Category Archives: my soap box

why dance competitions are so freaking long

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Parents, grandparents, aunties, uncles, friends, Romans and countrymen…okay maybe not Romans…but the rest of you, you know how when we are all gathered at pretty much any and every event in the life of our children where they aren’t the only children there like concerts, awards ceremonies, games, graduations, competitions and other stuff where the emcee has to stop every once in a while to remind us all of the rules of the event…the rules that apply to us all at the event. Have you ever thought how much time is wasted when the emcee needs to stop and remind us more than twice, three times, four times..six times…in an hour…of every hour…of every day of the event you are attending?

Have you?

Well I did this weekend, at the event that started Friday afternoon and lasted until Sunday night.

People, THIS is why the emcee at the dance competition we attended Friday afternoon and evening, all day Saturday and all day Sunday had to stop to remind us at the very least four times every hour…in very clear, concise, simple language. At dance competitions like these, public events with our children performing copyrighted choreography on stage it is very clearly prohibited for anyone in the audience to video record a dance…with our children on stage. But that rule must apply to everyone but ME says pretty much every parent, grandparent, auntie, uncle, random stranger who might wander into an open, free, public event.

Ew, to the thought of some random stranger wandering in to a dance competition and taking pictures or recording young dancers on stage!

Ewww!!!

So this is why there is this rule prohibiting photographing or video recording the children on stage and YES it applies to everyone which is why they had to keep stopping…to remind all of us parents, especially the self important ones who were certain that they could not possibly mean THEM, or their iPhone and who were genuinely irritated when kids, my kid actually blocked their view and even more irritated when a staff member of the Rainbow Dance Competition came up to her and told her to stop recording or her kid’s dance would be disqualified.

Yeah, I was clapping. Because self-entitled dance mom you so deserved it.

Seriously, lady, just put down the 12 bucks and buy the damn dvd of your kid’s dance! You want have some person’s shrill voice shouting “You’re actually going to ignore the rules and video record this, aren’t you? Well, aren’t you special!“  and you won’t have people walking into and out of the shot blocking your little darling as she pirouettes across the stage. It is quite good. Note the previous blog post.

baaa-baaa

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Like so many…tens and tens of thousands and ultimately millions of many…I joined the move to turn Facebook red. Slactiviism I am not a fan of, that is true. In memory of Susan Niebur, I avoid the cutesy what color is my bra or where is my purse memes for breast cancer awareness because I am already aware and what I really want is a cure dammit, especially for a dear, dear friend who was just recently diagnosed. I didn’t care much for the cartoon characters meme that was supposed to stop child abuse either. But this week I did go red as did the the majority of my Facebook friends.

What a beautiful sight it was to see my timeline the past couple of days.

And might I say that I have some creative friends? I do!

As the Supreme Court prepared to hear arguments that will decide the fate of Proposition 8 and the Defense Of Marriage Act this week, I noticed a thoughtful post from a dear friend on his Facebook timeline urging his friends to join him and change our profile pictures with a red-hued Human Rights Coalition logo in support of him, his partner, friends and family alike all who desire the same basic right that I get to enjoy…getting married. Another friend, who just the week before lamented on his Facebook page the ridiculousness of filing his and his husband’s taxes: jointly for their State which recognized them as a lawfully wedded couple and separately for their Federal because our Federal government does not recognize them as a married couple, also asked his friends to join him and his husband in calling for marriage equality for all…gay or straight. I dearly love these two friends. How could I not come along side them and support them? The marriages of my friends who just so happen to be gay are just as valid and special as is my marriage. I stand beside them asking for them to have the same right to be able to marry their special someone and enjoy the benefits (and frustrations) of all other married people.

As Tuesday turned into Wednesday and even today, my timeline became red…very red. People I never would have imagined took a stand to support marriage equality for us all here in the United States.I love this! Even better, there was only one…ONE…one negative post that showed up in my timeline where a friend exhorted us all to not be sheep.

Well BAAAAAAAA!!!!!

In all seriousness, this was a social movement of support that could not be ignored. It was a movement that celebrated hugely social change whose time has come…actually whose time should have been here already. This meme started mostly thoughtful dialogues over the idea of inclusion and consideration of the arguments for and against marriage. Arguments like marriage is supposed to be just for a man and a woman because we should be procreating…um, I am definitely in trouble here since god has for sure closed my womb. The red avatar movement offered overwhelming support to our friends, families and associates who are lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. I can only imagine how it was for them to see the red spread all over their own timelines…especially when dear, old church ladies and grumpy old right-wing men they know joined in. This was a movement so full of positive impact that we can’t help but celebrate its positive impact. We should celebrate it.

So we are sheep?

Okay, fine. We are sheep herded together and moving together towards something good. Something better. The strays can go ahead and get stuck in the brambles, or worse.

teach our children well

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In the news all over the place this last week or so was this.

And the media was not guilty alone in the re-victimization of this horrible crime.

Frankly I am tired of the sympathy for Trent Mays and Ma’lik Richmond. Sorry, but I was not moved by their tears, their apologies after they were found guilty and the proclamation made by Richmond that “my life is over, no one is going to want me now.” These young men…good students, talented football players, young people with so much promise…not unlike their friends Michael Nodianos, Mark Cole II, Evan Westlake, Cody Saltsman, Anthony Craig and every other person (student, parent, teacher, coach, minister) who was witness to and complicit in the rape of a 16 year old girl are wholly and completely responsible for the criminal and immoral actions they did. Period.

We teach our daughters to be mindful of how they dress, how they talk. We teach our girls the difference between
a man who flatters her and one who compliments her,
one who spends money on her and one who invests in her,
one who views her as property and one who views her properly,
a man who lusts after her and a man who loves her,
a man who believes that he is a gift to women and the man who believes she is a gift to him.
We warn our girls to never leave their drink unattended, to never go anywhere alone with a stranger and on and on and on it goes…We instruct and admonish all these things and more when talking to our daughters but it still does not protect them or any other girl or woman from violent sexual crimes against women. But after raising four daughters of mine to be mindful of all of these things and then some I find myself coming to a place where I believe that we should not be teaching our daughters how not to get raped…because NOTHING our daughters do is ever something that makes them deserving of such a horrific thing.

Never!

Never!!

Ever!!!

We need to be teaching our sons these things. We need to instruct our boys that regardless of where a girl comes from or how she might be dressed or what she might be saying or doing she is still a human being just like he is…a human being deserving to be treated just as our son would want to be treated…or might expect his sister or his mother or his grandmother to be treated. We need to make sure that our sons understand that yes they can control their own physical urges. We need to constantly remind our sons that when a girl says no it means no…when a girl is silent it means no…when a girl is under the influence of alcohol or drugs it means no…when a girl is asleep or unconscious it absolutely, positively means no. We need to insure that our sons understand that no girl is ever asking for it because of the way she might be dressed or how she looks when she walks past them or when she is under the influence of any substance that might impair their ability to reason, talk, walk and to definitely say NO!

We need to make sure that our sons and our daughters understand that when they witness such vile acts happening to another human being we should not pull out our smart phones and capture the event on Instagram or for YouTube or Twitter or Facebook or SnapChat or any other social media platform. We need to teach our children that when they pull out their phones they should be calling the police to report a serious crime.We need to teach our children that the victim of the crime is always the victim even when those who committed the crime against the victim are really nice kids with promising futures in sports or academia or are pillars of the community. Our children must come to understand that when they witness someone carrying around an unconscious naked human being it is wrong. We need to make sure our children realize that if they witness someone forcing body parts or any objects into the mouth or vagina or anus of an unconscious person that someone is raping them. We need to instruct our children that the only thing to do, the thing that they MUST do if they witness such heinous acts is to call the police.

Period.

give-aways

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If you find your way here by Googling “give-aways” I must apologize right now. I’m not giving away anything.

Helping a friend of mine out with a project about micropreemies and their families, I found myself taking a trip down memory lane with Daniel along for the ride.

Sorting through the stack of Polaroid photos from when Daniel was at his tiniest brought back so many memories…good ones, scary ones, bad ones and the ones that continue to this day to make my heart swell with overwhelming love for this beautiful boy of mine. Daniel and I together reminisce over how we met, his Daddy, him and me, and we all fell in love with each other because we were a family. His understanding of his foster-adoption is simple, he HAD to be born 16 weeks early because he was ready to meet his Daddy and Mommy…Bill and me. He carefully thumbed through the pictures and memory book his nurses, my co-workers, made for him and then proudly exclaims, “I am so, so happy that you adopted me!” Then he hugs me oh so tightly.

“I am so, so happy that we adopted you too!“, I answer back.

Improbable circumstances brought us together and completed our family circus act…for good.

Not a family out there who was created and completed by adoption ever takes lightly that which brought them all together. Regardless of the relationships we may or may not have with the biological parents of our children, or the circumstances that led to their relinquishing their children, not a moment goes by where we don’t reflect on them with gratitude for this beautiful child that is now our beautiful son or daughter. None of us can ever to presume what they might have been thinking or feeling…unless we too have birthed a baby only to soon after relinquish our baby. But we can certainly be grateful and, from time to time, say a quiet little prayer for them. It is never ours to understand the hows and whys; it is just for us to be thankful and to do our very best to love and nurture the child that is now ours forever.

Even on those days where, as the old saying goes, it is a good thing that God made them so cute. We all have days like these with our darling children and yes, oh dear glob, it is a good thing that they are damn cute on days like those.

  • Tell your kids that.
  • Put them to bed for the night even if it is only 5 o’clock in the afternoon.
  • Pour yourself a very tall and very strong drink.
  • Vent away to your husband, wife, parents, sister, brother, best friend or the lady ringing up your purchases at Target..

Go ahead…

Scream it to the universe…

THIS KID AND HIS/HER ___whatever they are doing or not doing___ IS DRIVING ME CRAZY!!!

But please, oh please don’t tell your kids, friends, family, strangers that you’re going give away your kid and put them up for adoption because they ___whatever they are doing or not doing___ and you are so done being their parents.

Just don’t.

Think about what you are saying…what your child is hearing you say…what my child just heard you say.

For what it’s worth that’s not how adoption works. Bad children, broken children, children who drive us crazy are not just given away…given away to just anyone. Adoption is our choosing to accept another person’s child as our very own, to become our child, a part of our family forever. The circumstances that bring a child together with their adoptive parents are as diverse as the children and all the parents are but they all are beautiful and miraculous.

I can’t think of a way to sum up this blog post of mine into a pretty, pretty wrapped gift with a shiny bow for you to enjoy except to say such talk, no matter how frivolous it might be, bugs me. It bugs the hell out of me.

Adoption is not that.

Not that at all.

that awkward moment…

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Having been a somewhat shy and definitely awkward person most of my life I have had more than my fair share of awkward moments…

Waaa-aaay more than my fair share!

My most recent bugged the hell out of a few people…or perhaps they couldn’t see the humor in what I had to say. Then again my darling husband has often warned me that I am lousy at telling jokes. It’s the awkward in me. But yes, I insulted a few people…dare I say pissed off perhaps one. I’m only guessing given the reaction of others in our circles.

It was awkward.

Even more awkward was when someone reached out to me, in a gesture of friendship during that awkward moment of mine. Willingly, I accepted because we move in the same circle. Why not accept their friendship? This is what people do sometimes, you know when they move in the same circles and share common interests or activities.

Right?

Of course.

Usually.

Until, after reaching out with an offer of friendship they then proceed to do something completely unexpected. Um, actually it was kind of outrageous and downright rude. Unless it is cool to publicly attack your child. Yes, YOUR child. Oh and cast judgment on parenting skills…because of their obvious qualifications.

I was once a super parenting expert too…before I had children and when Hollie was a small one. I knew EXACTLY how other people should be caring for their children…especially if I didn’t know them very well. Then I got busy raising my five children, weathering through adolescence and hormones times FOUR and seeing three make it to adulthood. Yeah, I was an expert too uniquely qualified like that until shit got real.
Humbling…very humbling.
That’s Karma.
But now it’s gratifying. Really gratifying. Especially when I see my kids show integrity, honesty and loyalty when others aren’t looking…like one did that ultimately led to my bad joke that started all of this awkwardness.

Sorry, my snark is showing just a little.

What can I say? That was a pretty awkward moment. A REALLY awkward moment.

It gets you to thinking late at night…

wondering…

What the hell was your motivation when you were “making friends” with me?

How did you even know about that awkward attempt at humor? Sure it was public but you weren’t there to witness my attempt at humor. You came after the fact…after you extended your hand in friendship

No, I won’t judge whatever motivated you. I won’t even judge you for what you imagined was a justified public attack against MY child. After all you did reach out to apologize to her. Thank you for that.

I will wonder why you couldn’t just ask me what the hell was my problem joking around like that? Calling me out, not my child, for the thing that I said would likely be acceptable because you seek to back up someone we both know. Someone whom we both regard as a friend…a GOOD friend.

Then I will ponder why those who might have been hurt and pissed couldn’t just come to me on their own because I thought that we were friends. We certainly have been pretty close the last eight years. We’ve done business together for those eight years…good business. We’ve grown close, shared laughter and tears and confidences…you know, the way friends do.People who have been that close for that long certainly could call on one another when such awkwardness happens…and possibly hurts.

Awkward.