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Monday, March 5, 2018

6 Reasons to Bring Your Kids to Political Events

I'm preparing myself to take my kids to a political caucus tomorrow night. My main purpose in going is to support Jared Polis's bid to gain the nomination for Colorado's governor. Ugh, this sounds so dry for kids, I can barely type it.

I usually don't take my kids anywhere they can't just be kids and I personally have a really tough time getting overstimulated and really cranky in crowds. Loud, lots of people? Oh man...we don't do those either. But I'm going to buck up and take them to this.

Why? It can't be that I look forward to screaming at them to go to the car after the caucus when they're wired on whatever other people handed them and overtired when it's past their bedtimes. Nope. It's because it's important.

6 Reasons to Bring Your Kids to Political Events

1. It spurs great substantive conversation. 

I took my kids to protest the Muslim ban with a friend who is a lawyer. An immigration lawyer. They learned a lot that day about the people who care for their friends from other countries. They learned about people in their lives who are immigrants.

On the way to the Women's March, we had conversations about the wage gap and the lack of women in leadership. We talked about Black Lives Matter and the police violence problem in black communities they're familiar with like St. Louis.

They want to jump to how bad our president is, but I want them to understand our world in greater complexity. I want them to ask why black people get shot. And their response to these issues sometimes reminds me of what's right. Like when my son lead the crowds in Show me what democracy looks like chants at the Women's march and when my five year old said "what do you mean, the president thinks you can touch people's privates?" Their reaction was so simple and pure. It deepened my convictions.

2. They see me care deeply about something and DO something about it.

My kids know that I care about their education. I ask about what they're learning and support activities that teach things. I teach them math and piano. They see me do something about their education. But they're not the whole world.

They need to see that I care about other things too and that I DO something about the things that matter to me like gun control and police violence.

3. They see other people care and argue and participate in the process.

Ideas don't happen in a vacuum and they aren't just happening in our household. Sure we talk about all kinds of stuff at home, but so do other families. So do elderly people. So do 18-year-olds. And ocassionally, we get together in a building and have discussions with strangers about these things. Sometimes one of these strangers teaches me something new. Sometimes another person changes my mind. It's a valuable process and they get to see it and interact with it in person/

4. They, CHILDREN, are seen.

It's important that we not just stand at rallies and conventions with the idea of "the world our children will inherit" but to see them in the flesh before us. It's important as we talk about gun violence to see that there are children listening. We can communicate with our actions how important they are. We need to see them when we talk about the environment to be reminded of the repercussions of our actions and how those impacts last and WHO they last for.

5. They can be heard.

Most of my friends are other parents. They're used to talking with their own kids and hearing from kids about what matters to them and what they think and what they're learning and doing. But for other adults who no longer have kids in their home or never did, they need reminding and they often like to hear and think about things from a kids' perspective. This is a lovely chance for my kids to speak up about what matters to them.

6. They become Active Citizens.

They will learn to use their ears and their processes to form opinions and platforms. They will learn that other people care about what matters and have hope and take action. They will have the idea planted that you take information forth and VOTE and ACT as they become adults. I'm raising citizens and they'll actively participate.
And isn't that my job as a mom? I think so.

Friday, January 19, 2018

The Ministry of Butts

My kids love Harry Potter. And I mean, love. They've gotten to a familial level of love. I knew it when I heard Gomez say he would take seriously "The Ministry of Butts and Defense Against the Dark Farts."

Because when you reach the potty talk level of familiarity, that's when you've gotten all the way to my kids' core.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

An empty gift wrapped box

I listened to my son tell me he'd seen a video where a family wrapped an empty box because they couldn't afford presents. He was worried that would be us this year. His worries are not without basis. The credit cards are maxed with my surgery and awaiting reimbursement from insurance. There's a deductible that won't be reimbursed. There have been so, so many unexpected expenses this year. So there's just a lot we have to say no to. And that brings me shame at first if I'm honest.

No, you can't go ice skating.
No, we can't order from the fundraiser.
No, we can't go out to breakfast.
No, you can't have fill-in-the-blank.

And the shame is there. I feel embarrassed by all the things we can't do.

But then I think of all the memoirs I've read about people with tenacity and I know, in those stories, there were lean times. At lean times like these, the protagonist digs in. She saves for what's needed, does what's needed. The people in her life and the goal are what matter. She stays focused on those things, and is on top eventually.

I'm already on top. My kids have a great life. We talked about that. They will get to ski and ride bikes and swim. They have friends and family. We can go to the grocery store and buy any kind of fruit we want, any grain, any meat. I told him that 100 years ago, a Christmas orange was a real treat. We can, on the spot, listen to any song we want. I couldn't do that when I was a kid. It's a great time to be a human being.

In case you're worried, there will be presents. I bought a few things before any of this and I've got tricks up my sleeve. I'll pull quarters from all over and tape them to a roll of paper and take them to a pinball machine. They'll get presents from grandparents and it'll all be more than enough.

So I also told him not to worry, that there would be plenty of presents but that even if someday there weren't presents, we'd still have an awesome Christmas. I told him, we have all the important things.

And we really do. We have great people and love and health and a beautiful place to live.

It is Colorado gives day. This year, I can't donate. Maybe you can't either and that's ok. But if you can, there are women who are not safe, who need a place, who need help. There are people who don't have$50 for paying for stocking stuffers and there are those who do.

Consider donating

https://app.etapestry.com/hosted/AdvocatesforVictimsofAssau/OnlineDonation.html

Thursday, November 2, 2017

My Own Kooky Mom

My mom moved to Colorado to be closer when I had my first baby. She moved here to help take care of him in time for my husband and I to go back to work. She retired in order to do this and loved her career as a veterinarian. I thought she'd keep working some part time but in the end, she decided she was ready to let her career go.

Except, she still holds on as a kooky animal person. She has 2 dogs, 2 cats, and 7 chickens. She has had as many as 9 chickens. Having a cluck of chickens isn't that odd, it's more the way she has hers.

When one of her chickens was attacked by a dog, she ran into the yard upset with Scarlet O'Hara-like intensity.

via GIPHY

The chicken was terribly wounded. But my mother did not give up. Instead, she slept with the chicken inside her shirt with a water bottle.

Did I mention the chicken had a broken neck?

Well, it healed. Crooked.

The chicken's name is Sandy. But I call her Gobbles.
via GIPHY

My mom does not appreciate my naming her beloved saved chicken Gobbles.

Sandy/Gobbles has been the best egg producer of the cluck. But the other bitches are jealous. They peck at her.

My mother is always upset at the injustice of the other chickens pecking at Gobbles. She rushes to her defense, swoops her up in her arms and kisses her. I'm not kidding.

My mother's church, a progressive Lutheran church filled with retirees, does a blessing of the animals every year. This year, my mother gave Gobbles a bath and brought her to church.

She just stopped by my house to tell me that one, she'd lost her phone which is why she just stopped by instead of calling, and two, Sandy/Gobbles is sick, her beak is hurt. She thinks the other chickens pecked it. Gobbles isn't eating. My mother is very upset about this. I want to be sympathetic but I just keep looking at her and going, "it's a chicken."

Meanwhile my mom still brings me eggs even though I'm a heartless asshole. She's gone home to forcefeed Gobbles in hopes that she returns to health.

If you think I'm weird, I'm just saying, I came by it honestly.

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

Insecure Writers Support Group

I just joined a group called Insecure Writers Support Group. We're supposed to post monthly about writing. I don't write much about writing, in part because I find that loop a little loony-making. Writing about writing aboutwritingaboutwriting. And in part because I find it a vanity exercise that writers seem to think that the entire world is so interested in the life of writers when, in truth, I find it a trope. So many other professions are far more interesting to me.

But I need to talk about insecurity. I'm driven to be honest and writing and parenting and insecurity all play into one another in my daily life.

Lately, I've had parenting moments where I felt like I've finally gotten it right. Where we've finally conquered my yelling problem, their compliance problem, and we're about to skate off into perfect family land. And isn't it lovely there? I can see it out of the corner of my eye.

I'm a successful writer there. I'm giving piano lessons to my seven year old. My five year old is reading. We laugh like mad while skiing on the weekends.

And truly things are good. But insecurity is very real and it crops up on a daily basis for me and I suspect for most everyone.

I had a bad moment the other day with the kids on the way to shuffle kids around so I could go support a rape victim at trial. I felt really bad and confessed my insecurity to my friend who was going with me. I was in the wrong with the kids. Just when I thought I had it all down. Lunches packed. Everyone dressed, teeth brushed, nails clipped, in the car, dinner in a crockpot cooking. I was just about to win the game of life for that day.

But because I was right there with my friend and confessed my screw up, we commiserated and I moved on. When my son was upset about it later in the day, it was easier for me to be the adult and not let guilt and my own feelings run the show. It helped to admit my minor struggle.

And I need to do the same with writing. I need to admit that on a near daily basis, I hide that I'm a writer because my work doesn't pay our bills. I don't proudly announce what I do often because I'm embarassed at my lack of financial success at it to this point.

I'm currently taking a break from my longer writing projects in order to focus on writing related things that seem more likely to bring in actual dollars to our home and which will then finance marketing and advertising that will help my books make money. I'm working on some of the more businessy things like courting reviewers.

None of these are the sexy, splashy, life-of-a-writer things I thought of when I read John Irving and thought if I just wrote a good book, I could running and figure out how to write more books. But they're what I'm doing.

We are scraping by on our bills so that I can keep at this thing. I'm committed. I've gotten good reviews in this week. But I feel insecure in writing sometimes. And if I fess up to that happening, I can be the adult who lets it pass, says it's okay to move on, and gets back to work.

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Count by 10s

My four-year-old, Gomez, told my seven-year-old, Mars, that he was smarter.
Mars: No you're not.
Gomez: Yes, I am.
Mars: If you're so smart, count ten times by ten.
Gomez: Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten

I'd say he won that round.

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Why Standing to Pee is Overrated

My whole life, everyone's said how amazing it is to be male and the main advantage seems to be standing to pee. Especially in the woods. And I'll grant you that I have peed in the woods on skis and it did seem like it would be easier if I hadn't needed to squat to do it. But I worked it out. I did not pee down the hill while sliding. I got it done, stood up, pulled my pants up, and skied down the run.

Before having boys, I had no idea how often they pee on themselves. But the main drawback? Males piss on themselves. Often. I do not normally pee on myself and couldn't really tell you the last time that happened. But boys? All. the. time.

Case in point. Over the course of the last 12 hours, we've had three incidents of accidentally getting pee on pants. Not peeing in their pants. No. It seems to be an issue of unpredictable spraying from the penis. I had no idea how unreliable a hose those things are.

At 1:00 AM my seven year old got up to pee and got it on his pants. He woke me up. I told him to change jammies. I was too groggy to realize he hadn't actually peed in his bed so went with him to the extra bedroom to sleep.
At 2:00 AM my four year old sensed he was missing out on snuggles and found us. I slept sandwiched between the two of them who were keen on pressing against me as firmly as possible. And the cat was the icing on top. I was very loved.
At 7:00 AM my four year old emptied his bladder for the morning but his wild penis hose took a spin for his pants so he changed and that was handled.
Then at 7:40, when we were supposed to be walking out the door, it happened to the fully dressed seven year old AGAIN. So he changed again.

I haven't examined the floor. I clean it about every three days and there's always pee there.

My take on it?
Screw standing up to pee. It's overrated. I'll take cleanliness.