Poetry? Really?

Love - I give it to you

Sharing it

Sprinkling it on you, each of you

Like a shimmer

I will toss it to you

if you'd like

or pass it gently

I want to hand it to you, make you take it

but that takes away from the gift

A want you to feel

this love that I feel

maybe the tip of your nose

or tingling on your fingertips

a taste of the freshness.

Flowery 

Twirling ribbons 

blue, purple, pink, silken

wrapping around you

Careful, not too tight

slightest embrace

Flittering love

 

Respect

It is apparently Don't Respect People week and I have missed the notice.  It is fine, really, as I would like to think I'd have a hard time intentionally treating poorly.  It has been a hard week though.  I am glad it is Thursday.

I must admit that I'm struggling this week.  While I don't shut up when I have something to say, I fail miserably of thinking of something to say when someone is being rude.  I was raised by one of the nicest people I know.  Nice to a fault.  Sacrifice nice.  If she is miffed (the most anger to which she will admit) she suggests writing a polite note.  Frankly that isn't doing it for me this week.

It is easy to cop out and say that it is all society's fault.  And I really try to avoid such blanket statements.  But it is certainly in  my culture of origin to grin and take it rather than address something.  To excuse the person cognitively and attempt to just forget about it.  "Surely he didn't mean to, he's just having a bad day."  I suppose it serves a purpose for us as well.  We certainly are 'better than everyone' since we can look past all the hurt that a person has caused.  Add in the bonus of being able to avoid conflict and I can understand the appeal. 

I can't look past hurt.  I can understand it, love the person anyhow, forgive easily.  Forgetting the hurt isn't as easy.  I am not sure any of us can do that, as much as we'd like to be able to.  Pain is still there.  Pain is cumulative.  Even if it doesn't come from one source, the pain keeps building and building.  People must be aware of this.  

I'll take it one step further - we need to be aware of this, aware that what we say or do has consequences.  Words can hurt.  

So what do we do?  Someone says something that has a sting, what do we do about it?  I am definitely wrestling with this lately.  However I think the only way to be kind to ourselves is to bring it up.  Bring it up with kindness and compassion, but bring it up.  Why?  Because while we want to treat others with kindness, we often forget to treat ourselves with that same kindness.  Surely we deserve it too.  

Update on yesterday's blog: no word from the minister yet.  It is my plan to call them again today and set an appointment.  I do not feel comfortable letting this one go.

Christian Love unless.....

Yesterday I took the kids to play at a privately owned park.  A larger church owns the playground and allows children from the neighborhood play there as long as they are supervised.  We have gone there several times - it is a block from our house, there is a separate area for small kids, the church folk there have been friendly and welcoming.

When we arrived yesterday there were some little kids playing and a few church folk watching them.  Every single time K ran toward them, the workers shooed their kids away.  This happened for about 10 minutes.  I was puzzled but thought that they were protecting K in some way.  Finally a girl approached me and asked me if she could gently push K in the swing while I was nearby.  I told her yes.  Then IT happened.  The worker told me that the kids aren't allowed to play with "People Like Us."

There was the moment of pure Mama Bear rage.  I don't care who you think you are, don't think of my kid as one of Them.  Then it passed.  I thought "maybe it is a liability thing" or "maybe I heard her wrong."  The more I watched these workers though, the more I realized that they were prejudiced against people that came and played at the park. 

We live in a poor,  culturally diverse area.  I have seen the people that attend this church.  Based on the cars the congregants drive and what I've seen while visiting the church, the attendees don't match the demographics of the people that live in this area.  But isn't that why they have the playground - as a service to the community?  There is another large church here (also not representative of our area) and they have locked their playgrounds to prevent "People Like Us" from using it.  Their message is clear, and it makes me furious, but at least it is not being said in front of my children.  

I wonder what sort of People I am.  White middle class female with two fairly well-dressed kids.  That's what I presented at the park.  No political, social, or religious t-shirts, no buttons, I didn't even have any visible tattoos.  I was wearing my wedding ring.  I am baffled.  I am presuming that "People Like Us" are poor people.  *Gasp*  A church allowing poor kids to play on their nice playground equipment - certainly that isn't what Jesus would do.  Every time a poor kid goes down a slide there is a kitten burns in hell.  (Obviously I am typing with a good slathering of sarcasm.  If you didn't know this you're probably pretty confused. And you should stop reading this blog.)

My church has had playground equipment.  The kids in the area defaced it, the thing was falling apart.  The church ended up taking it down for safety purposes, but not because other people were using it.  There is a big field behind our church - people are welcome to use that.  It seems obvious, of course people are welcome in our yard, in our church, with us.  I can't imagine thinking any other way.

I called the minister today to set an appointment and was not able to reach anyone.  I will try again tomorrow.  This is too important to me to leave it alone.  It isn't about my kids, where we can play.  It is about all of those kids.  No, it is even more than that.  I think that, if they are going to profess Christianity, the only way they can prove their faith is to show Christian love to everyone.  Everyone.  Even these cute kiddos.  I'm proud that I'm part of these People.

My Old-Fashioned Life

Do you ever sit there and think, "wow, I am really living *this* life?"  I am having one of those surreal moments when it all seems real but it isn't what I expected.  The partner is working a wonderful dream job, I am a stay at home mom, our kids are doing alright, we have the dog and the cat.  No yard or picket fence yet, but getting there.  We are surrounded by people that love us, both our friends and church folk.  In our hometown we have family that are supportive of us and our move here, loving that we're doing what is right for our family.  Huh, things are pretty good.

I am listening to classical music (currently Beethoven, actually).  I am looking up quilting patterns and talking about what is going on at church.  My friend and I are talking about the kids and what play dates to have.  It all seems so surreal.  

Got me thinking though - some parts of life are really becoming extinct.  When's the last time you talked on the phone?  Mailed a letter?  Listened to the radio?  Rolled down the windows in the car, rather than just turning on the air?  Made food from scratch?  Ironed? 

Now, I don't think a person needs to do any of these things as a sign that they are a well-rounded person.  We all do what works for us, and there is no need to go into Mommy Wars about ironing.  But, for me, I like to do more "old fashioned" things.  It seems at such odds with the rest of who I am.  Liberal, out-spoken, annoyingly political, loud - and yet I'm listening to Beethoven and thinking about needle-point.  I was trying to put myself into a stereotype - Liberal = all electronics, modern, contemporary.  This isn't the case at all.  I can be politically liberal and practice my religion, quilt, make homemade bread.   Really, it furthers my Liberal thinking.  This life is the life for me, but I can't make anyone else live this life.  You have the choice to live how you would like.  Don't let your own notions tell you otherwise.

"I Was Here"

The song "I Was Here" by Kristin Chenoweth is one of my favorite songs ever.  The lyrics are beautiful and mean a lot to me. 

You will notice me
I’ll be leaving my mark
Like initials carved in an old oak tree
Just wait and see

Maybe I’ll write like Twain wrote
Maybe I’ll paint like Van Gogh
Cure the common cold, I don’t know
But I’m ready to start cause I know in my heart

I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on its ear
I wanna do something better
With the time I was given
I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life
Leave nothing less than something that says
I was here

I will prove you wrong
If you think I’m all talk, you’re in for a shock
Cause this dream’s too strong
And before too long

Maybe I’ll compose symphonies
Maybe I’ll fight for world peace
Cause I know it’s my destiny
To leave more than a trace of myself in this place

I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on its ear
I wanna do something better
With the time I was given
I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life
Leave nothing less than something that says
I was here

I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on its ear
(I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on its ear)

I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on its ear
I wanna do something better
With the time I was given
I know that I will do more than just pass through this life
And leave nothing less than something that says
I was here
I was here
I was here 

I think it is difficult to be a stay at home mom for many reasons.  One of the hardest things for me is the feeling that my life isn't important.  I am just not sure about my purpose.  I listen to this song and realize that I am able to reach out and touch the world.  Who knows what is in store for me.  I do know that life will look so different next year: kid feeling better, (hopefully) have a house, daughter able to take some classes, more meaningful relationships.  It will be amazing. 

 

Shhhhh

I am an otter.  No really, I am.  There is a personality index that puts personalities into four categories: lion, golden retriever, beaver, and otter.  The otter talks a lot, is social, won't shut up, is impulsive.  If you ask me to join you I will say "yes" before I know what you're going to say.  This poses all sorts of problems - from fights with family to impulsively signing up to volunteer for everything - but it is also kind of fun.  Being an otter is an adventure; otters like adventures so it is a good fit.  

As you might guess I tend to put my opinion on here, FB, boards, emails, bumper stickers on my car, clothing for myself and the kids, etc.  I don't intend to change someone's mind necessarily.  I really like talking about issues.  Not a monologue, but a discussion about a topic.  It gets my blood going - thinking about something from the another person's point of view, defending what I think, even (gulp) changing what I think.  It is an amazing feeling for this otter.  

I wondered today if it bothered some folk that I post things all over like Aubrey-graffiti.  I am opinionated.  If you visit my fb page you will see something sociopolitical.  You can identify my car immediately because of the bumper stickers.  I wear buttons, talk to people, smile at folks that have similar shirts/stickers.  

Then the doubt creeps in.  Everyone disagrees with me.  (Well, I *am* in Texas, so that is a true assessment.)  I am annoying or immature for speaking my mind.  Nobody cares what I think - I am not that important.  I should just go with the flow, stop making a fool of myself.

Then my otter becomes Super Otter, complete with cape.  My opinion IS important.  I have the right to express it to whomever and however I please.  If a person doesn't agree with the message or medium they can discuss it with me.  (Oh please, I love The Banter)  If that is too scary, feel free to ignore me.  I don't mind.  Hell, I'm an otter, I won't even notice.  But never expect me to shut up.

Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

David has been wanting to watch the american version of this movie since it came out. Let's face it, the score was written by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, directed by David Fincher.  I could have been a cartoon about an elephant - he was going to watch it. 

The movie was relatively long and complex.  Not long to the point of disinterest nor complex enough to be exhausting.  A lot of character and plot development.  Haunting graphic scenes, a strong sense of justice both run through the movie.  Enough moments of levity to keep it enjoyable.  History meets technology, family secrets meet the light of day.  Really the story is fantastic.

I am looking forward to reading the book.  I have never met a movie that was better than the book on which it was based.  Despite the length and sadness of the movie, I did not want it to end. 

I always judge a movie based on two factors.  One, would I watch it again?  Two, would I own it.  Yes on both accounts.  I can not give it five out of five stars, as this is a rating saved for the absolute best of the best.  I will however give it 4 1/2 stars.  A job well done. 



I will return to writing about some sociological irritant tomorrow.  It is respite Wednesday my lovelies.

"Those people."  Two words that communicate disdain and elitism.  Words that I hate...they are the way 'polite company' discusses shared bigotry without getting too close to off-collar vocabulary.  Bigotry in code.  Oh my, sophisticated bigotry.  I thought that bigotry only happened when "those people" don't like people that are the 'wrong' color.  (Insert eye-roll here, please.)*

Bigotry is wrong.  No person is better than any other person.  Let me say it again, NO person is better than any other person.  People make different choices, have different lives.  We are all the same, start out all the same.  All that energy thinking you're better than someone else.  C'mon, seriously?  Give it up.  Bigotry reeks of a low self esteem.  

No worries though, we're all the same - low self esteem or not.  

*I am tired and got a little happy with the quotation marks.  Forgive me.

Ok, ok - I'm weird

There have been some things going on kid-wise that have made it hard for me to focus and feel calm.  Oldest kid is having a hard time in school and at home and I've been worried.  Add on my panic disorder and I am in a constant state of stress.  I need to find a way to combat that before it impacts my health.  Heck, I'd love to have the right word come out of my mouth every once in a while.  Stress does bad things to the noggin.  

A lot of people use relaxation techniques such as meditation, prayer, music, working out, and reading to calm their brains.  Those things work for me.  But what works better than anything else is stirring the shit. 

I love banter. Political, social, religions, equality, etc.  I really love to use my brain that way.  I feel like I'm respectful in my banter and expect the cross-banter-er to also be respectful.  I have found stirring the shit on Facebook to be especially fun.  So many banter opportunities!  

The partner has been suggesting that I read something political to distract me from my parenting struggles.  I love this idea and will take it one step further and comment on the article.  I am smart and opinionated; I should be sharing all of this with the world!  Really, it does me good to say it.  I really refuse to shut up.  

So there it is, a blog post about my future blog posts.  Not the most exciting thing ever written; consider it a warning.  I absolutely refuse to shut up.