So How Did Republicans Corner the Market on God?

I don't understand why liberals are considered a bunch of moral-less athiests while the religious right seems to have God on speed dial. In my experience the conservative folk show far fewer Christian values than the progressives. Here are a few examples:

• The whole abortion issue. They will lie in front of a train to save the fetus of a teen drug-addicted mom, but as soon as the baby's born they don't want to pay a dime to help it or its mom.
• Government spending. They piss and moan about the government helping anybody out with anything, but don't bat an eye when trillions of dollars are spent on an objectionable war effort.
• Love one another. My Republican family and friends are great about helping out their next-door neighbor or friend, but as soon as the circle gets too big, they don't care anymore. Hence one family member's response to a World Vision commercial: "and they keep having kids..." Yeah, God would approve of that.

I could go on and on, but those are a few of the things that boggle my mind. I will quote my best friend's husband here: "You know if Jesus were here, he'd be a Democrat." So don't assume because I am a progressive, or liberal, that I don't believe in God, or that I'm not a good Christian, or that I think abortion is a great idea.

I believe in helping others, which is apparently a democratic party value, and, by the way, a Christian one,too.

No More Plastic Bags!

So we all know that plastic bags are wasteful and extremely Earth-unfriendly. That's why all of our supermarkets are now selling $.99 cloth shopping bags for us to use and re-use. We have about 10 or so of them-- totally worth every penny!

I have even gotten into the habit of putting them in the car each time I go grocery shopping. Right along with each child going into the carseat, my cloth shopping bags go into my car. I mean, I made the effort to buy them. I got myself into the habit of bringing them with me. They are the first thing out of my cart at the register, flung way in front of the food so as not to be missed or forgotten. So can someone please tell me why I still come home with plastic shopping bags?

It's those damn cashiers and baggers. I don't know if my cloth bags have "I wish I had a plastic friend" written on them somewhere or what, but unless I am vigilant, the baggers manage to shove at least 3 evil plastic bags into my cloth ones. Oh, they have their excuses. Like my eggs or my meat needs to be in a plastic bag inside my cloth bag. Or they can't fit everything in them. That's bull.

The day before yesterday I went grocery shopping, and I was itching for a fight. I watched that bagger like a proverbial hawk, and, sure enough, she handed me a half-filled cloth bag to put in my cart. I accepted it graciously, then shoved three more things in it to make my point.

But that wasn't hint enough. She "filled" my five cloth bags and then, with obvious glee, swept open a plastic one on her little carousel, ready to fill it with what was left of my groceries. I was fuming. I said to her rather curtly, "I don't want ANY plastic bags." The couple behind me exchanged glances.

Well, come on, people. How many brain cells does it take to form the conclusion that a person bringing her own bags to the grocery store does not want more plastic???

Anyone else have this problem, or is it just me?

Being a Work At Home Mom

I think I may have strayed from the path somewhere. All I have ever wanted was to be a mom, and now I am. I have two fantastic little girls and the good fortune to be able to stay home with them full-time. So why do I find myself always trying to get away from them?

It started with the election. Every morning I would put the TV on for them and catch a few more winks on the couch. Then I would get my coffee and sit at the computer looking at the latest election news. Now that that’s over, the habit has stuck. I sit at my computer for at least an hour every morning with my coffee and breakfast, hoping the kids will leave me alone so I can just wake up.

Now we all have the flu. It’s awful. All I want to do is lay on the couch. And, of course, have my coffee and computer time in the morning. But today my oldest, who sounds like someone replaced her lungs with cotton candy, had a morning meltdown. Crying over nothing. Whining and crying and driving me nuts. Then there’s the baby asking to nurse over and over again, even when I’ve already nursed her. Guys, please! I just want to drink my coffee and get on the computer for crying out loud.

And then I realized it. My kid is sick. This is prime mothering time. So why, instead of comforting and nurturing her, am I pushing her away to get some “me” time? I felt terrible. I made her a hot lemon and honey drink and cuddled in bed with her to read her a story. What a transformation! Even though she had been whining that she didn’t want to be in her bed, she revelled in my attention. The baby did pull me away several times, but K did not even complain. The little of myself that I was able to give her was enough.

My husband has been dropping hints, actually. Since I started writing for this healthcare company in Arizona, a lot of my so-called “free” time is spent writing articles. He sees me trying to squeeze work time in whenever the kids are eating/watching TV/resting/napping. Of course it doesn’t work because there are so many interruptions, which frustrates me. The kids can sense my annoyance. DH is urging me to schedule my work time when my parents or he can watch the kids. It’s good advice. Except there always seems to be a reason why my “work” time gets the shaft: my parents are out of town this week, and again that week, we’re all sick, etc. etc.

Of course, that’s where I have to remind myself of my priorities. My freelance writing career is a luxury right now, and if I can’t manage it while still taking care of my family’s needs, then I shouldn’t be doing it. It’s going to take some organization (uggh!) and discipline (double uggh!) on my part. But I have a uniquely wonderful opportunity to fulfill myself with a part-time career while still being a stay-at-home-mom. I’d be a fool to let that get away because of poor time management.

Threats Against Obama

I just read that Obama is getting more threats against him than any other President-elect. On the one hand, it's surprising because he was elected with such an overwhelming majority, but on the other hand it's not. He is half-black, and a lot of the people who didn't vote for him are the kind of people who tend to stockpile weapons . . .

Of course, I thought by now, most of us whites were over the whole race thing. I'm an educated 35-year-old woman, and the fact that the new President is African-American had absolutely no bearing on my decision to vote for Obama, as I imagine it didn't for a lot of others like me. Even for those who might have reservations about voting for a black man (although I would say to them what one black comedian did-- "he's only half black; vote for the white half!"), decided to vote for him anyway. What I just don't get is-- what is the big deal for whites voting for a black man? If you haven't noticed, many, many of the faces we see on TV, in government, in the movies, at work, at school, at church-- they aren't totally white faces. In fact, you can't even tell from looking at someone what their race is anymore. Heck, I babysit a little girl whose dad is half-black and you would never know it looking at her blue eyes and fair skin. My point: racism is as outdated as teased hair and roller skates.

What are these white Supremecist types afraid of? Don't they realize that they are the poor and middle class that Obama wants to help? The rich Republicans they have been voting for have not had their best interests in mind. To them, the skinheads and family are just another bunch of rabble who can wait (forever) for trickle down economics to reach them. Time to switch sides, guys. Luckily, according to the government, the people making these kinds of threats against Obama are not capable of carrying them out. For everyone's sake, I hope they're right. There will be a special place in Hell for anyone who assassinates this man, who is finally going to rescue America from itself.

seeing yourself in your kids

It's so funny how the things you love and hate about yourself are reflected in your kids.

My 20-month-old is like a little me. She's not even 2, and her favorite book is "The Lorax" (which was my favorite book as a kid). She loves the truffula trees and gives them hugs when they are getting chopped down. Yes, folks, my kids is a tree-hugger. I'm so proud.

She's also such a talker. Since my first didn't start talking till 2 1/2, it's astounding to hear the things that come out of this kid's mouth. Lately, when you tell her something she doesn't want to hear (like "no"), she says in a hurt voice, "don't say that!" or in a belligerent voice, "don't talk to me!" How can I not laugh? This kid is going to run the world. Or at least take down a Thneed factory.

My older daugther is very academic (I was as well). She can spell her name and "Dora" as well as a few other words, but she is stubborn as heck (just like guess-who). I am trying to teach her how to write her name, but she is not interested. She does not want to be taught anything new, she just wants to show off the various things she has already mastered. What kind of a way to live is that?

I think she might be a little bit of a perfectionist-- only wanting to do things she's successful at. That's not so much me, but I do remember HATING to be forced into doing things that did not come naturally. For example, I remember sitting at the table in a booster seat, pouting because my parents wanted me to say "may I be excused" before leaving the table. I just didn't like the sound of it. So proper and contrived. I refused to say it, so I sat and sat.

In the same way, Kira does not like to be told what to do. And she does not like to fail. So if she tries to write her name and can't do it on the first try, she'd rather not do it at all. I'm not so bad as that, but I must admit, if there are things that I really suck at, rather than practice, practice, practice to improve, I'm more likely to go do something I am good at-- like Facebook Scramble or lefthanded cartwheels or checking my email.

While it's gratifying to see your kids taking after you, it's also a bit of a downer because you want your kids to do better than you. If they suffer from your same hang-ups, they may disappoint themselves, the way we have probably disappointed ourselves.

Early Voting Starts in Florida

Today is the official first day of early voting in my battleground state of Florida. If the kids let me (and I remember my voter registration card), I'm going downtown to vote today.

You all know I'm an Obama supporter, but I just watched a PBS documentary on both candidates (totally objective, just the facts, PBS-style), and I have to admit I've gained a lot of respect for John McCain as well. The guy was a POW in Vietnam for 9 years, and he's not the Bush-lover he seems to be. In fact, I suspect that he only voted with Bush so many times in the past 4 years because he was trying to save his political career. At one point (he denies it) he almost went Democrat.

Of course, for me, Obama is still da man. Here's a smart, steady guy who has been an activist from Day One. In fact, Obama went into politics because he couldn't help people enough with his community organizing activities. Can you believe that? Obama is actually running for president because he want to help people! Has our political system ever seen the like since the founding days?

Anyway, I'm pulling hard for Obama, but I am more comforted that if John McCain does get in, he might actually try to do some good things, too. Of course, I'll never vote for John McCain because he is too oil-loving and refuses to make any promises to move away from oil or to do anything about health care (except throw money at us to shut us up). I suspect this is not because he doesn't recognize a problem, but because these folks are funding his campaign, or there are old promises to be maintained, or whatever. That's irrelevant to me. If you can't or won't get us off oil and stand up to the health insurance companies, then you shouldn't be President. Period.

$1 Pregnancy Tests

So I took a pregnancy test yesterday. It's not that I particularly thought that I was pregnant. It's just that I've only had 2 periods in the last, oh, 4 years due to pregnancy and nursing on domperidone (drug to boost milk supply). Plus, I have read the high school brochures about some of the (ahem) less reliable birth control techniques, which we currently employ.

Honestly, I'm lazy about tracking periods anymore. I think my last one was mid-September? And I haven't gotten the obnoxious pre-period zit yet. So it had me... concerned.

I wouldn't have gone out and spent $30 on a pack of First Responses, but someone a long time ago turned me on to the $1 pregnancy tests at the dollar store. It's a simple chemical reaction, so why not? I've had one stored away for several months now, and I pulled it out and peed on it.

Negative.

I was relieved. Very relieved. We're still not sure there's going to be a #3 ever, and even less that it will actually come out of my body (I'd rather adopt, myself).

So why did I have a very small, almost impercebtible sense of disappointment?

Do we as women mourn each of those negative pregnancy tests, even if we aren't trying to get pregnant? Why do we do it?

Is it the loss of an idea? A great adventure that we could have embarked upon, but never packed our bag? Did we subconsciously bond with this potential child, even when he was just a proverbial sparkle in the eye? Maybe it's just a little nostalgia going on-- a little selective memory. Running a hand over a watermelon belly, feeling those sharp little kicks from the inside, dressing your newborn in ridiculously tiny clothes, putting her to your breast...

This must be how the human race survives. Of course, the human race survived long before pregnancy tests. Hmm. I think I'll make myself a salami sandwich with feta cheese and a glass of wine for lunch-- you know, all those things you're not allowed to have when you're pregnant-- while I contemplate that one.