Drifting

This past year has thrown so much at us. Where to even begin?

The fall out after the election and the disgusting nature of that idiot in charge. His abandonment of intelligent ideas, his fleshing out of stupidity, and his ability to corral the worst in our society. It takes a toll on your soul.

We lose friends. They move, they distance themselves for whatever reason. We hurt, we cry, it takes its toll on our souls.

We try to connect, to build something where there is nothing. We don't try hard, because we know it's fleeting.

When we do try, they leave, they move, and at least our saving grace is we didn't get close.

But how does a child live through this? Through the abandonment of friends, through the death of family, through the movement of life? I recall as a child where my family lost 22 people in 20 months. How did we survive? How many did I truly know? I'm no worse for the wear, but my sister was. Because she was younger, because she went, she witnessed the sadness, the toll it took on others, and lived through the toll on her soul.

How do we persist?

Through climate issues, garbage issues, issues that feel so existential that you don't understand how to write about them?

Through the capitalist greed, through the money motivation, and through the feeling that you're not good enough if you're not worth enough.

How do we survive?

The children (yes they are still children) of Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School give us hope. To see the future, to know the change is coming, to know that we have raised some of these kids right.

But how to find hope, to find camaraderie? How to find that small niche of a person who fits your family like a glove? To understand and truly know you?

Instead we drift in space. Our souls are in orbit, colliding with each other, but not staying long enough to even exchange pleasantries. We smile, we nod, but we don't connect.

How to live?

How?

#MeToo

The #metoo campaign has been strong and powerful, but it's not really enough because it, yet again, puts the onus on the woman, which is completely and totally unacceptable, which speaks to this graphic:

While we'd like to see men sit there and say "I've done these horrible things and am trying to make amends by teaching others that my behavior is unacceptable and not doing them again," instead we get the bullshit "not all men" answer.

We also get crappy answers from supposed feminists like Mayim Bialik saying "I dress modestly. I don’t act flirtatiously with men as a policy." And then when she's called out for her offensive and ridiculous statements, she goes on to say "Anyone who knows me and my feminism knows that's absurd and not at all what this piece was about." It's not my job to know her. I can only take what she says at it's face value, which was a blaming accusation against women who dare to be themselves.

An artist named Arvida Byström posed as part of Adidas' most recent campaign where she posed alongside her natural body hair. She got rape threats from this campaign, which is, again, totally awful. But her response about it had one of the most eye-opening statements I think I've eve read. "I do think it is a problem that men use sexually violent language when women doesn’t abide." In case you didn't know, the definition of abide is to bear patiently, to endure without yielding. This is the greatest explanation of how I've been feeling. In this regard, men are not asking us to accept but to abide, to stand by while they feel better about themselves. And when we try to fight back, when we try to tell them the horrible things they've been doing, they whine and whimper that "not all men are like that" or that we're "offending" the "good guys" by lumping them together with the bad ones.

A friend of mine put it beautifully:

There are no good men. As long as we live in a world where any man at anytime can assault women and femmes and be believed, none of us can be "good ones."
As long as any man can be believed as part of the discrediting of women or femmes in their fight for sexual autonomy, none of us are "good."

I am generally an open book. Ask and ye shall receive. But with this campaign, I don't feel empowered. I feel vulnerable. Like by somehow outing myself with the rest of the strong, powerful, amazing women I've seen partake in this movement, I've lost something of myself. So I choose not to post. I choose to spectate and love my fellow women brave enough to stand up. And hopefully, by supporting them, I'll feel support too.

Consent

We talk about the fact that rape culture is taught to children at a young age and that it influences the rest of their lives. We tell our girls that they don't have the rights to their own bodies in incredible ways that we don't even notice.

The other day I had a horrifying experience that truly helped me realize how freaking screwed up this is.

Took my kiddo (MK) to the zoo with another mom friend (MF) and her two kids (FK1 and FK2) who are on either side of MK in age. FK1 wanted to hold MK's hand but MK wasn't having any of it. FK1 got slightly insistent (as insistent as you can get at 4 years old) but MK didn't let up. FK1 got upset and began crying to the point that MF had to pick up FK1 and give comfort. (FK2 wanted to hold hands too but is too young to get as upset)

MF explained to FK1 that MK didn't feel like holding hands and that it was okay, that MK still liked FK1 and it wasn't about FK1. FK1 calmed down and, eventually, everything went back to normal. Later on in the day they held hands as they went running about, dropping as they ran at times. No one was upset or hurt or confused.

In my head though, my brain was screaming at itself. I watched the scene and thought to myself, MK, why not just hold FK1's hand? What is it going to hurt? When FK1 got upset and started crying, I almost went over to MK and explained how upset FK1 was and that it would be nice to hold hands. But I did nothing. And I'm so fucking glad I did nothing.

This is how it starts.

Had I stepped in, I would have been teetering on a tense issue. I could have set a terrible precedent, that MK should give into others when they feel uncomfortable. I would have quietly taught MK that it is their job to please others, to go against what they want and how they feel.

By doing nothing, I told MK that MK's body is theirs. They don't owe anyone anything. By explaining to FK1 that MK doesn't have to do anything they don't want to, FK1 will learn that they need to wait until people are ready to do things and not to force someone to do something they're not comfortable with.

I have always told MK when going to people's houses or seeing family that they do not need to give hugs and kisses. However, they need to acknowledge people. The phrase I like to use is "you need to say hello/goodbye either with your hand or with your mouth." A wave is perfectly acceptable as is blowing kisses or simply saying a quick "hi." Acknowledgement is important, it teaches our children that all people are important and worth greeting.

Fortunately, I know I'm not alone in this attitude. There are plenty of other people who agree with this concept.

But the fact that I had this argument in my head makes me so angry.

As angry as I was at myself while watching Netflix's Jessica Jones. By the end of episode 8 (AKA WWJD?), I wanted them to work out. I wanted Kilgrave to be good and for her to make him good and for her to stay with him to make it happen. I wanted them to fall in love and live happily ever after, like it was a fucking fairy tale and they could ride off into the sunset. Watching the end of episode 13 (AKA Smile) where Kilgrave says "My God. It's finally over. You're mine now. No more fighting. No more of these ugly displays. You'll be with me now. Look, after a while...however long it takes...I know...I know you will feel what I feel." made my skin crawl, my entire body wanted to run away from my skin.

But that's rape culture for you. Women have been trained that they want so badly to please the man that their wants and desires and hopes go smashing out the window.

Remember

by age 6, girls are less likely than boys to think that they can be brilliant and by the time they are 15, they conform to social expectations, gender stereotypes, gender roles and lack of role models as they turn away from STEM fields. (An entire explanation can be provided here.)

Do I think lack of education on consent leads to a lack of women in Science? No, but rape culture extends further than we'd like. And perhaps by starting to accept our children's choices we can be sure that they accept others' opinions and choices in the future.

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Blogger gets it.

To pre or not to pre?

We put kiddo into preschool this year, less than a month ago.

On the first day, neither Sweetie nor I got a great feeling from the teacher. Almost like she didn't approve of our situation. She also was very rude to Sweetie when discussing toilet training, simply telling Sweetie to put our kiddo on the toilet and let the kiddo sit there.

Strike 1-sorta

On the second day, Sweetie took kiddo to school and at pick up time, the teacher told Sweetie that kiddo went potty and so kiddo got an M&M. Not previously discussed with us.

Strike 1.5

On the third day, Sweetie was running late so didn't get to talk to the teacher about the M&M. At pick up, teacher sent kiddo home in underwear NOT provided by us and told Sweetie "not sure if your carseat is waterproof, but just go for it."

Also, since day 2, kiddo having nightmare.

Strike 2

Had a meeting with the assistant director about our frustrations, both with communication (SEVERE lack which hasn't even been mentioned here) and the teacher's incompetence. Kiddo moved to a new room where while kiddo goes 2 days a week, rest of kids go 5. Also discussed that calendar sent home had wrong dates on it, given new calendar to properly match website. (Later I had to call to inform them that dates were STILL wrong)

Kiddo in new classroom, no more nightmares.

Finally got proper communication with school (end of week letter sent home) and was met with lovely pictures of kiddo playing and looking like a fun time was being had. Checked website to see that a closed day was coming up, but it was not in the calendar sent home. Called. Confirmed that website is wrong.

ALSO found out that school pictures were taken, with NO notice being sent home to inform parents.

No communication about what is being taught/learned so we can reinforce at home, no communication about photos and wrong information on both the sent home calendar and the website calendar.

We're not being picky. We just want communication.

How effing hard is that???

Cupcake

In my weight-loss journey (ugh, that sound so white and annoying), I've been doing rather (mostly) well in my goals for each day. I'm walking a lot, stretching better and carefully monitoring every single piece of digestible matter that enters my body. While guesstimating what I've made as a home-cooked meal can be difficult to quantify, it's still (slightly) satisfying to know that you've been under your calorie count for the last 3 weeks.

And then I felt ill.

Like super ill.

Like I wanted to stick my fingers down my throat to make the feeling go away ill.

But I didn't. And I was proud of me.

For like a minute, and then the ick factor came back and then I was ill all night.

And ill this morning. PLUS a huge headache.

I thought, maybe I'm limiting too much. Maybe I should have a larger breakfast than 2 slices of bread toasted or 1 package of oatmeal. Maybe I need some actual carbs and protein.

So I had a bagel with egg. And damn was it good. And not as many calories as I may have thought.

Okay, so now I'm at work, feeling ill still. Made a doctor's appointment, but it's not for at least 4 more hours. So I have a snack--blueberries. And all of a sudden, I don't feel so ill! I drink an additional 24 ounces of water (to add to the previous 24 ounces) in the hopes I can ride this feeling out.

And then it peters away.

And I'm sitting with this ill feeling.

In the lunch room, are cupcakes. The delicious looking ones, with blue frosting and a Superb Owl ring I can take home to the kiddo.

I made the decision to eat it. And enjoy it. Because really, when did I do that last?

I savored every last bite, washed the ring, drank 24 more ounces of water and reveled in my happiness. I wasn't even mad that I ate it, that I couldn't get those 200 calories back. Maybe I will be later, when I'm looking at dinner and going, sigh, must be nice to eat some carbs with this meal, but for now, that cupcake made me happy.

So today, my motto is cupcake.

Cupcake bitches.

I am not an object

Today I went for a walk on my lunch break. A simple, normal, everyday thing.

I went to cross the major street and, while on the phone, realized that the two people in the truck waiting to turn left were staring at me. I instantly turned my gaze so I wouldn't notice them. My phone called, so I made another. The crosswalk became available, so I started to walk, all while listening to the voicemail message. I could tell they were following me, but I simply ignored them. I was not interested in anything they had to say. My fly was not down. I hadn't dropped anything. There should have been no need for them to talk to me.

When I got across the street, I heard one of them yell out "HELLOOOOO????" so I unfortunately turned to see them. They were trying to yell something to me, but with the roar of the street and the wind, I could not hear what they were saying. Part of me feared that they'd make a u-turn to come talk to me. Thank heavens they did not.

It was not a pleasant experience. It was creepy, it was mortifying and it was demeaning.

There are days where I feel like this. Other times, the feeling passes and I feel more like a person entitled to cross the street.

Lately, I've seen few videos of catcalling, mainly focusing on the ones where women's boyfriends and fathers see what they deal with. I've also seen the ones where women walk around New York and Comic Con. And here's one explaining what catcalling "really means." And another one explaining why it's a compliment. Here's a satire about how women want to be catcalled. I can't find it anymore, but I found a video once before of a woman walking up to men on the street and saying things that she thought they'd like to hear, like how much she wants his dick or how she wants him to take her. Men seemed to enjoy it.

Then there's this video. I usually like this company's videos, but this is on a different level. The fact that harassment is put in quotation marks makes me beyond uncomfortable. They seem to want to express that women who say they've been harassed are just too sensitive, that it's a complement, that it's something to shrug off.

I really like this group's reaction to the video, most specifically one guy's statement of "I don't wanna hear one more privileged person telling me how much harder they have it then the unprivileged." One of the women says that "at the root of feminism, is the fact that we want to feel as safe as men do and just comfortable, the same amount of comfort that you feel."

Some of the comments in the videos explain that if a woman does not want to be catcalled, she should not wear tight clothes. There is no damn way to express my rage for that statement. The next time someone says that to me as an explanation for why catcalling/rape/harassment/etc is okay, I'm going to Hulk out and destroy some people.

A lot of the videos are skewed, I will admit. The majority of catcallers are not white while the women are. And most men, when presented with the question "would you want someone to do this to your mother or your sister?" respond with "NO!"

So then why do they do it?

I don't know. I really wish I did.

There are some people who have figured out how to respectfully go up to the person they are attracted to on the street and have a lovely conversation which could possibly end up in a date.

I am curious, however, what a catcaller would do if one of the people who they gave their phone number to called? Or, even scarier, used the phone number to find out where they lived and, gasp, showed up at their doorstep.

I wish I had the guts to stand up to those men today. I wish I wasn't afraid to ask them why they thought this was appropriate. I wish I had gotten angry at the man who thanked me for running across the street so I didn't miss the very long light with my child in a stroller.

I am not an object.

I am a person.

And I have a right to feel safe, to feel comfortable and to feel like a human being.

Science Bitch!