So we’re okay, we’re fine…

Yesterday was our 7th anniversary. And we got into a fight, which we never do…

Ava had a friend’s birthday party to go to. Completley forgot about it. I mentioned it to John in the morning, after which I took Ava and Emma to Quaker meeting.

When I got home and mentioned it again, it was clear that it had gone in one ear and out the other because John became all huffy about the “last minute” plan. And the party was in Rogers Park, about 45 minutes away on the El. And I got to listen to all sorts of “Why do I get volunteered to take her to the party? Why don’t I have a say in these things? Why don’t you do it?” To which I said. “Because I go to the PTA meetings and volunteer in the school and walk Ava to and from school everyday and help her with her homework. And all you have to do is hop on the train, drop her off at a friends house, and walk two blocks to your friends house, have a couple beers, and walk back a couple of hours later. Woopteedoo. So hard. You lost the choice to participate in your kids life when you chose to have them and become a father.” It is a serious mistake to try and one-up me on the whole child-caring competition. And then he said, “Oh, by the way, happy anniversary.” Gee, don’t say it like you mean it or anything. (Also, I am pretty sure there were a few swear words thrown about.)

But they did go. And he came home in a good mood and everything was well. And we made dinner together and I went to knitting night and drank wine and talked about education and was so glad for the group of friends I have found here. Except that we never did say happy anniversary like we meant it.

And this morning it was -15 with the windchill. John called to warn me about the weather and icy roads and sidewalks. he also mentioned that he had forgotton to take our stroller out of the van. I tried to call some of Ava’s classmates to see if she could bum a ride, but no one answered so we bundled up and headed out. Eleanor was in her snowsuit with the footies and I plopped her into her old, crappy stroller. Well, the rear wheel nearly snapped off once any weight was placed on it. I seriously considered taking everyone back upstairs and calling Ava in sick, but it was a field trip day. So… back upstairs to get Eleanor’s boots and kid leash. Now we are sooo late. Walking at a toddler’s pace for 3 very icy blocks also makes you sooo late. When I came home, I sent John the following email.

I am mad mad mad at you. I think the mei tei is still in the car. And the white stroller is broken. I don’t even know how you used it yesterday. The back wheel is two seconds from snapping right off. So I got to walk Ava to school at Eleanor’s pace and my shoulders are killing me from the Maya wrap. Ava and Eleanor both fell on the way to school. Don’t get all defensive either. I know I have noooo right to be mad at you, but I have to be mad at somebody for my cruddy cruddy luck today. ARRRRRRRRRRRRGH.

To which he was very sweet and replied without his usual sarcasm:

I am very sorry about the situation.  I noticed the wheel was is bad shape yesterday when I came home.  I didn’t look closely at it though.  I fully expect you to take it all out on me.

And I said:

Thank you. Perhaps I will send you to bed without supper.

I am just glad I noticed the wheel before we left or we would have had to come back for the backpack. Plus I had Eleanor in her snowsuit with no boots on.

So we are fine. Of course, we are… we are always fine but I hate arguing with him especially about stupid stuff.

Oh, and I am out of diapers and Eleanor is peeing all over the damn place.

 

Emma’s Dream

There was a boy. He ate a box. The box was a stick monster. And then a monster ate the boy. And then the  boogie man ate the monster. And an alien ate the boogie man. And a dinosaur ate the alien! But God ate the dinosaur. And he took the box out of the boy. The boy came back to life and said he was sorry.

 

I haz a super power

I make babies.

Okay, okay. It’s not really a super power. But it makes my OB awfully paranoid.

I had my annual girlie check up in October. Helena was a few months old and the ol’ birth control talk came up.

What were we using?

Um… (awkward silence)… breastfeeding?

You’ve never seen a doctor’s eyes grow so wide so quickly.

Breastfeeding? You know there is no guarantee with that, right? RIGHT? You need to be using condoms!

I started laughing so hard.

A) No. Just… no.

B) I do not care to get pregnant right now, but much worse things could happen.

Actually, when she heard me say that a fifth child wouldn’t kill me, I thought her head was going to start spinning. You’d think that as a doctor she would have heard more shocking things than “I like making babies” in her professional experience, but maybe not?

I mentioned wanting an IUD. We really aren’t ready to make permanent decisions right now but I didn’t really want to be on the pill either… She said she’d start filing the insurance paperwork and yadda yadda…

Before I left she reminded that we need to be using condoms. To make her feel better, I agreed. In reality, see point A above.

Here we are today. Still no word on the IUD. John had an appointment with her tonight. (Don’t get any funny ideas. She’s a family doc, too.) I decided to try and sneak in and ask for a prescription for the pill.

You’d think I’d have been the one relieved to hear that my pee test came back negative but it was hardly a shock to me. (Duh… I know when I am knocked up and when I’m not.) I am pretty sure I felt her sigh in the  next room when she pulled the stick out of the pee cup.

And she was hilariously eager to write me that scrip.

As I was leaving she reminded me, You don’t have to wait until Sunday to take the first pill, you know. You can take it tonight. You should just start tonight! (Oh, noes! I might get pregnant if I wait two whole days!)

Fertility. You’d think it was contagious.

 

Stolen

From Jen.

Put your music player on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first song is the title.

It was our third time in New York

Gonna get back to basics

And if I’m wasting my time

If I close my eyes, I can almost hear my mother

You come out at night

Oh, my lover don’t you know it’s alright you can love her

When sky blue gets dark enough

I’ve got everything I need

First off, here’s what you’ll do to me

I see a dog star divin’ at his magic, snatchin’

That there, that’s not me

Stop my flight to fight and die

Where are you off to with that head of yours?

We do it cheap hide our money in a heap

Won’t you look up at the skyline?

You can bump and grind.

The light came throught the window.

Blind date with a chancer.

I am the captain and I have been told

Should you go looking for a testament to youth in verse

Matthew bring in your fishing nets.

(The Tragically Hip, Counting Crows, The White Stripes, Neil Diamond, Sarah McLachlan, PJ Harvey, John Mayer, Fountains of Wayne, Sloan, Sonic Youth, Radiohead, The Cure, Foo Fighters, MIA, Ben Folds Five, Violent Femmes, Leonard Cohen, Pavement, Dar Williams, The New Pornographers, Tori Amos)

Totally fun in a pointless and nonsensical way!!! I think Thordora just lost all respect for me.

 

Working things out

Adventures in Chi-Town are going well. As we speak, I am watching  the snow pouring down and swirl as the wind sweeps the tops of the brick 3-flats lining our street. Streams of walkers bundled in winter caps with long colorful scarves wrapped around their necks and faces are heading to the El stop behind our apartment. In 20 minutes, I am going to bundle the girls’ in their winter coats and boots and hats and mittens and scarves, wrap Helena in her mei-tei and zip her up under John’s ski jacket, which I hijack on frosty mornings, and push our way to Ava’s school. It’s not a yurt in the middle of 80 acres in the Upper Penninsula, but I do enjoy it here.

Unfortunately, renting prohibits my chicken ownership but if we ever decide to buy something here (an event I doubt will happen, honestly) I will have my little flock of hens in my backyard. I have scouted out a community garden, though. And if nothing else, there is always the possibility of parking our van in the street in the summer time and using our parking spot for container gardens.

I have met more women and made more potentially true friends here than I did in my ten years in Michigan. Two words: Meet Up. (.com) Moms who know how to thrift shop and sew and knit and cloth diaper. Rock on.

The only thing I have really and truly missed, besides my family, is my Quaker meeting. I really miss it. I have tried to make other churches here work for me. Progressive feminist-leaning, gay-welcoming churches but I just don’t feel comfortable there. After two years of worshiping silently, listening and sometimes hearing, I can’t stand being preached to, even from well-meaning church leaders.

When I first began attending meeting, I was truly intimidated. It is a huge responsibility to find one’s own spirtual path without the heavy guiding hand of the Priest. The transition from Roman Catholic to Quaker was no small thing. But so much of what I had intiuitively believed all of my life was counter to the Catholic tradition. A Priest would tell me that I wasn’t listening to God, that I was being swayed by the world. But the truth is that the entire time I was indeed listening. If I were in a Bible-quoting contest I would probably lose. But God didn’t stop speaking to people 2000 years ago. Ethics and values do not remain frozen. They certainly changed between the time of Moses and Jesus if you believe that the Bible is true.

I’ve never believed that Jesus is God. A very good man, yes. Holy? Perhaps. But not the divine presence that I feel when I meditate. So all of the gospel reading, the praying to Jesus… I just don’t have it in me. I don’t think that it is wrong, mind you. But not true, or not true for me. Even the word God is difficult for me to say without the risk of misinterpretation. I use the word because other people understand it, but for me God is so much bigger and so different than what is usually meant when speaking of God. It is too gendered, too authoritative, too judgmental, too unchanging, too stubborn.

Heaven and Hell? No. It’s a lovely thing to think about… being rewarded for our good deeds, eternal life. Who doesn’t want that? But I don’t think that they exist, at least not in the sense that my Catholic family believes. If there is something, I assume it is more of a peaceful collective conciousness and it is the same for us all regardless of our earthly doings. Nothing involving free will or activity on our part. If that were the case, what would be the point? Isn’t God omnipotent? If so, and if Heaven and Hell is a replica of Earth with the good and bad seperated, why not cut to the chase and go right to the after-life? And besides, I believe that life on Earth matters. Doing what is right and just should not be a means to an end. It is the end.

I have no idea why I felt the need to spew this onto my blog. I know that it matters to no one but myself. Bottom line: I need to stop being lazy, get on the El, and attend the Meeting this weekend. I need that community.

 

All ya need is love.

Baby’s first protest… she had a great time!

 

I got nothin’

Blue Milk directed me to this post at Hoyden About Town regarding the publicity over Salma Hayek breastfeeding her (wait for it….) 13-MONTH OLD!!!! *gasp!!!*

I have nothing much to add to Lauredhel’s comments so go read them.

I will say that the comments she cites made me burst into tears. I cannot believe that people actually think that way about a mother nourishing her baby. At 13 months they are STILL BABIES. It also made me want to invest in a wardrobe full of turtlenecks. My breasts do not belong to you, World, and you may not have them. You may not look at them, demand that they please you, or tell me that I cannot use them for the manner in which they were intended.

These men have mothers and sisters and wives and daughters and here they are leering over Hayek and making lewd comments about wanting to be nursed. I suppose these are the same men that go to strip clubs but would never marry a stripper or want their daughter to become one, right? It’s not funny.

 

A mostly nice weekend.

My in-laws came to visit on Thursday and are now on the Amtrak train back to Michigan. Does that sound like torture? It wasn’t! My in-laws are very kind, non-invasive people. And unlike so many mother-in-laws, mine lacks passive-aggressiveness.

Thursday night we patronized the local German restaurant. Awesome beer selection, of course, and delicious potato dumplings. (Not that I really ate any since Ava stole all of mine.) On Friday, we went the the Museum of Science and Industry because Ava had received 3 free passes just for showing up to school on the first day. (Gah, I know. Pathetic.) We only explored half of the museum (at most) but four hours was enough. The kids had a blast, of course. Especially the Idea Factory for kids 10 and under. I have to say that the Farm Tech display is horrifying. The way that they normalize factory farming of animals and glorify corn reeks of corporate sponsorship of the Monsato/ ConAgra/ Kraft foods variety.

Saturday was a football-watching, beer-drinking, Chicago-style-hot-dog-eating, park-visiting kind of day. For me, it was also the first foray into Christmas shopping. Damn, my neighborhood is awesome to shop in! I picked up some chapstick and tom’s toothpaste for kids at the apothecary and some new shoes, mittens, and a hat at Payless. Then I went to some of the little independent shops (here, here, and here) and bought each of the 3 big girls a little Ugly Doll. Ava will also be receiving a new lunch box and a duck alarm clock. And for me, some yarn and needles for the mama knitting party I went to last night. SO FUN! Knitting with other moms that drink wine and swear while attachment parenting and cloth diapering! Holy shit, who knew there were so many of us out there!!! I brought Helena with me and she spent the evening flirting with Rocky, who is just a week or so younger than she. (I’m sorry, Jen. I know I promised her to Chico, but she’s just not ready for a commitment.)

So, why the mostly? Because I wish football would die a miserably slow and brutal death. Yesterday we went to the Field Museum. We had the free pass from the library. We had a big discussion about how to get there. It was bitter cold and John didn’t want to walk from the El to the museum (about 3 city blocks). That would mean two trains and a bus. With 4 kids. NIGHTMARE. So I suggested we drive. With 8 of us, it was just as cheap to pay to park as it is to take the El and then transfer twice. No big deal, right? Yeah…

There was a home game at Soldier Field, next to the museum and the MUSEUM parking lot was for those with special tickets and $45 to tailgate. As usual, sports trump culture. So we had to drive to downtown, park in a garage ($25 instead of the $15 it would have cost on normal day at the museum), and take the free shuttle. And then we had to walk all the way around the monstrous stadium to get to the Field. And… since I was planning on walking 5 minutes tops, I didn’t have Helena in her warmest suit or a blanket. I was fucking pissed. If people want to waste their time and money watching a bunch of thugs wrestle over a flap of pig skin, whatever. But it should not inconvenience the rest of the city. I have always hated that sport. It started because I could never get onto campus to study on Saturdays thanks to MSU football and the revelers left their garbage everywhere. Yesterday did not improve my opinion.

The museum was awesome. I love the Field. Two trips so far, and we still have a whole floor left to explore. The Ancient Americas exhibit? ROCKS. I could have spent hours in that section.

But, hey, I knitted!

 

I seriously need to stop watching the news, reading blogs and message boards, and looking at any pictures related to Barack Obama. When am I going to stop getting all teary just thinking about this man leading our country? But before I go media-free for the weekend, here’s an awesome slideshow of Obama on election night.

 

Why I Will Never Again Consider Voting Republican

Full disclosure: I never really did consider it.

But in 2000, when McCain was actually a moderate, which is pretty mavericky for a Republican, I liked the guy. I liked Gore, too, but McCain was persuasive and for a brief moment I was torn. But then… Bush took the Republican nomination and any indecision on my part was lost. I am still pissed at all of the citizens who voted for Nader. The world would be a different place right now. It’s bad enough to not vote, to stand idly by and watch someone get hit by a bus. It’s something else to willfully throw a person under the bus yourself. Nader-voters gleefully threw Gore, the country, and the world under the bus and we have all suffered for it.

In that spirit, I cast my vote for Kerry in 2004. Not because I liked the guy. He’s okay but he certainly wasn’t my first choice for president. The lesser of two evils? Yes, he was that.

But Obama? Yes, I truly, sincerely, with all of heart and soul, wanted him to be the next president. I believed every word that he has said throughout the presidential campaign. This former die-hard Hillary supporter is now grateful that others disagreed with her and elected Obama in the primaries. He will make a better president than Clinton would have, although I think she would have been great also. Actually, I think I fell in love with him just a little bit.

Did you watch his acceptance speech last night? The man is destined for greatness. Whenever I watch MLK speeches,  I choke up. Both with convictions so strong, words so elequent… I felt like I was watching his spirit reborn in Obama. And not just because they are both black but because of how strongly they both believe that all things are possible and in their sincere appeal to all that is good in us as human beings. That in their cores, they want to see a true united states. A united world.

Contrarily, the Republican campaign has appealed to all that is base in our society. Our fear of the “gay agenda.” Fear of gender equality and reproductive rights. Fear of affirmative action. And while the McCain campaign never overtly said so, and while I believe that McCain himself does respect Obama, his supporters clearly feared the rise of a black man to the presidency. Fear of the other. Fear fear fear. And what is to be afraid of? While the majority of us are celebrating diversity, equality, an inclusive society built on love, tolerance, and peace, there is signifigant percentage of our nation that is desperate to cling to the old ways, the status quo. They believe a woman has no authority over her body, that being gay is both a choice and a sin, and that non-whites are inherantly inferior. The Republican party caters to that crowd.

I know that there are people who vote Republican for fiscal reasons. But I would encourage those people to reconsider. Joe the Plumber, for instance. Joe the Plumber who is solidly middle class and always will be. Joe the Plumber who doesn’t think that people making over 250K should be in a higher tax bracket because (in his words) they work harder and they have earned it.

I ask you, Do they and have they? Do they work harder than the people working two minimum wage jobs and who still cannot pay their bills? Who are not provided health insurance or sick days? The people who haul your garbage, wash the dishes at the restaurants you patronize (and which they themselves cannot afford to visit), stand on their feet all day putting hamburgers together or checking out groceries… they don’t work as hard as tax attorneys and college professors and CEOs? Whose subjective ideas of “hard work” are we using to measure? And is it even possible to earn, in the true sense of that word, the wealth that 2% of this coutnry has amassed? These questions are not rhetorical… I would really like to know.

Why are “fiscal conservatives” so happy to shell out tax breaks to Wal-Mart and so hesitant to support a national health insurance? Who do they really think pays for those low-wage employees health care when they are forced to abuse emergency medicine and denied preventative care? Why did they continue to support a presidency that took our national surplus, squandered it to fight an endless and unjustified war, and left us with a crippling national debt? That is NOT conservative. The party of “small government”? Isn’t that the same party that supported the Patriot Act and constitutional ammendments prohibiting abortion and gay marriage? Again, can we define small? From where I stand, it means as little regulation as possible in the markets and corporate world and as much micromanaging of a citizen’s personal life as possible.

You are who you associate with… an old adage I tell my children all of the time. And from now on, no matter how “moderate” the Republican candidate is… I will not vote for them. Ever. I will never again consider voting for someone who associates with a hateful, fear-mongering party that insists on bringing out the worst in our people.