Fruit in my dessert

Unconditional

I have always had a problem with the idea of unconditional love. I think the term gets overused and more importantly, I think people say they do it when they really don't. I would fight for my closest family and friends in a, "if you hurt them, I'll street fight you" kind of way. But I don't think that's the same thing. Loving someone without condition takes a lot of guts and I'm not sure that most of us do it with most of the people in our lives. The notable exception here might be parents loving their children, but I don't think that takes the effort or thought that unconditionally loving another person who is not your child does.

BH had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day today, in the middle of a not-so-hot week and month. We're sitting here across the table from one another talking and typing and I just want him to know that eight years into us, I'm pretty sure I love him unconditionally. I think maybe I always have and that's why we're married in the first place, but there have been many moments in our story when I put conditions on it in some subtle and not-so-subtle ways. He, on the other hand, has always fully and unconditionally loved me, even when I haven't wanted him to. Now, if only we could love ourselves unconditionally too. What would we do with all of our free time?

Dirty laundry

I became a mom today in yet another way. I'm thinking about, talking about, and now writing about the process of doing laundry. I swore I wouldn't do this but here I am.

It has come to my attention in the past few weeks that it is very possible to ABDL (always be doing laundry) and it makes me sad and anxious. We don't actually have that much laundry as a family of three. The problem is my process: I do the laundry on day one, fold it on day two or three, and put it away on day four or five. As someone who was once paid for her efficiency expertise, I am embarrassed and ashamed and have started daydreaming about outsourcing the whole thing. For now, I'll try to get the next few loads done in 24 hours or less, even if I need to pull an all nighter. This is not the kind of laundry I ever thought I'd be writing about. Calgon, take me away.

I know it's just a TV show...

We watched Grey's Anatomy on Tivo tonight and one of the story lines, or maybe the whole undercurrent of the show, was about anger and resentment. As I often do with tv and movies, and almost always with Grey's (it's the narration that pushes me over the top), I used the show to cry real tears about real things. The story line about the father dying of kidney disease and his angry adult son who was donating a kidney for money, illustrated by a conflict between Izzy and Alex, well, it made me cry - or its resolution did. There were no words. There was just a dad lying in bed on oxygen and a son in a wheelchair crying, and I could feel the pain and the relief that he "felt" because he was letting his anger go. 

I get angry sometimes, too often perhaps. A previous boss, when presenting me with an "Employee of the Year" award in front of our entire organization, said (among many wonderfully complimentary things), "she is great to work with, but don't cross her," and then gave the crowd a scared/crazy look. I took it as a compliment.

For me, anger is usually about trust and betrayal. Let me give you an example of the range of things that make me angry:

Me: You betrayed my trust because you made out with another girl. You lied to me.
Ex-boyfriend: Huh? Oh.

Me: You betrayed my trust because you said you were going to wear blue today and you're wearing red.
BH: I did? I forgot. I'll change (into blue).
(This conversation usually continues on from here, but it's unrelated to this topic. Me: Don't change. You're only changing because I asked you to, not because you want to change. I know, it's an unwinnable circle that I create, and that makes me angry too, so I guess it's not totally unrelated.)

Perhaps it is partly a function of having a strong memory or an obsession with knack for details, but I am still angry about things that people did to me years ago. And it's usually people I love who make me the most angry, which I suppose makes sense. But boy does it feel good to let anger go. So much wasted energy to put into more valuable things, like blogging and reading other people's blogs and making lists, and cleaning email out, oh, and love. Loving people, loving things, eating, breathing, sleeping.

So, I challenge you: Pick something you're angry about right now - large or small - and just let it go. If you're angry at someone, you don't need call them and forgive them or anything crazy like that, just do it for you. You don't need a why, because, or resolution either.

Here's mine: I'm going to stop being angry at myself for staying up way too late to function properly the next day, especially when I'm not feeling well - at leat for tonight. And now I'm going to go to bed, so I can stop obsessing about how I shouldn't be angry at myself for staying up too late, because I just told you I wasn't going to be angry about that anymore. This isn't as easy as they make it look on tv.

Puberty

So I had the good fortune to get a facial last month on a trip. It was probably my third or fourth facial ever and it was delicious. Of course, during and after the facial, my aesthitician admonished me for using an exfoliating cleanser on my delicate skin and had a plethora of pricey recommendations for me to choose instead. What's worse is that I fell for it. I came home and threw out my "cheap" Dove face wash (a product I originally obtained for free at Oprah's O You! Conference a couple of years ago) and ordered a fancy face wash that was shipped to me all the way from South Africa. And just a few short days later I look like I'm going through puberty, although I didn't get this many pimples the first time. Tomorrow, I have my first real business meeting in months. It might as well be homecoming. Lesson learned: if it ain't broke, don't get a different one, and for heaven's sake, don't throw it out!

No blood before 9am

I just cleaned up HD's second bloody mouth in less than 24 hours, his fifth since mid-September. Every time it happens, it takes a few minutes off my life, and depending on the type, sound, and distance of his fall and other circumstances (e.g. time of day, my caffeine, caloric intake for the day), it takes more than a few minutes off. Of course, if there is blame to be had, it would be mine for the taking, since I should prevent him from falling now and for the rest of his life, but let's forget about the blame and just make a deal: no more blood before 9am. If that doesn't work, maybe I'll just have all of his baby teeth pulled.

Children Learn What They Live

It's hard being a mom, often because it's hard to do all the right things at all the right times to make sure you are giving your best to your child(ren) so that they grow up to be perfect, just like you. I was recently at an orientation to be a volunteer in our local public schools and they handed out copies of the following poem by Dorothy Law Nolte that I thought was a kind of nice and helpful reminder. I hope you enjoy it too.

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

Of course, as I searched around the Internet for Ms. Nolte, I found several different versions of the poem. On the handout I received, the last line is...

If you live with serenity, your child will live with peace of mind.

Doesn't that sound glorious?

Blog Action Day: Poverty - Jumpstart

Today is the second annual Blog Action Day and the issue is poverty. I can't talk about poverty without talking about children. I can't talk about children without talking about education and I can't talk about education without talking about Jumpstart. Readers who know me know about Jumpstart and my passion for its mission, but for those who don't, Jumpstart is an example of what is RIGHT about this country.

Founded in 1993 by college students, Jumpstart has worked for the past 15 years to help children from families in poverty enter school ready to succeed. They pair highly trained college students to work one-on-one with preschool students for a year. The volunteers play, read, and listen to the children. In short, they level the playing field so the preschool students enter kindergarten on the same plain as their middle- and upper-income peers. Jumpstart is an AmeriCorps program that helps America's youngest citizens at a critical stage in their lives and the college students who work with them. In addition to developing meaningful and fulfilling relationships, the college students receive Work Study wages and AmeriCorps awards to put toward furthering their own education.

This year alone, Jumpstart is serving nearly 15,000 children in 20 states and continues to work toward the day that every child in America enters school prepared to succeed. Jumpstart isn't going to solve the global poverty crisis, but they are making a significant dent in a meaningful way and educating children who just may solve the poverty crisis themselves some day.

For more information, click here for Jumpstart's current fact sheet.

What's so great about making decisions?

In an article in the Wall Street Journal on Friday called, Who Wears the Pants, Megan Basham dismisses the criticism of late (by women, of course) that says that a woman should work outside the home and have income (ideally higher than her partner's) in order to have power in their relationship. Ms. Basham's argument is based on a new study by the Pew Research Center that shows that women, regardless of their income level, wield most of the decision-making power in the home.

Of the 1,260 men and women whom Pew pollsters surveyed over the summer, 43% responded that the woman makes most of the major decisions for the family, with 31% saying that the couple makes most decisions together.

For marketers, and most women I know, this isn't new information. Most advertising is targeted toward women for just this reason. And, if anything, it's targeted to women who spend more time in the home rather than less.

Here's my question: does making decisions always equal power? And is it that women get to make decisions or that they have to make decisions because men care less than women do about decisions related to the home and their personal/family lives? And when a man might prefer to do something different than his wife suggests, does he just acquiesce because it's easier rather than because he's been convinced? Is it really "sweeter" that he wants her to be happy, as Ms. Basham suggests, or does his calculation go further? If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy, right?

It was reassuring for me - a woman who wields the majority of the "power" in her home but does not always feel so powerful - to read that older couples make more decisions together than younger couples do. I struggle with not wanting to wield so much "power" but not always being able to give it up in a healthy, appropriate, and loving-my-partner way, which can sometimes render us both without "power" or the ability to make decisions...sometimes about very simple things.

So tell me, what makes you feel powerful? Oh yeah, and when are women going to stop hating on other women?

Like vs. Love

When I was pregnant, and since I've had HD, so many people, other moms, dads, grandparents, have asked me, "could you ever imagine you could love someone so much?" And, even though sometimes I've said no, deep down my answer has always been yes. I could imagine it. I could feel it before he was here, before I even knew I was going to have him. I am intensely in love with a few members of my biological and chosen family. What I didn't imagine before HD was part of my life, was how much I would like him. I have so much fun playing with him, talking to him, singing with him, and just hanging out with him. From the moment I met him, I truly thought he was the coolest kid I'd ever met.

He reminded me again last night when he woke at four am and couldn't get himself back to sleep. I'm not sure if it was teeth or gas or just that he needed some love, but I went in and rubbed his back over the side of the crib for a few moments, which usually puts him right back to sleep, but last night, every time I took my hand off his back, he would crane his neck around to see if I was still there, and when he saw that I was, he would smile and put his head back down. I decided to be my softer self and laid down next to the crib and put my hand on his back through the slats. After a few moments, I tried to sneak out, even though his eyes were wide open, but he sat up and cried as if to tell me he wasn't going to go to sleep without me. He may have been "playing me" but I didn't care. I brought him down to the couch and we cuddled up together. He laid sideways with his head on his blankie on my chest and most of his almost-one-year-old body hanging off of me, and then he just looked up at me and smiled that perfect smile that could convince me to vote for John McCain if he wanted it to. And then, he went to sleep. All I could think about is how much, even at five in the morning (an hour had gone by), I really like him. And what better alarm clock could I have had this morning than HD crawling up my body and face to look out the window behind the couch? Hopefully, we'll both remember this mutual admiration when he's a teenager...or a two-year-old.

Don't Vote

One of the many things in my life that I often take for granted is voting. It's not that I don't vote. I think I have voted every time that I possibly could since I turned 18, but I rarely think about the privilege that it is or the power that it gives me. A lot of people say that voting doesn't matter, and it while is true that it is difficult to see how the vote of one person can make a difference in the direction of our nation or our communities, it really does:



If that explanation doesn't have enough star power to sway you, try this:



VOTE! And bring your friends and family with you!