is by the library and across the street from the court house. We got to actually talk to people in the process of commuting and being out and about. Cars are such sterile little capsules. I really wish I had more time to avoid them. And Coley fell fast asleep on the bus on the way home, so we were spared his shenanigans for a scant 30 minutes or so.

When we got home, we listened to Picaresque about a hundred thousand times, Monk did some math and had some computer time, and by the time Steven came to get the kids, we were all quite happily sick to death of each other.

& Believe it or not, I think I'm actually sick of The Decemberists, too.

Or maybe I just need some sleep. Maybe that's it.

How slow am I?

September 30, 2005

This afternoon while I was distracted with something stupid, Coley came up to me and said "Mom, it says on your chore chart that you are going to do yoga today. Can I do yoga with you?"

"Sure, Honey. You want to do yoga with me? No problem."

Five hours later, the kids are at their dad's hoUse and I'm watching The Incredibles and doing some leg stretches, and I think:

"Holy fuck! That little booger knows how to READ!"

Because 12 is a better number than 10.

September 30, 2005

Even if I refuse to do the coolness audit (but you can coolness audit it for me, if you'd like):

1. Screeching Weasel - Cool Kids
2. Public Enemy - Shut 'em Down
3. Pink - Eventually
4. Jawbreaker - Into You Like a Train
5. Barry Louis Polisar - It All Comes Back To Me
6. Barry Louis Polisar - I Don't Brush My Teeth and I Never Comb My Hair
7. Bjork - Isobel
8. The Handsome Family - Tin Foil
9. Velvet Underground - All Tomorrow's Parties
10. Peter Tosh - Here Comes the Sun
11. Sneaker Pimps - Wasted Early Sunday Morning
12. Tom Waits - Bend Down the Branches

Tomorrow the boys and I are taking a consumerist field trip down to Waterloo Records to get Picaresque, because none of us can get "16 Military Wives" and "The Engine Driver" out of our heads. We're going to take the bus and have lunch at Waterloo Ice House, and make an adventure out of it.

Noodling with the site...

September 29, 2005

I'm trying to procrastinate working on this arduous spreadsheet I'm creating for content development assignments for the new website where I work. So, um, I am fiddling with my site.

I hope it doesn't fuck up Jhames' totally beautiful design to include that last comments thingy there. I just really like the idea of being able to see who has commented on what posts most recently, especially now that there is no chance of spam. Jhames, if you read this and you are mad at me...feel free to email me and bitch. And, honey, I swear when I have a roommate (and, therefore, some extra money) I'm going to send you some nice-smelling hair care products.

I also included a link to my (work in progress) about page. A LOOOOOONG time ago I asked people to send me interview questions for that page, and I answered a few and then my enthusiasm waned. I figure, what the hell...I have nothing better to do with my time...I might as well just go on and on about myself. If anyone has any questions they would like to send, feel free to email me. I still have questions left over from when I initially put the word out, but I might move you to the front of the list if your questions are fun and/or interesting. The page is a work in progress because I'm still working on the archive pages. Again, Jhames, if it makes you feel homicidal...you can yell at me and I will remove it. All hail Jhames, the king of website/blog design!

So, yeah. Now that I have done that, I need to find something else to distract me from, you know, actually working. Maybe I'll put up a link to my flickr page...

Yes. No.

September 29, 2005

Yes, there was a post here before.

No, it's not here anymore.

It's stunning.

September 29, 2005

It's absolutely stunning to come to the sudden understanding as to WHY I've always felt like an outsider in every context of my life. This reality has been revealed to me at various points in my life...most recently in an email that was FORWARDED to me from my sister. An email from my aunt, who I always suspected never considered me a part of the family, but never really knew why. The email was imploring my brother and sisters, who have chosen to not speak with my father anymore (just like me) to please find a way to make peace with him as he is undergoing a quadruple bypass surgery this week. Today.

I wasn't included in the email. I'm not a member of that family. It's clear to me. I hurts me...so much.

Because, you see, because I have 7 brothers and sisters, and because I am a half-sibling to all of them, there is a whole other family that I'm not a part of, either. Because I am "the other." To the A's, I am a D...and to the D's...I am nothing.

So, yeah. I had to turn off AIM today. Not because I didn't want to talk to my sister, who has been kind to me and a true sister (one of the few members of the family who has been)...but because I didn't exactly feel like being reminded why I've felt this way my whole life. I would like to be able to invalidate those feelings as easily as the rest of my family seems to be able to.

A few personal notes, and then...

September 29, 2005

First, wow! What a fucking awesome day. It's sort of that grey that fall days used to be in Chicago and though I know it will be up in the 80's before too long, it's 63 now. My plan is to finish this post and my coffee, then gather the kids up to take a long, long, long, long, long walk around the neighborhood to enjoy the weather...and as long as we don't get a thunderstorm, we're going to spend the majority of the afternoon at some park or another.

Did you all realize that it's been over 100 degrees almost every day for the past week and a half? I turned on my car stereo yesterday and the weatherman chirped "It's 105 degrees in Austin" as if it was no big deal. Honey, when there's no A/C in the van, and when it seems like the A/C unit in your house is going to rattle right through the ceiling very soon...105 degrees is a VERY big deal. I've been hibernating. I haven't been on a walk in over a week. I'm ready to get out there and enjoy the great outdoors. Fuck this hundred degree weather at the end of September shit. I want a kinder, gentler apocalypse, please.

So, it's a long walk and park time today...and tonight L has the kids, so I will come home from work and clean up and when it appears the park is clear of dogs, I will take my Twyla-girl out to romp around the park and take a walk with me. & Since Thursday is my Friday, I will stay up late and think up nefarious ways in which I can spend my kid-free weekend. Nefarious plans which will, for the most part, center around Cleaning The House and maybe Doing Some Painting.

If I wasn't clear about it before (and I think I was intentionally obscure) in about a month, I'm going to be sharing this house with a family of four. I'm both elated and anxious. I think it will be hard - not because the people I am going to be sharing it with are hard, but because 7 people in a house is always hard. But I think it will also be rewarding. I have to figure out a mantra that focuses on not taking anything too personally, because I am so so so so sensitive & have a difficult time interpreting when I should act on that sensitivity and when I should just let things slide. I'm going to err on the side of letting things slide. This will be a temporary arrangement that will facilitate me getting my spare room fixed up (to enable me to rent the room out in the future) and getting a little rent money besides while the other family regroups from some financial hardship and finds a decent place to live - hopefully in this neighborhood so we can continue to work towards building a community, only maybe not right on top of and underneath and all over each other.

It's a pretty exciting turning point in my life & I feel blessed. There's a part of me that thinks back on all of the roommate situations I've had in my lifetime and is scared to death that I'm jeopardizing one of the most important friendships in my life...but the majority of me understands that we all understand that sometimes frustration is the nature of the arrangement...and probably just as we figure out how to live together, we will be disbanding.

So, anyway, yeah. I will be doing some cleaning up and clearing away. There's lots of culling to do. Lots of storing. There will be a large garage sale at some point. Monk's excited about tiling the floor in the back room. I'm excited about painting back there and finishing the paint job on my kitchen and living room...and perhaps starting in on my bedroom. The presence of so many people will force me to get out more, which is a good thing. I haven't been to a movie by myself in years, and I miss that. Plus I think I will actually get to HANG OUT with Pansy every once in awhile, which is something that only happens on an occasional weekend or for the brief time in between picking up and dropping off children.

I'm pretty psyched. I'm going to allow myself to be psyched.

I hope you all have a lovely first day of fall-like weather.

AIDS virus could be 'weakening'

September 29, 2005

I thought this was an interesting article...BBC NEWS | Health | Aids virus 'could be weakening'

Researcher Dr Eric Artz said: "This was a very preliminary study, but we did find a pretty striking observation in that the viruses from the 2000s are much weaker than the viruses from the eighties.

"Obviously this virus is still causing death, although it may be causing death at a slower rate of progression now. Maybe in another 50 to 60 years we might see this virus not causing death."

I just had to put this here.

September 29, 2005

because it makes my little heathen heart proud:

RELIGIOUS belief can cause damage to a society, contributing towards high murder rates, abortion, sexual promiscuity and suicide, according to research published today.

According to the study, belief in and worship of God are not only unnecessary for a healthy society but may actually contribute to social problems.

[I swiped it from a comment at Norbizness' site]

Banned Book Week Meme

September 28, 2005

The Badge has a list of the hundred most challenged books, and has bolded the ones she has read. I'm going to do the same:

Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Giver by Lois Lowry
It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Sex by Madonna
Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel (haven't read it, but it's definitely on my list)
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
The Goats by Brock Cole
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
Blubber by Judy Blume
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel (Badger boy is currently reading this for school -- uh oh)
Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein (over, and over, and over again.)
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
Cujo by Stephen King
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
Jack by A.M. Homes
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
Carrie by Stephen King
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
The Dead Zone by Stephen King
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

Now you go.

Who's doing the "finger pointing" and "blame gaming" now?

September 28, 2005

ararrrarrrrhghghghghaghgh;aghghaghet iwetashef!!!!!

Sorry, that was the sound of my head exploding AGAIN due to the rampant hypocrisy of anyone associated with George Bush.

NPR : Ex-FEMA Director Defends Agency's Response

He's ACTUALLY FUCKING POINTING HIS FINGER!

I would laugh except, you know, my vocal cords sorta went with the whole exploding head thing.

Food Thoughts.

September 27, 2005

Over the years, I've gone through various iterations of food purchasing theorems. I've made lists (even creating a food cost database that enabled me to create a list, in order of location, with approximate costs of each item included), I've made menu plans, and I've varied that frequency of grocery trips.

As my level of income has changed, so has my devotion to organic foods and vegetarian, environmentally, community friendly stores. In spite of my thorough desire to support both of these endeavors, sometimes I just don't have enough money to feed my family affordably and shop conscientiously.

Here are a few tips that seem to be enduring, though:

• Don't believe the bullshit about shopping as infrequently as possible. I never spent more money on groceries than I did when I was proudly shopping every other week. Because, the thing was, I overbought. It's hard to predict what you will run out of in two weeks, and if you are anything like me, the tendency to stock up in the face of a two-week long deprivation will kill the budget. Plus, you will always want fresh fruit and veggies. Instead, I now do a major shopping expedition on Sunday every week (or thereabouts) in which I purchase the staples (you should have a list of items that you need in your pantry - see examples here) as well as the ingredients for one or two dishes that can be kept on hand during the week (like a big pot of soup or a casserole). Then, if I need to run out during the week to get something - I just go to the neighborhood grocery store. I can walk there, and forcing myself to only go there during the week makes me evaluate whether I really "need" something or merely "want" it. Not that wants for foods are necessarily all bad, but the fact that I have to take time out to walk to the store for my want certainly cuts down on excess. I think the argument against shopping frequently is that you tend to make more impulse buys. My answer to this argument is, um, don't make more impulse buys!

• I do still make a menu plan every week, only now I pretty much do it in my head. I have my big pot of soup, and I always have sandwich fixings on hand. I generally get by from Monday-Wednesday with soup leftovers and/or sandwiches. On Wednesday, I put up all of the leftover soup in the freezer (and if there's a LOT extra on Thursday, I distribute bags of frozen soup to various friends and co-workers) and we have pasta for lunch (I think this is actually a holdover from the Prince Spaghetti advertising of my youth: Wednesday is PRINCE SPAGHETTI DAY!) Thursday is our park day, so it's back to sandwiches or maybe tacos (in the winter, I tend to bake potatoes on Thursdays.) Fridays, we are grazing on whatever is left in the fridge. On the weekends, if I don't have the kids, I just get by on my own. Occasionally I will run to the store and get a frozen pizza (although it's so easy to make pizza now that I have a good and easy recipe for crust, thanks to Mquest, that I might just start making it myself.) And Sunday it's soup again. This plan varies little, and seems to work well. Breakfast is always bagels (for Monk) and oatmeal (for coley) and a little of both for me - or an egg sandwich. Oh, and in the past I have cooked up a pot of beans once a week...I need to start doing that again. There are always healthy snacks around & I try to stick with fruit and something proteiny and some type of chips or granola bars. These vary as the kids pass in and out of food preference stages.

• I also always always make a shopping list when I go to the store. When I go with the kids, they are told that they can make one choice of a treat at the END of the shopping trip. They can think about what they want as a treat for the entire trip, but we won't get it until the end. This REALLY seems to cut down on the "I want that, and that and that andthatandthatandthat" bullshit that I used to have to endure from them. I simply tell them to think quietly about what they want, and when we are done, they can choose it. I've gotten to the point where I will let them choose anything EXCEPT for candy, although many other convenience foods are no better than candy anyway. They also get to take turns choosing an ice cream treat on Sunday (sunday sundaes). I get a treat, too!

• Due to my recent financial uprising, I have decided that I"m going to start withdrawing the money for my food budget when my paycheck hits the bank, so I will be spending cash on food, and when the cash is gone, we eat what's in the cupboards and fridge. I'm starting off by cutting my previous food budget by about 25% to see if I can get by on less if I restrict myself to a cash-only economy. We'll see how that goes. One of the side effects of this is that I will always have cash on Sunday when I'm at the farmer's market & can buy fresh fruits and veggies there.

That's all I can think of for now. Do you have any tips or tricks to help rein in spending on food, as well as waste?

Dude, that's just WRONG.

September 26, 2005

The Raw Story | CBS News says Michael Brown rehired as FEMA consultant

From CBS's Katrina blog: "Sept. 26, 2005 /6:44 p.m. (CBS) — CBS News correspondent Gloria Borger reports that Michael Brown, who recently resigned as the head of the FEMA, has been rehired by the agency as a consultant to evaluate it's [sic] response following Hurricane Katrina."

It makes last week's This Modern World seem all the more plausible.

Meanwhile...in DC

September 26, 2005

Civil Resistance at the White House | AfterDowningStreet.org

The weirdest flat tire incident I've ever had. (or, how many homeless people, Katrina evacuees, and moronic, socially inept bloggers does it take to change a tire?)

September 26, 2005

So, I'm driving down I-35 on my way to work & I move over a lane in front of a truck. The truck promptly honks at me, and in my rearview, I see the driver making a gesture at me. At first, I just think he's flipping me off, because I realized after I changed lanes that I did not have my signal on (I swear I MEANT to signal.) Then I realize he's indicating to me that my tire is low. So I give him the thumbs up and he gives me the thumbs up and I continue driving, thinking to myself that I'll just fill up at the gas station when I get some water.

About five minutes later, a woman pulls up next to me and yells out "Hey...did you know you have a flat tire?"

I go "No! Is it totally flat?"

She goes "Yeah...TOTALLY."

So I go about trying to pull off the highway so I can see about taking care of that...

I managed to pull off the highway and into a parking lot without riding the rim. Apparently, although the tire appeared to be flat, it was still in the process of flattening, so I'm glad I didn't do any damage to my car, and I'm certainly glad I didn't have a major blow-out in rush hour traffic.

So, I get out of the car and instantly there is this kind-hearted homeless man running over to try to help me. He asks me if I have a jack, and I'm all "No!" (Because I'm a total idiot and I still haven't replaced the jack that was ruined the last time I got a flat tire.) so he tells me "Don't worry! I'll find you a jack!" And he starts flagging down random cars on the access road, trying to find me another kind-hearted citizen with a jack.

Soon, he finds one. A woman pulls into the parking lot in her rental car. She is, of all things, a Katrina evacuee, and she says she has "nothing better to do" than to help me out. (She was so sweet. Through this entire adventure, I kept saying "Are you sure you don't need to be somewhere, and she kept saying "Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing that has happened to me all week!")

So my new friend starts jacking up the car with my other new friend's jack (I have to say that I've had like 3-4 flat tires in the time I have lived in Austin, and not once have I even been ALLOWED to fix them myself.) And it's not until he has the car up on the jack that he realizes the tire iron doesn't fit my car's bolts.

So, while I'm calling all of my friends to try to get someone to come down to help me (note to self, when a homeless guy, his pregnant partner, a Katrina evacuee, your workmates, and your friend who is taking care of 4 children all volunteer to help and your boyfriend tells you he has to visit his sick granny, but you can page him if it's an emergency and then NEVER ANSWERS THE PAGE when you finally start feeling like it's getting to be an emergency - and still hasn't answered the page even now at 10:23 PM - it's really probably about time to end the relationship. Especially if this revelation occurs to you in the same week that the lead singer in an indie rock band pays more attention to your son than aforementioned boyfriend on a particularly exciting time in your son's life, and you've started thinking "Hey...maybe this guy's not really into the whole 'dating a mama' thing.") the homeless guy (can we just call him Renaldo, because I am tired of calling him the homeless guy?) is standing on the side of the road, waving around a tire iron and asking random commuters if they "have a four-way." Meanwhile, Renaldo's pregnant wife/girlfriend (let's call her Karen) is standing on the corner doing the same, and even the Katrina evacuee (let's call her Ray Anne) is trying to wave people down. Of course, you know no one is going to stop, because it's Austin, because it's rush hour, and because people tend to not respond well to people standing on the side of the road waving tire irons.

Meanwhile, like the queen of social ineptitude that I am, I'm frantically calling everyone I know who might own or be acquainted with someone who owns a tire iron. My boss sends our work study staff member (the one in the post before this one) and says she'll follow shortly, and I tell Renaldo and Karen and Ray Anne that the cavalry is on its way.

In the meantime, we manage to flag 3 or 4 people down, and they pull up to my van in the parking lot like my own personal "Drive through to help the crazy lady with the flat tire window." No one seems to have an iron that works, until finally, an hour and a half or so after the ordeal began, a nice man who is totally all business pulls up, cranks the car up, changes the tire, and drives off before I even have a chance to thank him.

While this was happening, I was talking to Ray Anne about her ordeal. Evidently, she was stranded in New Orleans for 5 days, wading in standing water up to her neck with dead bodies floating around her. I started talking to her about where I work and the services we have available, in hopes of offering her something in return. She seems enthusiastic about it, as she plans to stay in Austin. Then Karen walks up and I tell her about our classes, and she is very apprehensive. Says "I have 6 or 7 drug felonies...they won't let me in the door." And Renaldo scolds her in a sweet way, saying "Honey, you have GOT to stop letting that be a barrier for you. You need to take the opportunity that is being offered." I tell her that our program does not discriminate, and that she's welcome to be there. She tells me she's frustrated because she can't find work because of her record and the fact that she's pregnant.

And we start talking about, of all things, George Bush (I shit you not!) Ray Anne tells me she hasn't gotten shit from FEMA yet. That the Red Cross has been great about getting her some money, but FEMA hasn't done anything. We talked about counseling services, and how fucked up it was that she was stranded, and Karen starts talking about how George Bush is an asshole because when he was governor, he wrote the law that disallowed people with felony drug convictions from receiving food stamps, and now that he's president, he's made that law universal (I haven't actually fact-checked this, but I am pretty sure that people with felony convictions can't get food stamps in the state of Texas.) She was like "FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES." And I was just like "Shit...you know...I'm pretty politically savvy, and I think I knew about that...but I never *really* thought about how very fucked up that is." She also told me that the housing authority in Austin won't place you in housing if you have a felony drug conviction on your record. Which, if it's true (and I'm pretty sure it is, but I also think there are housing orgs that will hook you up with housing regardless of your record...I'll have to look into it so I can give her information when she calls, although, you know, it seemed like she knew way more about this stuff than I do).

So, by the time my boss arrived, I was telling everyone about the various services that we offer through our program and handing out my business cards to everyone. We all shook hands, and exchanged names. I only had ten dollars (a ten dollar bill) in my wallet, and I had actually said that at the very beginning. I gave the money to Renaldo, since he did most of the work. He immediately busted out his wallet and offered to give half of it to Ray Anne, who refused to take it. I told her that I could definitely try to find a way to help her out somehow if she needed it, and told her to call me. We all shook hands, I told them to call me, wished Karen the best with her baby, my boss followed me home, and that. Was that.

By the way, it's 10:41 PM, and I still haven't heard from the boyfriend. I understand Granny's in the hospital, but last time we spoke I was stranded on the side of the road. Is it wrong for me to think that warrants at least a check-in? ah, fuck it. I'm going to bed.

Ha ha.

September 26, 2005

The work study student for our program just found out how old me and my manager are. His response was:

"No way! I thought you guys were just JOKING when you were calling yourselves "Old Ladies.""

and then, as if he hadn't dug deep enough, added:

"Y'all don't ACT your age."

hahahahaha.

Pedantically Simplify Away, Asfo_Del

September 26, 2005

Living on Less

That's why politicians' hollow schemes to improve education and job training in order to lift large numbers out of poverty can't work: they address individuals and not the entirety of the population. Yes, it may be possible to help a given individual by helping her get a job, but everyone cannot be lifted that way, because good jobs for every person are simply not available.

Weekend.

September 26, 2005

Me and the kids are finally settling back into the groove of being together all weekend, after having endured the month of August and the Whack visitation schedule that had them at their dad's house every weekend. Not that I didn't enjoy the time to myself, but towards the end of August, I started to feel like I wasn't getting any quality time with my children.

This weekend, it all came together. In spite of the fact that Coley spent Saturday night with Papa so Monk and I could go to the show, it just felt like we all got to spend a fairly adequate amount of time together - perhaps partially due to the fact that it's waytoofuckinghot to do anything except sit around the house and complain about how waytoofuckinghot it is outside (I've heard reports that it hit 108 yesterday.)

On Friday, I had promised my kids all week that we would have a day without errands. We hung out in the house all day, playing and watching videos. I spent the time cleaning, listening to the news, playing the Sims2 and flitting about the house. I think the day without errands was good for me, too. After dinner, we went over to the park, and the kiddos played until it got dark & then we went home and watched Pioneer House (or is it Frontier House) together. It was a good, mellow evening.

Saturday, the kids OD'd on Saturday morning cartoon while I got more stuff done around the house. I mowed the lawn, I made my grocery list, I did the dishes again, I folded laundry...and then I brought Coley over to his papa's house so Monk and I could go to the show.

(as a side note, I really wish I would have waited to write about my reaction to the show. I feel like I didn't do a good job writing about it, and now it's too late to go back and fix it because it's already written. Am I a freak, or what?)

Sunday, Monk and I went to church & then picked up Coley for lunch at Dog Almighty, which is becoming our little Sunday ritual. I beat Monk at foosball a couple of times (take THAT, chessboy!) & then we stopped by the store so I could get the ingredients for my soup (A carribbean pepper soup).

By the time we got home, it was well past 2 PM. The boys just played and played and played together while I cooked and cleaned up and read and blogged. They were playing so sweetly, too. I think it really helps Monk to get a night off from Coley. He never SAYS he misses him, but I can just TELL that he does.

Have I mentioned that Monk is becoming more affectionate towards me? Monk used to be the world's snuggliest child, until he hit 4 or 5, and then he insisted that he HATED kisses, and hugs soon followed. I could never figure out (and still don't know) whether it was just a normal phase for him - a sort of move towards independence - or if it had something to do with the divorce, but I really missed the hugs a great deal. Thankfully, Coley is almost OVERLY affectionate, so it has sort of balanced out. Lately, though, Monk doesn't cringe when I hold his hand. He puts his arm around me when we are out walking. Little things. He still hates being kissed, but that's OK.

Around mid-afternoon, I turned on the radio. We caught the latter half of Living On Earth (they were reporting on eating local foods) and all of In Black America & then it was time for the world music shows on KUT. At some point in there, the boys got into an argument, and I was impressed with the way they dealt with each other. There was a bit of carping, but mostly Coley was expressing how he felt and Monk was expressing how he felt and I kind of guided them to a conclusion and helped them to end the discussion when it was clearly time to end it. I figured one or both of them was tired, based on the amount of emotion that bubbled up from a simple mistake & sure enough within the hour Coley climbed into bed with me while I was on the phone, pinched my arm a few times, and crashed.

I love Sunday nights on KUT. They play the best mix of all sorts of music of the world, and it's a nice background for cooking soup & spending time with the kiddos. I remember Sundays growing up listening to American Top 40, and it evokes the same feelings. I don't think the music matters as much as the ritual OF music, if that makes sense. Still, the ritual is made richer by the quality of the music. At one point last year, I attempted to find a Sunday broadcast of the Top 40, and I was so unimpressed with the music that I couldn't bear to expose my kids to it. So, I'm thankful that KUT changed the lineup on Sunday to be almost entirely world music.

Later in the evening, when Coley arose and after Monk and I had played some chess, we turned on The Decemberists so we could have some familiar music to goad us into cleaning the living room. However, the boys weren't done playing, and they were so preoccupied with such cool self-made games and art projects that I couldn't bring myself to force the issue. Coley was playing his usual elaborate "my own version of the lord of the rings version of risk" & Monk was making ephemeralist art, in the form of pictures comprised of poker chips. He made a dolphin ("complete with background, splashes of water, and a seagull, mom.") and a Phoenix. Monk, who claims to hate art, has this totally interesting ability to create these totally symmetrical works of art out of pattern blocks & he is going to be tiling the floor in the back room (well, with a LOT of help). I was a little worried that the fact that the tile pieces won't be evenly shaped might throw him off, but if he can make a dolphin out of poker chips, I think it's a safe bet that he's going to do a good job on the floor.

Right as we finished cleaning up the living room, Pansy stopped by with her kiddos & we unloaded some stuff from her car & chatted a bit over coffee while the kids played. When they left, it was time for bed.

It was such a nice, rhythmic weekend. There were very few conflicts or difficulties the entire time. Everyone had a good time & everyone got along so well. & now I feel totally ready for the rhythm of my week. Monk's going to be starting a new season of "school" with some new materials and different rhythms. I've got some pretty heavy stuff to deal with at work and at home that I feel prepared to deal with now. I feel refreshed. There's a huge pot of soup in the fridge. I'm ready for the week.

And that is what the weekend is all about.

A somewhat frightening realization

September 25, 2005

Scrivener wrote this post! with various links to interviews and information about The Decemberists, including this video, in which Colin Maloy looks almost identical to....Monk's dad. My ex.

I thought I was kidding myself, so I asked Monk to give me his assessment. He was all "I don't know what you are talking about, mom." And then the video started, and he just busted out laughing because there is no denying it. I had to get a second opinion via Pansy, and she did the same thing.

Granted, part of it is the glasses. But my ex also has the same square jaw and utilizes many of the same facial expressions. Portions of the video are actually creepy to me.

But, anyway...it's a cute video, so you should watch it.

Sunday Game Night.

September 25, 2005

While you all were enjoying a relaxing Sunday evening - maybe with the family, maybe alone...

I was getting an ass-beating at chess by my annoyingly precocious 8 year old.

In the middle of the second game (he won the first game in 3 moves*) I yelled out "Yeah? You may be better than me at CHESS...but I am SO MUCH BETTER than you at SLAMWICH!"

He was confused as to why I thought that was so funny. Probably because he has about as much esteem for me as a Slamwich master as I have for him as a Chess Master. Which, in case it's not true, is very very much.

(*If you are thinking "Is she REALLY REALLY bad at chess, or is he REALLY REALLY good"...as much as I want to give a tremendous amount of credit to my egghead son...I really am THAT bad, so there's honestly no telling how good he is. He actually READS BOOKS about chess, and MEMORIZES STRATEGY, so he's WAY ahead of me, there.)

NOT having children is the choice

September 25, 2005

Someone referred me early on in the conversation about parenting in public spaces to this article by Bitch Ph.D. I only just now found the time to go there and read it. Here's an excerpt:

To be fair, the commenter who said that was responding the weak argument that we have a social obligation to take care of children because they are the next generation and will pay for our retirement, run our nursing homes, etc. etc. Again, I say no. We have a social obligation to children because CHILDREN ARE PART OF SOCIETY. As they are young and dependent, the obligations of adults towards them are greater than theirs towards us. But see, they do grow up (if our obligations are fulfilled), and then they take on social responsibilities too, including caring for us when/if we ourselves become dependent. This is a nice thing, but it is not the REASON we should take care of children, it is merely the logical consequence of doing so.

I think I'm done with that conversation now.

I do have one more point to make. While I was hanging laundry, it occurred to me that part of the reason this conversation makes me feel so frustrated and defeated is because the very idea that people without children can dictate how children should behave and how much control parents have over that behavior is so incredibly fucking dismissive of a parent's very real experience in raising children. The only other experiences I have had with people so completely denying and dismissing my (actually fairly well-educated) reality in favor of their perception of how reality (which, by the way, that they have absolutely no, or at least very little, experience with) should be is when I am dealing with any of the other forms of oppression (i.e. racism, sexism, etc.)

What the child-free adults in this discussion don't seem to be able to understand and respect is that parents (who are, I should remind you, by and large, Women) are experts on child-rearing. If you can't respect that very simple reality, I have to wonder where doubt in the validity of that expertise comes from. I have to wonder, and I believe I know the answer. It comes from sexism. It's born of oppression.

Argue away with that...I'm out. Take care.

Seven Things Meme

September 25, 2005

I've been tagged by Cleis...this is the hardest meme ever:

Seven things I plan to do before I die:

1. Raise two sensitive, strong, intelligent, considerate boys into men.
   
2. Write at least one novel
   
3. Hike either the Appalachian Trail or the Continental Divide Trail
   
4. Go live by myself in a cabin in a remote area for at least a month. Well, with my dog.
   
5. Travel cross-country with the kiddos and write a book about it.
   
6. Travel overseas with the kiddos and write a book about it.
   
7. Do both of the above by myself and write a book about it.
   

Seven things I can do:

1. Make a mean pot of soup
   
2. Teach a classroom full of adults from various backgrounds and with a wide array of abilities how to use a computer
   
3. Drive for 12+ hours, only stopping for gas
   
4. Give birth without any pain relief
   
5. Win countless games of dodge ball against 4 7-9 year olds
   
6. Drive cross-country without ever getting lost
   
7. Gosh, this is the hardest one of all...um...OH! I can also get totally lost in a public park in the middle of the fucking city!
   

Seven things I can't do:

1. Play any sort of musical instrument
   
2. Arrive late with any grace at all
   
3. Play poker
   
4. Sit still
   
5. Keep my house clean
   
6. Tan
   
7. Build a house of cards
   

Seven things that attract me to people of the opposite (and same) sex:

1. Self-awareness (including the ability to laugh at oneself)
   
2. Stability
   
3. Humor
   
4. Tenacity
   
5. Patience (which is totally hypocritical, because I have almost none)
   
6. A willingness to change and grow
   
7. Freckles and/or goofy glasses (which might just be the after-effect of last night's show)
   

Seven things I say the most:

1. "fuck" "fucking" "fucked" etc
   
2. "alrighty, kiddos!"
   
3. Various lyrics from Decemberists songs
   
4. "right"
   
5. "Oh, Lordy"
   
6. "You guys, Come ON, now!"
   
7. "I'm all done talking about poop now. Find something else to talk about, please."
   

Seven celebrity crushes:

1. Noam Chomsky
   
2. Ralph Nader
   
3. Howard Zinn
   
4. Colin Meloy
   
5. Brian Kinney (yes, the fictional character)
   
6. Melora Krieger from Rasputina
   
7. Nick Cave
   
8. (bonus Crush) Bill Moyers
   

Seven crush-worthy bloggers (I'm going to stick with strictly people who are not currently on my blogroll):

1. Well, Cleis, of course
   
2. Echidne
   
3. Amanda
   
4. Norbizness
   
5. Bitch Ph.D.
   
6. Shaula
   
7. Lauren
   + all of the people I have crushed on before on my blog.
   

Consider yourself tagged if you're crush-worthy. (The list isn't exhaustive, obviously, so if you know you're crushy-worthy, too, go for it.)

Monk's Big Decemberists Adventure

September 25, 2005

Short version: It was an 8-year old's dream come true. Monk's comment after the show was "Finally *I* got to be in the center of attention for once."

Longer version: Because I'm a freak about being places on time, we arrived 30 minutes before the doors were scheduled to open and about an hour before the doors ACTUALLY opened. I immediately shuttled Monk to the front of the stage because I knew he wasn't going to be able to see anything if we were anywhere else. The whole "kids in public spaces" thing was fresh in my mind, and I was trying not to let it get to me.

Thank Maude for John and his earplugs. Can you believe I didn't even think about them? It has been so long since I have seen a show, I wasn't even thinking about the noise level. Had John not brought them, Monk would not have stayed up front. But he did, and he did.

Monk tolerated the first band, Brothers and Sisters. I thought they were cool. I liked the way the lead singer was using the heels on her shoes as a percussion instrument. They had a sex-kittenish thing going on, but the music was almost electrified folky-countryish. I don't know anything about them, but I enjoyed them a great deal.

Monk was so excited when the Decemberists came out. He was bouncing up and down. He sang along to Leslie Ann Levine and was generally having a great time...

It was such a cool show to take Monk to for his very first show, you know? There was theater and drama and humor and sweetness. I'm so thankful to the band for creating a welcoming environment for my little guy. & I had a great time, too...but there was something about having him there to experience it with me that made it all the more enjoyable. Like I got to enjoy it for myself, and I got to enjoy some of the stuff that I knew HE was enjoying, because of the newness of it all. At one point, Monk RAISED HIS HAND. I think he wanted to ask a question. I kind of laughed...not meaning to make fun of him, but, you know, I thought it was funny that he was raising his hand. Monk got upset with me and started crying a little, but the band started up with The Legionnaire song, which at least prevented a full-out crying jag...and after that song, Mr. Meloy sort of stooped down and started playing a solo introduction to the next song right in front of us, winking at Monk as it became evident that the solo was actually the riff at the beginning of "A Cautionary Song":

The Decemberists - A Cautionary Song

There's a place your mother goes when everybody else is soundly
sleeping
Through the lights of beacon street
And if you listen you can hear her weeping,
She's weeping, cause the gentlemen are calling
And the snow is softly falling on her petticoats.
And she's standing in the harbour
And she's waiting for the sailors in the jolly boat.
See how they approach

With dirty hands and trousers torn they grapple 'til she's safe
within their keeping
A gag is placed between her lips to keep her sorry tongue from
any speaking, or screaming
And they row her out to packets where the sailor's sorry racket
calls for maidenhead
And she's scarce above the gunwales when her clothes fall to a
bundle and she's laid in bed on the upper deck

And so she goes from ship to ship, her ankles clasped, her arms
so rudely pinioned
'Til at last she's satisfied the lost of the marina's teeming
minions, and their opinions

And they tell her not to say a thing to cousin, kindred, kith or
kin or she'll end up dead
And they throw her thirty dollars and return her to the harbour
where she goes to bed, and this is how your fed

So be kind to your mother, though she may seem an awful bother,
and the next time she tries to feed you collard greens,
Remember what she does when you're asleep

Thankfully, Monk hasn't asked me to explain the meaning of that particular song, but Colin Meloy was smiling at Monk and me through the whole song, and when he got to the part that starts "be kind to your mother" - he pointed at Monk, then me. I'm sure Monk was rolling his eyes, but I thought it was adorable & was laughing.

Later...gosh, I can't remember what song it was...Meloy and the guitar player did a faux-drunken dualing guitar thing, and once again Mr. Meloy bent down by Monk and this time handed him his guitar pick and let Monk strum his guitar. Monk had no idea what to do (he's a pretty shy kiddo) and the other audience members were helping him. It was sweet. Monk was absolutely thrilled. I was thrilled. It was very, very sweet. And when Monk was done with his strumming, Meloy offered his hand to Monk, realizing Monk was sort of shy, ended up just grabbing Monk's hand and giving it a good shake. Monk was just delighted. Just....totally delighted.

As was I. I mean, I gushed with Monk all the way to the car (Monk didn't care less about built to spill, so we left right after the Decemberists) and had to call Pansy on the way to Waffle House just to tell her how cool it was. It was so so worth the money I spent just to see my little guy get a bit of the spotlight for a change. He totally needed that, I think. He told me that when he adopts his children (because "I am NOT getting married, mom. But I'll adopt some children.") he's going to tell them all about this night. I have no doubt in my mind that he will.

A reply to Elayne, some more stuff about kids in public places, and then I'm done for now.

September 25, 2005

I'm going to fisk Elayne here. Quite honestly, since Elayne is someone I know, I found a couple of things here actually HURTFUL, so I had to wait before responding because I found myself responding to the hurt with anger.

At any rate, Elayne's comments are blockquoted, mine use the regular margins:

So far nobody's discussing the impact on the children of bringing them into social situations that they're not developmentally or emotionally prepared for. Those kids are screaming for a reason and ignoring that is damaging to the child's upbringing as well as the eardrums of the hapless bystanders. If a child is too young, 'spirited' (or whatever other euphemism you want to use) etc. to handle a certain situation (movie theater, restaurant, etc.) why would you want to put them in that situation and essentially set them up to fail?

While this is true in many cases...there are plenty of situations where I have no choice but to bring my children with me...for any of a number of reasons. One of the things that hangs me up quite frequently is the fact that I have two children - one of whom is developmentally able to handle most situations with little fanfare, the other is still learning. And the key word here is learning. As a parent, I can't just stick a thermometer in my child's ass and determine whether or not it's developmentally appropriate to introduce him to a particular situation. In order to determine the developmental appropriateness, sometimes I just have to do it.

And...OK, maybe I'm not done...because I'm really curious, Elayne...in what situations do you think it's appropriate for me to have my child out in public? I've already talked about movie theaters, and how I'd be willing to give that one to most people except for the fact that the screaming child in a movie theater in my experience is really just shorthand for most people to say "parents shouldn't bring children anywhere." So, tell me straight up - where is it that you deem it's OK for me to bring my children? Keep in mind, now, that I have my children with me about 90% of the time that I'm not at work, and anyplace I cannot bring them, I simply can't go to myself.

Taking a kid into a social situation they can't handle for whatever reason is a losing situation for all involved. The kid doesn't learn the proper social behavior for that situation (simply exposing children to social situations is not the same as socializing them). It erodes the trust the child has in the parent's ability to keep him/her safe and comfortable. It further erodes the child's respect for the parent's authority when inevitably somebody becomes irritated and scolds the parent. The child gets to practice this poor behavior over and over in these social contexts until it becomes deeply ingrained making it very difficult to teach appropriate behavior later on when the child is actually capable of displaying it.

I'm sorry, but this is bullshit, and you don't even know it. If I am out at a restaurant with my four year old, and I respond to his bad behavior every time by removing him from the restaurant...I am only teaching him that if he misbehaves, he will get special attention. The truth is that a parent has to weigh any number of variables before deciding how to react to a child's misbehavior. You, Elayne, are ONE of the variables. Only one. You are correct, though, that it's idiotic to scold a parent for their child's misbehavior. The scolder in these situations has no earthly clue what kinds of parenting decisions have been made prior to the event they are witnessing. They have no idea what kind of a parent this is or what exactly is behind this particular event. Scolding someone for their child's misbehavior teaches children bad social manners. Period.

What I would suggest to you if you feel the absolute need to comment about a child's behavior in public, you address the parent in terms of how it is effecting you. You might sincerely say "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have a headache, and I wish you would try to keep it down." Keep in mind, though, that depending on the age, the development stage of the child, and the type of day this family has been having...your request might either be fulfilled, scoffed at, or laughed at...much as if you were to tell a table full of unruly teenagers or drunk college students the same thing.

Scolding strangers in public is simply bad behavior. And why on earth would you want to model that behavior to a child who, according to you, is already on shaky ground for the future?

Also, if the parent doesn't acknowledge that the behavior is a problem (and blames the victims with the broken eardrums for their intolerance) the child learns that his needs are superior to society at large, something which they're not going to unlearn easily as they become older. I can give you plenty of examples of this in kids of friends I know who are now starting to feel the consequences in their 10 year olds.

Let me explain to you why Monk thinks you are all a bunch of whiners. Because Monk does the same thing. Ever since Cole was born, we have had to remind Monk that Cole is just an infant, a one year old, a two year old, etc. Monk has had to learn that there are certain expectations that can be placed on children, depending on their age...and that the transition from one developmental stage to another is difficult. It is important that I remain consistent, but it's also important that we all show empathy and understanding for the learning process and difficulty inherent in every given stage. It seems to me that you are lumping all children into one category. I don't have any idea what your background in child psychology is, but a 4 year old is still very much under the impression that he is the center of the fucking universe. And unless I fucking slap him around a lot and constantly berate him to knock him down a peg or two, he's going to continue feeling that way until he reaches the next developmental stage...the one where he's actually aware of his place in the universe.

This does not mean that I let him run around like a holy terror all of the time, but it does mean that there are limits to my ability to keep him completely under wraps. And it certainly does not mean that if I am unable to keep him absolutely silent so Elayne can eat her dinner in a public restaurant in perfect peace he will grow up to be a fucking axe murderer. It simply means that I have to keep reinforcing and keep reinforcing and keep reinforcing the standard until one day, lo and behold, he is able to sit still and eat an entire meal without talking about farts.

Saying it's impossible to control a child or I have a wild child, he can't help himself and I can't do anything about it, does a huge disservice to the child who will pay for this later on when age and development level will no longer be an excuse. Parent's HAVE to find a way to teach, guide and get the respect of these children if for nothing else than for their own safety and that of others.

That's what parents DO, Elayne. But it's not instantaneous and, unfortunately, it doesn't happen in a vacuum.

I almost saw a kid get run over by a car right before my eyes because the parents were yakking away with friends while the kid ran full speed ahead down the sidewalk (almost taking me out in the process). The kid started to run into the street, I yelled which got the attention of the parents who then yelled 'NO, come here' in a frantic tone. The boy completely ignored them, ran right in front of a car, horrible screech of brakes, etc.

That has actually happened to me, as well. Scariest fucking thing I've ever encountered. Does it necessarily mean that I'm a bad parent or a bad person? No. It means I'm human and I made a mistake.

When someone rear-ends you in your car because they were daydreaming for a minute and didn't realize you had slammed on their brakes...does it mean they are a bad person or even a bad driver? No...it means they are human, and they made a mistake. It's called an accident for a reason.

As much as I appreciate that you seem to want to attach superhuman powers to parenting, the fact is that parents are not superhumans. We fuck up. I'm sorry when I do, but I will probably do it again sometime. Not only that, but there's this other variable here which is the fact that children are not only human, but they are little humans who don't exactly have all of the laws of physics worked out. And we, as parents, are tasked to keep track of them. This is where the whole "it takes a village" concept comes into play. Good for you for alerting the parents that the child was headed for trouble. It's a shame you can't feel more empathy for someone who probably felt pretty freaked out and awful about it.

Being temporarily 'disabled' (ie, on crutches and in pain) for a couple of months really gave me some insight into the crap disabled and elderly people have to deal with on a daily basis re other people's kids running amok. If my choice is to get knocked over by a kid running wild in the grocery store (and consequently need painful and expensive surgery) or whack them with a crutch to keep myself safe I'm going to whack away and I came very close to having to do it many times.

Elayne, I can't tell you how many times I've been run into and run over by adult human beings. The only difference is that children are smaller and if you hit them with your crutch, they probably can't or won't hit back. Also, it tends to hurt less when children run into you.

And, once again, what kind of a message would you be sending by hitting a child with a crutch? (which, by the way, is actually assault and if you were to do it to my child I would probably have no qualms calling the police and reporting you.)

A child who runs into you has made a mistake. If it was my child, I would sincerely apologize...I would make sure you were OK...and I would make sure the child could see that the consequence of his or her actions was to cause pain to another person. Depending on the age of the child, I would hand over some of these responsibilities to him/her. If it were Coley, he would probably cry just knowing you were in pain. Most kids understand the consequences of their actions. Most kids are able to feel empathy after the fact. The process of getting them to the point where they can anticipate the consequences is a trickier thing THAT TAKES TIME. I know you don't want it to, but in reality, it does. It takes time. Hopefully the child doesn't do too terribly much damage in the interim.

I can guarantee you...hitting a child with a crutch might "teach them a lesson" in the short-term. However, the long-term consequence of hitting or intimidating children to get them to behave is not pretty.

So there are consequences, some of them deadly, to just letting 'kids be kids' unfettered in public spaces.

Yes. I don't remember the exact percentage, but most childhood deaths are caused by household accidents. It sucks, and it's because WE'RE HUMAN, and WE FUCK UP. I, myself, have fucked up. Sometimes on a daily basis.

Just one other point and I'm off to enjoy my day. It's a bit inconsistent to go on about the importance of 'community' in one post and then to say screw you to the non-parents (and parents of well behaved children, who are often just as if not more put out by the misbehavior of other children) I don't care about your need for peace, personal space etc. in public places.

You know...all I can think about in response to this is "fuck you." But, up until now, I never once said "screw you" to anyone. I understand that it's difficult to deal with children who are loud and unruly. I wasn't born with children, you know. I lived 25 years of my life without them, and I go out into public spaces without my children quite often at this phase of my life, as well. Sometimes I get irritated, too. It's not that I think non-parents should fuck off so much as that being a parent out in public with her children is a lot like walking a tightrope. There are all manner of distractions, and you are just trying not to fall off of that damn rope. If I have to stop in the middle and consider how a particular child-rearing challenge is effecting the people around me while it's happening, it makes it that much more difficult to stay on the fucking rope. So, yeah. It's not that I don't give a fuck about the other people surrounding me when I am dealing with a parenting challenge - it's that I'm putting all of my energy into solving the problem, and I can really do without the judgment before, during, and after the fact.

And, too, I'm a parent who spends a great deal of time reading about, discussing, deconstructing, and actively working on my parenting. I can say that if *I* sometimes have difficulty with my children in public, there are others who probably have it way harder. There are others who don't have the time and/or energy to invest in taking care of their children. Do they deserve your judgment and/or wrath? No. They don't deserve mine and they don't deserve yours. I can also say that we still in this country do not have absolute choice when it comes to whether or not we are going to bear children. There are still many people who, for one reason or another, find themselves with children when perhaps they never wanted them and don't care to spend so much time figuring out how to deal with them. Do they deserve your wrath? Do they deserve mine?

No. They don't. They have enough problems without us heaping more bullshit on top of them. It's simply not helpful.

And as far as 'oppression' goes, I think that argument's pretty silly but if you want to go there I think it's pretty oppressing for 70 people in a restaurant (movie theater, etc) to go home stressed out with a screaming migraine because one person refuses to do something as simple and respectful as removing a screeching child.

Ah, the mythical screeching child in the movie theater. It all comes back to this, does it? I have to reiterate my initial question. Let's say I give you the movie theater. Go ahead, you can have it. There. Now movies are silent, and you don't have to worry about your "screaming migraine" problem. Tell me, now...where else are you going to insist that I not bring my children? Restaurants? Airplanes? Public Parks? Carlsbad Caverns?

And I'll end by saying this - children are a part of our society. Whether you want to grant them that or not, it's a reality. It's also a reality that there is a learning curve involved in being a contributing member of society. As a homeschooler, I am aware that children learn best by doing. Lessons are more meaningful when children are out experiencing what they are learning about. I cannot teach my children how to be assets to their community without bringing them into the community.

Not that you asked or anything, but if you truly are interested in solving these problems, one solution would be to actually talk to parents and children when you are experiencing these things. Part of the oppression (you know, the oppression that is all in my imagination) comes from the unspoken standard that must be upheld, and because it is unspoken, it is mutable and arbitrary - so no parent actually fully knows what that standard is. My suggestion is that you actually speak out. If you really think kids are developmentally capable of behaving like adults in public, then treat them like adults and voice your opinion to them when you feel they are misbehaving. If Coley is wiggling too much in a booth in a restaurant, and you are on the other side of the booth - come right on over and say "Hey...you know what? Your wiggling is hindering my enjoyment of my meal. Can you please either stop wiggling or move to another chair?"

That would be one HUGE step in bridging the communication gap. If you were to talk to me or my children respectfully about something that you felt was inconveniencing you - I would be able to return that respect, whether or not I was actually able to do something about the inconvenience. For instance, I might say "You know...I am really sorry, but we have been stuck in a car for 9 hours, and he is kind of wiggly. I'm afraid there's not going to be anything I can do about that right now. Do you think there is a way you can move so you aren't inconvenienced by his movement?"

You see how that goes, Elayne? All I ask is that the grown-ups act like grown-ups. Regardless of how much or little you know about child development, I think we can at least agree on the standards of adult behavior.

I hope you did enjoy your day. I know I enjoyed mine.

On Coley

September 24, 2005

Real quick before I go to bed. Shaula's sweet concern about Coley makes me feel like I need to make it more clear that my posts about his difficult behavior do not at all present the full array of who Coley is as a child or person. You would really have to meet him to understand this, but he's such a neat kiddo. Most of the time he's absolutely adorable, sweet, kind, gentle and all about the loves. He is the huggiest, lovingest child I think I have ever known. And, while I don't think he's pathologically hyperactive...he's definitely a very active, creative, spirited child.

So, I mean, his behavior is fairly normal, but it's not at all convenient. & that's OK. Because children are children...not articles of convenience. The boys...my boys...are human beings whose development towards being fully human is my responsibility as well as the responsibility of the larger community I am grateful to associate myself (and them) with. I learn tons about myself every every every day I share with him and his big brother. I am thankful for that & I think they will both grow up to be wonderful men.

& yes, I have to remind myself of that a LOT these days. So thanks for giving me the opportunity to type it out loud.

Ownership and "Independence"

September 24, 2005

Now you know why she's one of my favorite people in the whole world:

What I have come to realize is that community matters more than property and that interdependence is healthier than independence, which has come to mean something along the lines of isolation and a pathological refusal to accept help. This pathology permeates culture and corporation, where people cannot expect any safety nets of any kind, including health care or pension plans. Remember the fairy tale about the company store that took care of its employees for life? Independence should mean being able to make a choice based on your needs and wants at the time. Like eating because your hungry or talking to a friend because you need company.

Engels on Mamas

September 24, 2005

Just wanted to pull this link up to the main page so everyone can read it.

There's more rolling around in my head about this, I keep trying to write something, but it's still ultimately all too personal to me, and I want to present it a bit more generally. The link above helps. A lot. And it's all tied together, like someone mentioned, with a bunch of stuff I have been posting about/thinking about this week.

So, yeah...thanks to Cheshire for keeping it thoughtful. I know we probably don't see eye-to-eye on some things & that makes it all the more heart-warming that I have somehow managed to reach you. Thank you. I know it sounds incredibly cheesy, but it means a lot to me.

Note to non-parents in the audience...

September 24, 2005

There seems to be a misconception out there that parents are somehow omnipotent and can force children to behave in certain ways in public. Oh, how I wish that were true.

The fact is that my 4 year old can only be contained/constrained within a certain wide spectrum of socially acceptable behavior. I can generally keep him from hitting people, but I certainly can't keep him from making noise without beating him.

And to the person who insists that the two alternatives I have as a parent are A) beating my child so you don't have to know he exists or B) Never leaving the house so you don't have to know he exists...I have to wonder - who is the fucking child here?

Forcing a child (I'd say anywhere from 6 or 7 on down) to behave in public is not something that can be done with 100% consistency and accuracy. Beating a child (or otherwise OPPRESSING THEM through threatening behavior) to keep them in line only POSTPONES their misbehavior to later in life. So the attitude and assumption that I need to revert to what I consider wrong-headed parenting practices in order to satisfy someone's desire for pseudo-tranquility in public spaces is totally fucking counter-productive.

A child under the age of 7 or so is NOT FULLY CAPABLE OF REASON. Look, if you are going to tell me how to parent, please for maude's sake at LEAST read up on child development. And if you are going to insist that you don't have to because you aren't a parent, then at least recognize that out of your complete and total ignorance of the subject you might actually be setting a standard that is unachievable, and then judging me negatively for not achieving that standard.

And because we live in a society in which the bulk of the responsibility for the care of the children falls on the shoulders of women, those unachievable standards you are attempting to force ME to achieve are unachievable standards you are attempting to force ALL WOMEN with children to achieve. THAT is oppression.

By the way, I asked my 8 year old what he thinks about all of this, and he thinks you all are a bunch of whiners.

Perfect Example

September 23, 2005

I'm so excited that Perfect Example by John Porcellino will be re-released by drawn and quarterly next month. Particularly because I missed it the first time around:

Road trips, drunken concerts, and late-night make-out sessions all swirl together in this coming-of-age graphic novel by King Cat cartoonist John Porcellino. Tackling the pain and uncertainty of the pivotal summer before college, Porcellino's sad and beautiful story is drawn in his sincere, minimalist style. Deceptively and charmingly simple, Perfect Example is a collection of Porcellino’s self-published King Cat comics that have won over thousands of readers with its honesty, empathy and sincerity.

If you have never read any of John P's stuff, you really should. He's an excellent artist and a truly wonderful and inspiring person.

Friday Random Ten - (Not at all) Like a Hurricane edition

September 23, 2005

Feministe :Friday Random Ten - The “Well, We Are Stuck With Stupid (For Three More Years)” Edition

We made it through yet another week, people. If it’s Friday somewhere, it’s time for the Friday Random Ten.

Grab yourself a vat of your favorite brew, fire up your mp3 players, load every song on your drive, and list the first ten that tumble out.

1. Fugazi - Shut the Door
2. Polecats - What I like About You (listed as Ramones on my downlad, but I know better)
3. Tribe Called Quest - Steppin' It Up
4. Johnny Cash - Big River
5. Velvet Underground - Lisa Says
6. Rednex - Cotton Eye Joe
7. Tones on Tail - Go!
8. Cibo Matto - Le Pain Perdu
9. Portishead - It Could Be Sweet
10. Tribe Called Quest - Vivrant Thing

(is anyone else delighted that the new version of MT allows you to assign multiple categories right from the beginning?)

I went to the grocery store last night

September 23, 2005

to get, you know, groceries. It was insane there. I'm sure you've heard it from everyone...no bread, no milk, and, yes, we have no bananas.

There was water, though.

It looks l