Goals and accomplishments: weight loss

My goals for 2013:

1. Walk 500 miles. That's right; I'm going to annoy myself with a song to make myself walk 500 miles. I plan to not listen to that song once, though. I count miles on the treadmill, elliptical, and anywhere else that I walk.
2. Plank for 365 minutes. This one is proving to be tough because planking hurts. But it's only one minute at a time. I CAN DO THIS. 

My daughter is challenging me on this. She's 7, so obviously she's able to kick butt at fitness because at 7 she's a little ball of muscles and energy.  But she's good motivation. So I'll keep her totals posted, too.

Current totals:

4/01/2013 (91st day of the year)
Bec miles walked: 47 miles
Bec minutes planked: 7 minutes

The fix for evil

The big stories here in the U.S. lately are that of people taking a gun and going into gun-free zones, shooting people, and killing themselves or being killed by law enforcement personnel who finally arrives on the scene.
Everyone has a theory as to how these acts of senseless violence can be stopped.
Make guns illegal to own! Add security guards in schools! Lock the doors and make people report to the school office when they come in! Or the more logical: put armed guards in schools. Stop gun-free zones from existing since they are an invitation for psychos with guns. Ramp up security on school campuses. Make it easier to purchase a gun legally in order to protect yourself, since it's VERY easy to purchase a gun ILLEGALLY to harm others.

Some of these ideas are good. A gun-free zone is an invitation for a free, no-holds-barred, get-your-face-on-TV-before-you-die shooting spree. Some of these ideas are pitifully ineffective: make guns illegal? Yeah, kids. Meth is illegal too yet it's very easy to buy because criminals don't follow laws. Everyone has an opinion and everyone is freely voicing what they think will solve the problem.

But I think we're all ignoring the root problem, the one thing missing in every one of these massive crimes: personal responsibility.

The shooter and his legal guardians take no responsibility for the actions of those they are supposed to be in charge of. A lot of these violent crimes are being committed by children - people still in high school or college. People whose parents still have some influence in their lives, or who had influence in their lives during the formative years when scary behavior began to show up. This leads me to the conclusion that if parents would control their kids, if neighbors and teachers would speak up when they saw questionable behavior, if people would take responsibility for their own actions... many of these shooting sprees would never happen. If parents would just be involved in their kids' lives - and I mean REALLY involved - we would be able to prevent most of these tragedies that come about from isolated, depressed kids with problems who see mass shootings and suicides as the only way "out."

But that's difficult to do, it's difficult to monitor. Because apparently it's hard to control your own children? I personally know many parents whose TODDLER-AGED kids are completely out of control - wrecking the house, staying up late, not cleaning up after themselves, talking back, et cetera. The reason these kids are out of control is because the parents don't bother to control them. The kids grow up to be just as disrespectful, just as spoiled as they were when they were in diapers. They become preteens and suddenly they stay out late, they continue to talk back and have no respect for authority, they get in trouble at school. Yet the parents are still not even considered to be 'bad parents' because poor parenting is an epidemic in this country. We see these behaviors and we just want to assume the kids are fine, they'll grow out of it. It's just easier to assume that they're just fine than it is to step in and do something to change these behaviors that the parents allowed all these years.

Yet in pretty much every case of a mass shooter or a teenager committing a dangerous crime, there are signs leading up to the crime. When a teenager commits these crimes, he has almost always already raised red flags in his school, his circle of classmates, and/or his own home. Many of these shooters are on  medications for mental health problems, have been in school counseling, and have been in trouble at school. Yet we continue to justify dangerous behaviors. "He's just a teenager," we say. Or we absolve ourselves of responsibility: "He's out of control! I can't do anything with him."

Listen, if you did a poor enough job of raising a person from infancy to toddlerhood to elementary school age to junior high, that your child turns into a delinquent, then you are at fault because you raised your child poorly. Or if your child has mental health problems and you don't catch them and make valiant efforts to either get them the treatment they need or secure them so that they aren't able to harm others, you are at fault because you are not involved enough in your child's life. And if it's so out of control that your child is engaging in harmful behaviors that you can't control, then you need to look into these things called "juvenile detention facilities."

If you really can't manage to be involved enough in your child's life to prevent them from becoming violent, angry potential murderers, then you need to seek help elsewhere. Talk to school counselors, get the kid involved in a program that mentors them or scares them straight depending on where they are in their mental health. The minute that we, as parents, say "My child is out of control and I can't do anything" is the minute that we essentially give them permission to do whatever it is that they want to do. There has to be more active parenting. There has to be more intentional interactions between the people in the child's life. There has to be less "Hey, it's not my fault!" and more "This needs to stop, right now, no matter what it takes." Until parents are willing to admit that they did a poor job so far and commit to turning into involved parents who parent with intent and focus no matter how difficult the situation is, we will continue to breed and glorify these spoiled, hateful, messed-up kids who feel that murder/suicide is the only way out of their sad lives. To the parents of these kids, I say GROW UP and do your job.

Excuses, excuses

Sometimes I need to realize that being honest with myself and finding the reason for my actions isn't an excuse.

So often I write off the motivation behind my actions as an excuse, not wanting to appear to be "weak." This is a running theme for me. "Don't say that you (did this) because you (felt this). It will seem like an excuse." But what if you DID do this because you felt this? Finding out the reason behind a mistake isn't an excuse, it's a reason. It's okay to do this.

Manic ramblings

In the throes of a manic-depressive phase again. And not just manic, not just depressive, both. It's like I'm vacillating between excitement and fury, wanting to go out and wanting to sob, needing to dance and needing a hug. I don't know what caused this feeling and I don't know how to fight it. And I feel like every time Dan kindly gives in to my requests to get out of the house, it's like we're feeding the mania monster and not solving anything.

Today, we woke up and I was antsy already. I wanted to get out and go somewhere before an engagement we had this evening. I looked at every website I could find: facebook, meetup, local patch websites, goby... nothing is going on today. I looked at a restaurant that looked good, but we vetoed it on price. I just couldn't find anything to get the antsy feeling to go away. I didn't want to go out alone; I wanted to do something fun as a family. We stayed in bed for awhile. Julianna came in and Dan tickled her for like 25 minutes until she was hyperventilating and squeaky. It was great. She's one lucky little turd.

We got up and I vegged out, and then decided to hit the gym. I went and got in a half-hour workout that was cut short because I was annoyed by this chick two ellipticals over, TALKING while she was working out to the person (her husband?) on the elliptical next to her. WHO TALKS DURING A WORKOUT? I could hear her over my music. There is nothing more infuriating than people who go to the gym and just piss around when everyone else is trying to get in a good workout. I wanted to punch her. I hit my 30 minute mark, jumped off, cleaned off my machine, sent her one more stinkeye, and left. In retrospect, my fury was over the top. But seriously, folks. Shut the fuck up at the gym. It's my only escape, and listening to your bland conversations while I'm trying to clear my head isn't my idea of a good escape.

I came home and cried on Dan's shoulder, and then got a text from a friend who's coming over tonight. This is awesome news because I haven't seen her in MONTHS and I missed her.

But I don't want events - going out, staying in with friends, company, etc - to be the only way that I calm down. I don't want to have to get out of the house just to be okay with being alive. I wish I could describe this feeling. As I cried on Dan, I apologized for being crazy. He of course insisted that I'm not, but I think I am. This isn't normal, and it doesn't feel good to want to scream and cry at the same time, over nothing.

Before I came in the house after the gym, I sat in the car and cried. I couldn't figure out why I wanted to cry, and I knew I needed to cry, but I couldn't cry until I pictured trying to explain how I feel to someone, namely Dan. I just feel so helpless to express how I'm feeling when I'm like this. I feel trapped inside my own body, except when I'm in a manic/depressive phase, I'm not ME, it's not MY body. It's this other person who isn't rational, doesn't know what she wants, and doesn't know how to step outside of her own head.

I'm writing this up right now because it's the only way I can calm down. It's working. It's bringing a sense of order to this chaos inside me. I still feel insane and upset, but I'm more down now than up, more depressed than manic. Instead of a raging fire in my stomach, now there's just a heavy, hot ball of lead. I know that doesn't make sense, but that's how it feels.

It seemed like the crying helped. It washed away some exhaustion and fury that I was feeling. It seems like the mania, the anger, the fury goes away when I cry and get a hug? I don't know. It might rear its ugly head in ten minutes again; I can't tell. But I know that I just feel...tired now. And now that I"m typing this paragraph, I see that I'm NOT Manic-depressive (both), i'm manic. Well, I was. Now I'm coming back down to depressed, calm, settled for sadness.

I just wish I could get in a big, empty room with this part of my brain and talk to it, and have it talk back. Why are you like this? What makes you do this? How can I stop you? Why are you toying with my life, why can't you just let me be normal? Will medications help you, or just turn you into a foggy zombie?

And then I'd like to take that part of my brain and beat the shit out of it. With a stick. Just fucking pulverize it, smash it, punch it and kick it until it dies. I can't stand this. I can't stand that there's this monster inside of me, taking away normalcy and replacing it with something I can't explain, something I can't control. Have I ever been normal? I don't think so. I've always had periods of my mind racing, my thoughts frantically rushing through  my head with no pattern and no goal, just thought after unrelated thought, as if they're all competing for each other for my attention but none can speak up louder than the other.

Alcohol shuts them up. Sleep does, too, but it's hard to get TO sleep when i'm like that. Hence the alcohol.

But I haven't been drinking lately. It's been weeks. I've avoided caffeine like the plague because I think it makes me crazy, it brings on the mania. I've been exercising and sleeping more than my usual 6 hours, but still less than 8. I'm still tired when I wake up. The mania is worse when I'm tired, so is the depression. I can't explain it.

Do I hate the thought of going to a therapist and dumping these thoughts out, trying to make her understand how I feel and to search for the triggers? I don't mind. I like talking, and I love insight. But it's the life story that gets me. Sitting down and going over all the shit I've been through takes hours, and it takes an emotional toll on me. I had one therapist where I felt completely comfortable doing this, and she was wonderful and I miss her, but she doesn't take my insurance and I can't afford her fee of $70 per hour. My insurance however does cover other therapists, so I need to go. I don't know what will happen. Will they suggest meds? If so, will I take them? I don't fucking know. I don't even want to think about it, so again I change the subject and let it go away until this topic comes up again.

Goddamn, I need a break from being me. Let me trade places with someone boring, someone whose problems are easy: bratty kids, a messy house, a stressful job. All of those things are hard, but they are so simple without the added layer of CRAZY in the brain. I could deal with all the BS in the world so much easier if I had a brain that functioned like a brain, not like a fucking...maniac. God, I never thought about that word until I acknowledged my therapist's diagnosis of Bipolar II. Maniac...one who suffers from mania. Well, that's it then. I'm a maniac. Is that an excuse? Or is that the cause? I don't want it to be an excuse for my behavior. I sure as shit don't want people looking at me differently for it. I don't even want to admit it to some people. I just want to be normal, feel normal, and appear normal. I know, I know. Normal is relative. But there's a spectrum of behaviors, and I want to be in the fucking MIDDLE for once. And I don't think meds will help me get there. I hear they're all laced with fogginess and side effects.

This has been one hell of a rant. I'm not even going to read over it. Usually when I write, I proofread at least twice and rearrange entire sentences and paragraphs, fix phrasing and make sure that I'm staying on point and making a clear statement. But today, I know I'm not, and that's not the point in this. The point in this entry is to show me, to show future me reading this, how I feel right now. Hi, Becky of the future, reading this on a sane day, shaking your head and sighing. I hope you're having a good day. Go see a therapist, I promise it'll help. I think. Fuck if I know.

Sigh.

Cabela's responds to "Medical Excise Tax" on receipt regarding Obamacare

I recently saw the same post going around facebook and snopes that customers were charged a medical excise tax at the beginning of 2013 at Cabela's. Being a fan of Cabela's and an NRA member, I was of course upset like everyone else. Here are a few of the photos circulating:

 

Obviously the idea of a medical excise tax is infuriating to those of us who didn't vote for Soon-To-Be-Dictator Obama, and Cabela's doesn't seem like the kind of business to stand behind Obama's politics, either. Being a sports(wo)man myself and a huge fan of Cabela's (we're there about a dozen times a year), I messaged the company to find out the truth about this tax and the photos circulating the internet. Rather than relying on Snopes.com, who has an obvious liberal agenda, I figured I'd try to find out myself what the answer is.

I left a comment on their facebook wall and sent the same message via their contact form on their website.


This is what my message said and below that is the response I received from the company. I hope this clears up any confusion.

Essentially, (if you don't want to read the full exchange below):

1. There was an error in their machines. The tax was a mistake.
   
2. They WANT TO GIVE YOU A REFUND - instructions are below and
    
3. Don't boycott Cabela's. They are a great company and unlike many other companies (talking to you, Dicks and Cheaper than Dirt), they aren't bowing to the pressure to support the raping of our freedoms "Gun Control."

Hello,
As you may be aware, there are photographs going around the internet that a customer was charged a medical excise tax for a non-medical purchase at Cabela's. According to snopes.com, it was a glitch on Cabela's software with the turn of the new year. However, snopes is known to be unreliable and liberally-slanted, so is there any way this issue can officially be cleared up? I know that Cabela's is a great company that supports outdoorsmen, and I'd love to be able to clear up some of the anger circulating around facebook regarding these pictures. A response is always appreciated. Thanks!

About 18 hours later, I received this response via email:

Response Via Email (Austin)

01/03/2013 03:16 PM

Hello Rebecca, Thank you for contacting Cabelas! On January 1, 2013 many retail transactions were charged a Medicare Excise tax. By noon the problem was worked on and fixed. If any customers were charged with this tax are being credited unless paid by cash or check. If paid by cash or check the customers are encouraged to take the receipt to the store to be issued credit. There was an error made by mistake, and was fixed. If you have any further questions, or comments feel free to contact us. Thank you for visiting cabelas.com and come back soon! Happy New Year! Sincerely, Austin H 1-800-237-4444 We are here for you 24/7! www.cabelas.com

Differences of Opinion

I have a long history of burnt bridges behind me.

Some are benign - we grew apart, we grew up, we moved away... But many of my ended friendships are the result of a blowout between myself and someone I once considered to be a friend.

Part of this I know is a direct result of my inability, my refusal, to speak up when an issue is minor. I assume the issue will go away or change, but inevitably it doesn't and suddenly I blow up on someone. It's also partially attributed to the fact that I am highly opinionated and don't control my temper well when I'm discussing an issue that I care about.

I realize that these are big faults of mine, but there are many instances in which ending a friendship was the right choice for me.

After years of letting people take advantage of me - family, boyfriends, friends, coworkers, and bosses - I'm at the point where my bullshit meter is on high alert. When I see someone dismissing logic or being argumentative just for the sake of being different and rebellious against 'the man', I immediately feel that they are a threat to me personally and to the American way of life, and I go on a mission to remove them from my life. This is a recent development that is borne out of my desire to surround myself with people who give a shit about what I give a shit about. Nobody wants to be friends with someone who personally hates their values.

Call me closed-minded. That's fine, and accurate in some instances. I'll never understand certain social stances because they're wrong, and what I believe happens to be right. For instance, I'm never going to agree that it's okay to redistribute the wealth of hard-working people to support people who refuse to work hard. That will never be okay with me. But this isn't about being 'closed-minded.' This is about living my life in a way that makes me go to bed at night without regret, without feeling like I betrayed myself. My allegiance is to what's best: to a country FOR the people...to personal responsibility.... to intentional, disciplined parenting... to preserving the rights of my fellow countrymen without having to explain why they are rights... and I'm not going to apologize for this because I'm not in the wrong.

Some people have explained their viewpoints: that there will always be people in your circle who disagree with you religiously or politically. Of course I agree with that. But I disagree that I have to allow these people into my close circle of friends. People who were once 'good friends' can't simply drift away; it doesn't work like that in my experience. The best break is a clean, permanent break. It's easiest on everyone; it's the most honest way, and it leaves no confusion.

If you believe something that is personally painful to me, I will not have any reason to be friends with you. If you, for instance, feel that a woman's convenience is a "right" that takes precedence over the inherent right to life that a child in her belly possesses, I don't want you to be around my child. Because you would've aborted my child if you were in my shoes when I got pregnant with her. Her father was abusive to me, I didn't have a job, I was extremely depressed and in the hardest phase of my life, and was completely unprepared to be a mother. If you were me in that situation and you believe in abortion as a "right" a woman has, you would've tossed out her fetus like day-old bread. You would've killed the child that I know and love and live for today. And that tells me that you don't value her life because you don't value the life of any baby who comes at the wrong time or in the wrong situation. So I don't want you in my life, and I definitely don't want you in hers.

If you believe that the only people who should have armed protection are the president and his family, you are automatically discounting myself, my family, and even yourself as 'less important' and therefore less of a human than our government. You put the life of a celebrity over the life of my family and I don't want you voting in our elections, let alone directly influencing my child with your self-hatred and anti-American spewing.


Those are just a few examples. I'm not going into details about the latest bridges I've burned, but I can say definitively that I am better off without the friends I ended communication with. They held opinions so vastly different from mine that it got to the point that I had to constantly defend what I believed. When I got fed up with it, they accused me of putting up walls when in reality, I was only trying to surround myself with people who didn't treat me like a pariah because I have conservative values. In the end, it's all for the best. They were unreliable anyway; they probably would have texted me the day of my wedding to say they couldn't make it, if they remembered the wedding at all. That's what they did for more than half of the get-togethers we planned... what a waste of my time and energy.

Sigh.

I realize that my tactics are leaving me alone, without close friends.

But I think I'd rather have one or two close friends that I can completely trust the opinions of, than a half dozen friends who give hedonistic advice and don't provide any moral accountability.

My Eulogy

A few weeks ago to Improv class, we did an exercise where we each got up and gave our own eulogy, either as a friend or family member or even as ourselves. I got up and said what I wanted someone to say about me, but I realized that there wasn't a soul in the world who knew those words. My fiance loves me and knows me well, as does my older sister. I know that the two of them would have a lot to say about who I was and what I wanted people to remember me for. But I don't know that anyone would have been able to say what was in my life's heartsong.

I'll try to type my eulogy here, again, because it's important to me. But more urgent than that, I'll try to live my eulogy beforehand. I know that we all get caught up in the minutiae of life and sometimes don't realize that we've let our passions dissolve into our morning cup of coffee, but I don't want to live like that.

What would your eulogy say? What would you have to change in order to live your life as you wish you should have?

My Eulogy:

Becky is gone, but today we talk about her life. She was many things: a daughter, a sister, a mother, a fiance, a writer, a talker, a geek. But one of the titles that she worked the hardest on, and that she cared about the most, was the title of "mother." She'd be the first to tell you that she was disorganized, forgetting to send out birthday party invitations until just days before her daughter's birthday, and forgetting to sign Julianna's homework in time. But she loved Julianna and had a burning desire to give that child the best possible life she could have.

She often wrote letters to Julianna. She wrote this letter to her daughter in 2010 or 2011 before going into surgery:

My dearest Julianna Nicole,
 You are a beautiful person, inside and out. I am so proud of the girl that you are and of the woman you will grow up to be. I want to remind you of a few things that you should always know: 

• I love you.
  I love you because you’re you. I love who you are, and who you’ve become. I love you in your mistakes and in your perfection. I love you no matter what you do, no matter where you go or who you become. I love you, because you’re you. That cannot and will not change.
• You are perfect just as you are.
  YOU are amazing. I need you to always know this, no matter what anyone says. YOU need you to always know this. Don’t worry about what other people say you should be, do, or look like. YOU make your choices to be, do, and look the way that YOU want to.
• Stop. Look around.
  Sometimes as a grown-up, you will get caught up in the every-day things like going to work, doing laundry, and eating dinner. Never get so caught up that you don’t stop to appreciate what you have. Never get so caught up that you don’t stop to think about what your heart longs for. Enjoy life as it is, but don’t forget to follow your dreams.
• Dream big for yourself, little one.
  Find out who you are (this is through trial and error) and discover your passions. Have little dreams about things you want to try, places you want to go. Have huge dreams about who you want to be, how you want to behave, what you would like to accomplish, what you would like your career to be, what family you envision yourself starting.
• Dream big for the world.
  You can change the world if you try. You can change lives. Don’t ever make your life only about you. You can serve others with your actions. Trust me, it will feel good. Have little dreams about how you interact with people, how you help out, how you treat your friends and family. Have huge dreams about ending poverty, feeding the homeless, saving animals, or whatever cause makes your heart beat faster.
• Make choices that you can be proud of.
  Remember, we will always make mistakes but we should always think before we do or say anything. Take time, think it through. If it is something you will regret, maybe you shouldn’t do it. If it is something you will regret and you still want to do it, that is your choice and it is okay to make that choice – however, know that YOU will be the one living with the consequences, and others may have to live with your choices as well. In that same vein…
• You WILL make mistakes.
  You will make choices that you regret – some big, some small. But this is what you need to know: no matter what mistakes you make, you are forgiven. God forgives you and so do the people who love you. That is not a question. But, the hardest part is forgiving yourself. If you make a mistake, move on with your life. You aren’t going to make perfect choices but being angry with yourself or feeling sad won’t help you at all. You must choose to be kind to yourself. Allow room for error, and allow room in your own heart to forgive yourself, no matter what you do. Let me tell you a secret: over the course of a lifetime, every single person will make mistakes that they never, ever thought they would make. But not every person will have the strength of character to forgive themselves. You must forgive yourself.
• Everyone is different, on the inside and on the outside. Know this. Accept this.
  Some people will be just like you. Some people will be very different. This is a wonderful thing. Surround yourself with people who have all different religious beliefs, political beliefs, ethnic backgrounds, lifestyles, and opinions. You will learn about the world and about yourself through these friends.
• Be aware that it is truth, not opinion, that some people are beautiful inside, and some people are ugly inside. People who are ugly on the inside want other people to be ugly and unhappy, too. You should love them anyway, but do not let them change you to mirror their ugliness.
• Never apologize for your opinions. If you really believe what you think you believe, stand behind yourself proudly, and enter discussions with people who believe what you believe, as well as with people who believe the opposite of, or differently than, what you believe.
• Love. Love people. Show them that you love them. Help people, hug people, compliment people. No matter who they are, where they’ve been, or what they believe, every person deserves to be loved.
• Love yourself. Do things that you enjoy. Take time to spoil yourself. Find people to share good times with. Treat yourself well and talk to yourself in the same way you would talk to a beloved friend. Don’t ever insult yourself or be mean to yourself, even in your head. Make a constant, concerted effort to always treat yourself with love and affection. Make it a requirement for you to be nice to yourself first – and if you are nice to yourself, you will probably be nice to others.
• Examine yourself constantly. Be aware of who you are and who you appear to be. If you are personally not happy with what you see, change what you can change, and accept what you cannot change.
• Try new things. Challenge yourself. Do things you never thought you could do. You will be surprised at what you enjoy, and what you can accomplish.
• Find your art. Everyone has a way to express themselves. My art is words: I love to take an idea and craft into a well-thought-out paragraph, using words that mean exactly what I'm thinking, while expressing what I'm thinking in the tone that I intend to express it. It makes my eyebrows furrow, my heart race, and my soul sing. Some people paint, draw, sculpt, scrapbook, sing, dance, act, play instruments, write poetry, write stories, write articles, write letters…all to express themselves. There are probably a million more ways to express yourself artistically. Find yours. Find many, find few. But find an art.
• QUESTION EVERYTHING. I know we are raising you to believe in God and Jesus. But, child of mine, DO NOT BELIEVE IN GOD until you have decided to believe in him yourself. Read the Bible. Read other religious books from around the world. Look at the facts. Examine your heart. Believe what you believe is right and true and good. Don’t believe in anything because someone told you to, or because everyone else does, or because it looks fun, or because you think it makes you look a certain way. Believe in what your heart truly agrees with. Whatever that is, for however long that is. I trust you to find something that feels right to you.
• Don’t keep secrets from the people who love you. No matter the choices you make, you will always be better off if you share them with people who can help you work through them. Don’t ever close yourself off from people who love you. If you’re doing something that you want to keep to yourself, I understand. But you should still tell someone who cares about you, because nobody can be healthy while in isolation.
• Find balance in everything. There can always be too much or too little of any one thing, but finding a happy medium is usually the healthiest choice. Oh - and please remember, you don't always have to be the MOST or the BEST or the BIGGEST at something. Just be perfect, wonderful Julianna Nicole.

 I love you infinity!*
Love,
Mommy

-----------
* "I love you infinity" is something we say to each other. It started when she was about three when I said, "I love you bigger than a house," which turned into a game of the biggest things we could name. Occasionally it switches to "i love you louder than a concert"-type comparisons, or numbers such as "I love you a hundred" back when she thought one hundred was a huge number. Eventually we run out of ways to "go bigger," so the first one to yell "I LOVE YOU INFINITY" wins.

Becky just wanted her daughter, Julianna, to have a good life. Not good in terms of possessions, but good in terms of how she treated herself, how she lived her life.  Becky's goal was for Julianna to love herself, no matter what. As you know, Bec made many mistakes in her life, or things that seemed like mistakes at the time. You may not have known that Becky also was very hard on herself for those mistakes, for many years. Looking back, she saw that she had wasted a lot of time being mad at herself. So she wanted to teach Juli to forgive herself, to treat herself kindly, no matter what.

She also wanted Juli to be adventurous. Becky herself was always a bit of a self-proclaimed sissy: she hated rollercoasters, driving fast, and even panicked when driving over water when she was younger. She didn't want Juli to grow up with those same fears. So she had Juli try new foods and new experiences. She intentionally talked up various activities, even homework, so that Julianna would approach those tasks with excitement, not hesitation. She viewed the world as an open game for her daughter to explore and play with.

Becky also had things that she wanted all of us to know. She wished that we could all be more accepting of our own disparities. She spent years fighting against external stereotypes and cookie-cutter labels inside herself, even up until her end. She had always thought that, if you held a label, you had to be perfect at the one thing that you were calling yourself. It took years for her to learn that it's okay to be a hypocrite, it's okay to change your mind, it's okay to not be a standard member of any one group.

Becky is gone, but if she could part with one concept, it would be this:
Love yourself. Love your mistakes and your regrets. Love your dreams and your goals. Love your quirks and your inconsistencies. Because when you love all of yourself - not just the pretty parts, or the public parts, or the pre-planned parts, but all of you - you are then able to love others as well. You have to speak kindly to yourself in order to breathe kindness into the world.

Love yourself.

An old diary entry

Found this in an old diary from 2009:
why does everything feel so hopeless? why am I so constantly overwhelmed w/ despair that I can't cope w/ life? how do normal people handle their problems? Does every1 else fight w/ a constant urge to run away? constant feelings of inadequacy? the fear that "I'll ruin my own life" ? how come I feel emotion so intensely only for other people? how come I can't ask for things for myself? will I ever be able to feel like I'm an adult? do I avoid responsibility because I'm scared of failing? will I ever trust anyone to stay and can I stop pushing everyone away even though I so desperately want them in? am I a bad mother because of all of this?

Boys don't cry, and girls don't play with worms

Studies have shown that, even with no parental influence pushing children towards gender-specific toys, girls tend to favor "girl toys" such as dolls and dress-up clothes, and boys tend to favor "boy toys" such as blocks and trucks. Girls have been known to use sticks as dolls in some cultures, where boys use those same sticks to build and knock down structures. This is perfectly natural, and normal. Females have that natural nurturing instinct, boys like to play rough. That is as much a proven fact as the statement "men have stronger upper bodies, naturally" and "women are curvy." The genders are different, and that is a good thing.

However, a problem arises when we tend to "genderize" our children's toys. How many times have you heard a dad say "Don't play with that, that's a girl toy!" to his son, or "Girls can't wear that color, it's only for boys. Sit down and act like a lady."? We've all heard it. But is it okay to say this to our children?

Children need to explore in order to learn. They should be provided with toys that suit all genders and stereotypes. It is not only normal for a boy to try on a dress, "play house," and pretend to be his mommy, it's healthy. He's imitating someone he respects, he's exploring his feelings in a different role besides himself, he's learning to pretend, he's empathizing, he's using his imagination.

It's healthy for a girl to play with trucks, climb on the jungle gym, and build block towers. She's role playing; she's exploring physics and cause-and-effect, she's fine-tuning her large- and fine-motor skills, and she's having fun.

If a child doesn't have the freedom to explore gender roles, stereotypes, professions, and ideas, how will he ever come to know who he is? How will she perfect her motor skills? How will he be able to connect with people who are different than he is?

Listen to me - no, listen to proven science and social studies: Your son will not "turn out gay" or "be ruined" or "be less of a man" if he wears pink, or holds baby dolls, or plays with girls. Your daughter will not "be a lesbian" or "have issues" if she loves Transformers and jumps off of the couch so often she bruises a rib, or - God forbid - learns to operate a weapon.

When you try to squeeze your child into your ideal, or society's ideal, of his or her gender, you are teaching your child that --

1. Who you want them to be is more important than who they already are.
2. Trying new, different things is a bad idea.
3. "Girls are bad" or "Boys are bad"
4. It's not okay to be different.
5. Who you are just isn't okay with some people, so you should change.

You are also laying the groundwork for hatred. Hatred of others, hatred of cultural groups, hatred of oneself for "not fitting in." You are planting some very bad seeds in your child when you do this to them.

So parents, give your son a doll - it might help him adjust to a future Big Brother role and make him more empathetic to other kids.  When your boy comes home crying, for goodness' sake, PLEASE, for the sake of his mental well-being, DO NOT tell him to "suck it up and be a man." Give him a hug, ask him what happened, and listen and empathize with him. Let him explore why he's crying, and what could have gone differently. Or just let him cry. Someday he may be a father with a son who happens to need a strong, sensitive role model to look up to and affirm that it's GOOD to be real about your emotions. Let your daughter buy those matchbox cars - she'll be driving someday, you know.

When your daughter asks you how to shoot that AK-74 you've mounted on your living room wall, teach her the basic safety rules, buy her a pair of ear muffs that fit, and take her to the range. And maybe start her on a .22 for now :). When she doesn't cry over a sad movie, or want to brush her hair, or show interest in the same books, music, and movies her 'girlfriends' are into, ask her what she likes and find out why. You might discover a great band and find out that - hey, your daughter is actually kind of cool.

When you're buying a birthday gift for a kid you barely know, don't be afraid to get blocks, animals, and cars for a girl, or books, dress-up clothes, and dollhouse toys for a boy. Their parents might not have bought it for them, but the kiddo may have wanted it all along and didn't know it.

And let your little girl wear pink and dress like a princess. Let your boy play in the dirt and taste bugs. Let your kids spend countless hours building play-doh creations and laughing at the word "underwear." Let them be kids! Let them explore who they are and be proud of their own personalities, gender roles, and preferences. Give them this room to explore themselves, and I guarantee you're giving them a great shot at growing up to be confident, unique individuals who don't just follow the leader. (And guess who gets to take the credit then? You do.)

Why I Don't Watch The News (written 5/2011)

I wish I could block the rampant Ugly in the world. I am SO SICK of seeing and hearing about all of the bad news. I don't WANT to know that a child was murdered, or that a mom died, or that a house fire killed a family. I have nightmares & flashbacks, stomach aches and dizziness, from every traumatic incident that I encounter in my day, whether or not it is similar to what happened to me or my loved ones. There is no "block" button to turn off these ugly things. I hate it! I absolutely despise, detest, abhor the darkness, the ugliness that is everywhere.

And I’m sick of the news channels, feeling that it’s their right to broadcast someone’s most private, painful moments. No, it is NOT our business that a Hollywood couple is divorcing. It is even LESS our business how the children are handling it. It is NOT okay for you to film or for me to view a family mourning in grief after their child was killed playing near a car. You newscasters, you heartless bastards…you sit there, feigning sorrow over a story you only care about because it gets you ratings. You jump on the public’s grief like vultures in the desert pounce on fresh meat. You prey on the hardships of others, and you do so gleefully.

And the people who watch it, who don’t even bother to send up a prayer of comfort for the people in the grief…you are just as bad. The news station sells the horror, and you scamper right up and purchase it like a kid purchases cotton candy at a fair- gleeful and hungry, relishing every bite. You gawk when passing a car accident, and exhibit only the tiniest sliver of sorrow over a family’s deepest tragedy. You purchase this product called Bad News and you bring it into the world, and do not kid yourself: you are partially at fault for the insensitivity of the world.

I don't watch the news. I absolutely never watch it, and I make a point of that…except at the gym the other night, during the last 20 minutes of my workout, I was unable to read anymore and my neck was killing me from looking anywhere but straight ahead...at the TVs. I finally gave up for the sake of my spine and stared straight ahead, trying to block out the images I was seeing and failing miserably. I was “treated” to extremely graphic images showing the aftermath of a cock fighting ring...a graphic, pained retelling of a family's grief over a child who was killed playing in the family truck...or more Bin Laden images. Three televisions, all showcasing the Ugly and the Evil of the world. I chose instead to angle my pained neck and instead stare at the wall behind the hideously massive meathead lifting weights, but it was always there in my peripheral vision. Only my anger and disgust with the world propelled me through those last 20 minutes, but I don't know if I'm any better off for it.

At least with printed media, I can click away or throw away the newspaper after viewing a headline. It's to the point where I can spot the words "dies" "murdered" "child" "year-old" "family" "tragedy" etc immediately and can turn away before I accidentally read more. But with visual media, or with people who feel it’s okay to talk about someone else’s tragedy as if it’s a soap opera,  I am subject to hearing about these travesties, these darknesses, these uglinesses that abound in our world and are perpetuated by people who find joy in discussing them.

I simply cannot handle it. I am an unabashedly tomboyish chick, who can kick your butt in video games, and get my hands dirty with the boys. I speak fluent sarcasm and can eviscerate or fascinate you with my well-honed writing abilities. I am self-sufficient, intelligent, confident and opinionated. But I am also extremely romantic, girly to a fault, silly, forgetful, self-deprecating, and sensitive. I'm a mommy. I'm a woman. I'm definitely part dude, but I'm still a woman, and I'm still the sensitive person that I have finally allowed myself to be. I'm still the little girl who endured unspeakable tragedy in my childhood and therefore hurts for every tragedy I encounter in my adulthood. I like who I am. I like the mix of dark and light that I have allowed myself to become over the years. I like that I can slam out a 1200 on my SATs and lock my keys in the car afterwards. I like that I can shoot a pistol with my boyfriend on Saturday afternoon and cry about a sad movie that evening. I am 100% comfortable with the enigma that I am and I don't see why people feel the need to try and pigeonhole me into one end of the spectrum or the other. I am no longer that girl who is always an extreme. I am not as cut-and-dry as you want me to be. Stop trying to break me of being the person I have fought so hard to become.

And it’s just not fair that I’m bombarded with the Ugly, everywhere. It’s not fair that people buy into it so wholeheartedly. It’s not fair that I have to endure nightmares and stomach aches and dizziness and terror just because someone felt that it was SOMEHOW okay for them to discuss a stranger's most painful moment. It’s not fair and it’s disgusting and I’m done. I want no part in it anymore.

Bucket List

Like most moms, I don't really spend enough time on myself. As I noticed that I was depressed and bored with the minutiae of my life, I began to seek ways to break up the tedium.

A few years ago, my friend Christa bought me this book called "You can do it! The merit badge handbook for grown-up girls." It's a really fun book with about 60 chapters, each chapter detailing a potential goal to accomplish - hobbies to try, dreams to pursue - and gives you a detailed way to try to accomplish this goal. Each chapter includes a "advice on how to get started" interview from someone experienced in that field, realistic checklists on how to get started, list on potential steps you might want to achieve (how to just try it out, how to get good at it, how to do it as a career), and a list of resources (websites, books, magazines, organizations) to check out for more information.

I've been tackling this book for the past month or two, chapter by chapter as they interest me. (I skipped right over "Starting a rock band" and "quilting" because they're of no interest to me, for example.) It's a really cute book, and it's definitely come a long way toward giving me a clearer picture of the goals I want to accomplish in my lifetime.

So, in the name of trying something new, this is the list I've made both from the book directly and inspired by my hobbies. These are things I want to do someday:

1. Write a novel. Complete it.
2. Get published online - opinion pieces, satire pieces, short stories
3. Knit a damn scarf and actually finish it and wear it
4. Tour America by car. Visit the Grand Canyons, the Pacific Ocean, and the Great Lakes for the first time. Revisit Yellowstone, Devil's Tower, the Black Hills, New England, and the deep south again. Mingle with the locals. Pick up an accent temporarily.
5. Write my life story. Let people read it. - WORKING ON THIS SLOWLY AND IN PIECES
6. Try out for a play - community theater
7. Act in a play
8. Take an improv class - DOING THIS NOW!
9. Take singing lessons
10. Take a bellydance class - they have these at the YMCA for only $15/8 weeks and it's a blast, I hear
11. Sing karaoke, in public. This terrifies me.
12. Learn a new language - I'm thinking German
13. Join the NRA. Buy a gun and practice target shooting. Become proficient with its use. GOT MY SMITH & WESSON M&P COMPACT 9MM IN 2013. RECEIVED MY CONCEALED CARRY PERMIT IN 2013.
14. Learn to play pool 
15. Play guitar again
16. Play volleyball again - DOING THIS EVERY FRIDAY VIA MEETUP AND AT THE YMCA
17. Sell some of the jewelry I've made - somewhere, anywhere
18. Attend wine tastings. Discover which wines I love
19. Throw a truly great party - wedding?
20. Learn to play chess
21. Try yoga - I'm gonna fart, I know it
22. Go fishing with Dan's Granddad
23. Be comfortable with jogging in public
24. Learn to change my car's oil and do other routine maintenance
25. Go camping. Sleep in a tent, build our own fire, fish and relax for days. Don't die.
26. Discover my family tree on both sides; trace my lineage back as far as possible
27. Learn to salsa dance - might as well put these hips and this Mexican heritage to good use
28. Learn to swing dance. Again, hips.
29. Visit Europe, don't die in a bathtub full of ice without my internal organs
30. Go to a concert festival
31. Go hunting with my dad
32. Read through the classics that I haven't read before
33. Give a public speech with a large audience, just to feel the rush
34. Study a topic that interests me. Write reports on that topic. I miss college.
35. Buy a brand new car, be the first person to drive it
36. Go scuba diving; don't get eaten by a shark or other marine creatures
37. Buy a house with my man. Make it our own.
38. Re-pierce my nose or dye my hair a crazy color
39. Spend a day at the spa and truly relax. Bridesmaids, you in?
40. Learn painting techniques. Attempt to paint something half-decent
41. Learn to play poker
42. Go on a cruise  - this is what we plan to do for our honeymoon
43. Spend a weekend away at a nice hotel. Drink, sleep in, have loud sex, wear comfy robes, steal the toilet paper.
44. Go to a major league baseball game and a Steelers game
45. Pay off my student loans - almost there!
46. Set up an investment portfolio. Profit at least $5 when it's all said and done.
47. Get front row seats to a band I truly love (done this with a few bands such as The Airborne Toxic Event - thanks Luke! I'm still sad that you were sick for this - but I want to do it with more!)
48. Sponsor a child and actually make the payments. Sorry, Abusa from Ethiopia! I hope you're still alive.
49. Drive a boat. Steer a boat? Whatever it's called. I'M ON A BOAT.
50. Go to a good play on Broadway

So, who's doing what with me? And what's on your bucket list?

Exercisegasm

Yesterday I was working out at the YMCA. I did a 30 minute circuit of strength training on my core, and then I moved to the elliptical. I had about 40 minutes until I had to pick my daughter up from school, so I set it for a 30-minute workout and picked the machine in the back corner.

I was shaky because I had really worked my abs, but I felt good. I love the rush that comes from a good, hard workout on the strength training circuit. But I needed to balance it with some cardio so I could go home sweaty and exhausted. So I got on the elliptical and threw on Pandora's "Pop Fitness" station.

I always use the "interval" setting on the elliptical because my personal trainer explained the benefits of doing interval: you pump up your heart and get working hard on the high section, and then you cool down on the low section. This lets you work out longer and gives your heart a much harder workout in a shorter time. It works really well for me because I like the regular breaks, and I feel accomplished every time I make it through a section. On the other programs that come on the machines, I get tired more quickly and slow down more regularly. With intervals, I get tired right at the end of the high-intensity section and then I get to cool down and relax. About 20 seconds from the end of the low-intensity section, I feel ready to go through a high section again. It works perfectly.

On high intensity, I jack the incline up to 10-15 with resistance around 10, and on the low intensity interval I keep the incline at about 4 or flat with about a 4-5 intensity. I find that moving it to a flat incline uses completely different muscles than an incline so I like switching it up so my legs don't get to enjoy muscle memory.

During the low section, if I'm having a kickass day, I tend to try to focus on my core while doing low-intensity reps. I take my hands off the bars and hold them in a punching stance which causes my abs to stabilize me. It also makes me feel more of a burn in my thighs. Sometimes I lower the intensity down to a 1 so that the movement is extremely easy to do, which causes my abs to work even harder to stabilize me. Then on the high intensity, I don't hold the bars; I instead put my hands on them with an open fist so that I can keep my balance and get an arm workout without using my arms to do the work my legs are supposed to be doing. Needless to say, my abs and arms are sore as hell today. It's great.

Anyway - this super crazy thing happened yesterday. Rihanna's "We Found Love" was playing. I hate her voice, I hate that song, but it definitely has a great beat for a good workout. I was about 1/3 of the way through a high-intensity section, basically jogging and pumping my arms like a psycho, when that part came on. You know...at 3:36 in this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg00YEETFzg . It just kept going and going and freaking going, and I had it in my head that I wouldn't stop pounding it hard until that section reached its crescendo. Probably because I thought that section was only about 8-16 beats.

So I kept at it. Finally, what felt like 40 beats later, the song went back to the chorus.

And as soon as that part finished and I was able to mentally slow down a tiny bit, I felt this HUGE rush come over me. A chill went from my head all the way down my spine, and I felt this sudden.... I don't know how to explain it without sounding stupid... I felt this sudden rush of anger or arrogance mixed with this feeling of invulnerability. I'm glad nobody was watching me because I think I looked ridiculous. I looked at the machine and pretty much scoffed at it, thinking "You don't win this time. Bitch. I conquered you." I think it was a rush of testosterone, or adrenaline, and it was amazing. The high that I got at that moment powered me through the rest of the workout and into the rest of my evening. I felt like I had conquered the world by pushing through the pain that I was in. My body didn't let me down. I felt strong and in charge and un-defeatable. It was friggin' amazing.

I have no doubt that the music itself helped to fuel the emotional response that I felt at that moment. The building and building and eventual cresting of that section felt like a jet pack on my back to get through it. I need to listen to more music like this while I work out, music with predictable, hard beats and intense ups. Suggestions welcome.

It's been about 12 hours and I still feel like I'm the king of the friggin' world. But oh man, am I sore.

Re-Evaluating Friendships

I have a lifelong habit of keeping bad friendships in my life. As a people-pleaser who's constantly fighting a battle with my self-esteem, I have repeatedly fallen into the trap of making friends with people that I don't actually like. I've had friends whose personalities run the gamut between indifferent and abusive. I've had friends who know nothing about me, friends who don't care when I'm down, friends who are too busy for me. I've been there for people who only think about me when I'm around, who wouldn't care if I got into a car accident, or who are embarrassed by me.

I stayed in these friendships and relationships because I didn't value myself. I thought that these people were as good as it gets. I thought that 'some friends are better than no friends!' and I still struggle with that silly mentality. But over the past few years, I've been taking strides toward improving my life. I've taken a holistic approach, improving various aspects of my life. I've improved my diet and have been getting into good exercise habits. I've tried new things and have taken up new hobbies. I've spoken up for myself at work and with acquaintances. I've gotten more organized and less lazy (this one comes and goes...). And I've also started re-evaluating my friendships.

I've come to realize that I tend to befriend the same types of people:

• Talkers who only want me around when they need someone to listen to their problems. These are the high-stress people. I make a good friend to them because I like to listen and I know how to commiserate. But they don't usually reciprocate as good friends to me.
• People with no other friends, who lean on me for everything. I feel guilty if I don't hang out with them often enough because they haven't taken steps to meet other people.
• Negative people who always seem to want to argue about the most insignificant things, and who never seem to have a good word to say about anything. These people just seem dissatisfied with themselves or with their lives, and it comes out in their attitudes.

 I realize that these friendships are detrimental to my mental health and to my happiness. I've taken some steps to cut those people out of my life. For example, I ended a friendship with an acquaintance that I see regularly through work, because the 'friendship' was just filled with resentment, argumentativeness, and anger. We constantly argued and were only nice when we were having very casual discussions. Anything more intense than casual (like subjects such as politics, religion, science, feelings, or even I.T., etc) became ugly, heated arguments. This friend took everything that I said as a personal attack, though that wasn't my intention. I was constantly defending myself and then accusing the friend of doing and saying hurtful things. It was exhausting and I repeatedly tried to back off, but we kept falling back into a casual friendship. It was absolutely strained and exhausting. We've now stopped speaking altogether because anything in between was just a nightmare.

This year on facebook, I finally unfriended someone I used to call my best friend. She and I used to have a lot in common - beliefs, backgrounds, family situations. We had different personalities - she was everyone's darling, who never said a word against anyone (and never stood up for me when her other friends insulted me to her). But time changes people. Now she's part-silicon and appears to be nothing of the person I used to know. Her facebook was full of humble-brags about how she got hit on constantly, about how often she worked out (to keep her boxy figure), about how great of a mother she was (although she always hated kids and never wanted any). Back when we were friends, everyone thought she was a sweet, likeable person. But I knew her very intimately, and I saw her without her mask. In reality she was actually quite condescending, extraordinarily narcissistic, and not at all loyal. Removing her from my facebook friends list was one of the most liberating things I've done in awhile. It was like I was finally standing up for Younger Me, saying "You don't need people like this. You never did, and you never will. End the charade." She probably didn't even notice I was gone from her friends list.

I unfriended my daughter's father, because the sight of him makes me remember how badly I've treated myself over the years that I was with him. I put up with so much verbal and emotional abuse from him, and more manipulation than should be possible to tolerate.

Friendships and acquaintances like the ones I endured above are simply not worth the stress.


So I've asked myself: What do I want from a friend? And the answers weren't surprising, but the lack of true friends within that criteria depressed me.

• I want friends who are interested in my life. Just typing this makes me cringe because it makes me feel arrogant and selfish. But that's a false mentality. In fact, everyone (including me, damnit) deserves a friend who genuinely cares about her hardships.
• I want friends that I have something in common with. I don't need someone who shares all the same hobbies or beliefs as me; that's not what I mean. But too often I've found myself calling people "friend" despite the fact that not only do we have nothing in common, we also have nothing to talk about. I don't know how I become friends with these people, but they're not worth the awkwardness. I need people that, even if we don't have any similar hobbies, we have similar personalities and can talk about things that we both care about, we can joke around, and we can have fun being together.
• I want friends that are fun. I want people who want to go places, who want to try new things, people who are upbeat and fun to be around. I'm not saying I need wild party people, but I don't want to surround myself with people who just want to hole up and watch TV or something.  I want friends who like themselves and who like to have fun.

Since I started trying to treat myself better, I've managed to make a few healthy friendships through church, friend-of-a-friend meetings, and through family:

• Clever, interesting artsy people who never spill judgmental bullshit, and who expand my worldview. These are my girls who are there for me when life is boring, when life is insane, and when we all just want to sit around BSing. I don't see them often enough because none are very local, but when they are around, life is sweet.
•  Balanced, calm people who can logically pull things apart and explain the nuances of various viewpoints without being condescending - mainly, my fiance. His logic and calm are such a powerful presence in my life every day. Another great friend lives about an hour away but we go to some shows and events together, and it's always nice when he's around.
• Extended family that I can talk and empathize with about our crazy families and our kiddos.

I'm hoping that by treating myself better - by not chastising myself for admitting that I deserve happiness - that I can step out and make friends with people who are good to me and who will let me be good to them in return. I'm hoping that I can somehow kindly end the crappy friendships or let them fade away. I'm hoping that in a few years of treating myself like I'm worth happiness - AND I AM - that I can find happiness in my choices. Here's to hoping!

A Church Sign Double-Whammy!

My favorite church has a double-sided sign, and yesterday I actually pulled over to take a picture because the irony was just too great. I'm sure I'm using the term "irony" incorrectly but I don't even care. This is too good.

On one side, the sign says, "To belittle is to be little." Basically, they're saying that if you insult and belittle people, you are weak. A fair point. 

But then on the other side, they actually belittle you as you drive by:

"If you are unkind, you are the wrong kind." I get it - they're trying to make a play on words and give a little inspirational message about kindness. But using your church's billboard to call passersby "wrong" is probably not the best way to get them to step inside your doors. It probably IS the best way to get them to roll their eyes and join a cult. Probably. I dunno.

I've proposed some alternate church signs that they'll probably use in the future, if they finally decide to stop beating around the bush.

Romans 8:31, Victory Baptist Style.

JOIN OUR CLUB AND WE'LL BE NICE TO YOU!

Verily, verily, I sayeth unto thee, thou shalt speaketh in terminology that confuseth the average man so that he might see the errors of his ways and come unto you, humbled, and shall be washed in the blood of the lamb. Macbeth.

Cohabiting: Is it okay?

As an unmarried mother, I've endured plenty of judgmental comments from people, both Christian and non-Christians alike, because I'm not married to my child's father. I've also gotten comments because I "claim to be a Christian," yet I live with the man I love despite the fact that we aren't married. My best friend was recently insulted at her bank, where the bank employee essentially told her that having a joint bank account with someone you're not married to is a major risk - strongly implying that any issues with her joint bank account that she has with her boyfriend are a result of them being unmarried. This same best friend was also insulted by a former close friend that she used to nanny for, who made her feel like a bad Christian for living with her boyfriend before marriage. I myself have been lectured, insulted, and have received various 'loving hints' from Christians about how I'm clearly not trusting in God  because I'm living with my fiance before marriage.

It turns out, those Christians who insulted me were right. These are the things I've learned from searching the internet for websites debunking Cohabiting as being non-Biblical:

1. Every time a couple lives together before marriage, they have sex. The term "cohabiting" (living together) is absolutely synonymous with "sex before marriage," 100% of the time. According to this website, at least.  If you live with your boyfriend or girlfriend, you're gonna bang, even if you've decided not to. I think there's like, an evil demon-elf that sneaks in to cohabiting couples' houses and makes them 'do it' when they're asleep. I hear it doesn't feel as nice as when you're awake but at least the little guy cleans up for you both afterward.
   
2. People who live together before marriage are bad with money.  Obviously you moved in together because it was more affordable, but "the majority of cohabitants do eventually break up and economics are obviously not an overwhelming impediment then, so why allow it to become a controlling factor from the start[?]"  Basically, you moved in together to save money, but you WILL split up, and money doesn't keep you together then, so you're stupid and bad with money.
   
3. Conversely, when you get married, you automatically become good with money. You never overdraw your checking account, and you always pay all of your bills on time. You always consult one another and various websites and experts before making any financial decisions, and you never regret purchases. Marriage is awesome for your wallet! And financial problems are definitely not the number one reason for divorce. Nope.
   
4. Living together is an insult to the institution of marriage. And interesting note about that institution: you and I were probably unaware of this, but even when Jesus was walking the earth, people were actually still required to get a certificate of marriage in the United States of America. Their marriages were only valid with that certificate from the U.S. government. All marriages that took place without a United States Certificate of Marriage were invalid. Pretty cool, eh? Go 'merica!
   
5. Living together before marriage is stupid. Trying anything out before you 'buy' it is obviously a bad idea. Anyone who has purchased a car sight-unseen from Craigslist can attest that if something appears to be great upon first sight, it's going to be great; no questions.
   
   Obviously, if you both love God, then you're 100% perfect for each other. Personality differences, personal beliefs, financial differences, sexual mis-matches, bad habits, and other incompatibilities don't exist. All it takes to make a marriage work is for it to be "right in God's eyes" which means that you have a United States Certificate of Marriage BEFORE you get naked together. Even if he's verbally abusive or an alcoholic, or if she's a withholding jerk or if she has emotional issues that cause her to be unstable, it doesn't matter. Because you are married in God's eyes! Make it work!
   
   Trust me, every single thing that you need to know about the person you're dating can be ascertained without having to commit the atrocity of living together. You actually don't ever need to set foot inside of the same building as your partner. Simply ask your partner's mother if they were neat and tidy, and quiz your partner's exes and you'll know everything you need to know about how easy this person is to live with. You don't need to be a heathen to find out if you're compatible!
   
6. The issues that plague non-married couples don't even affect married couples. There have been 0 documented cases of abusive husbands in the history of mankind; there are only abusive boyfriends. Never in history has a man treated his wife badly. Not once has a wife cried herself to sleep due to abject loneliness. That kind of thing only happens to the Unmarrieds (especially The Gays).
   
7. If you marry someone, you automatically become sexually compatible. I know I have never met a married couple where the man wanted sex more than his wife was willing to give it to him, and who either felt lonely or gypped or cheated because of this. That simply doesn't happen. Apparently when both parties put on their matching wedding rings, a special hormone is released in each person's Dirty-Before-Marriage Parts that causes instant, whole, complete sexual attraction and compatibility, forever and ever, til death do they part.
   
8. If you were such a heathen that you had kids before marriage, your bastard child will automatically become a menace to society with no moral basis and no ability to contribute to society. Keep your legs closed until after marriage or you'll give birth to the next Hitler or Housewife of New Jersey.
   
9. Until you have a marriage ceremony, you're not committed to one another. You're only kinda-sorta-barely-into-each-other. Only people who have paid for a $20,000 party complete with flowers and catered meals are committed to each other. Everyone else is a jackass who's faking it.
   
10. Remember that kid in your Biology class who threw off the curve for everyone else, because he studied or was a friggin' genius and somehow managed to get like a 99% when everyone else got like a 72%? You hated that asshole because, if he hadn't scored so high, everyone would've gotten a better bump in their scores. But because that jerk was so smart, everyone else was screwed.
    
    People who live together before marriage are just like that jerk who scored so high. You see, they don't have to do all the stuff that the "good" students of marriage did. They didn't stay pure until marriage (because as we noted above, every couple living together before marriage always screws like bunnies, like 30 times a day), they didn't go bankrupt to hold a wedding, they didn't wait to kiss until their wedding day. They cheated, and they still get all the benefits of a relationship! That's NOT FAIR! HOW DARE THEY still claim to be happy, despite the fact that they aren't legally married? How DARE they pretend that they're emotionally fulfilled with their partners? It's disgusting.

So basically, if you even THINK of living together before marriage, you:

1. Are slutty
2. Are definitely bad with money
3. Are a bad Christian
4. Are a bad American
5. Have no faith in God to pay your bills for you
6. Are too concerned with sex to be a good spouse anyway
7. Are destined to have a child out of wedlock
8. Are a bad parent
9. Are uncommitted to one another
10. Are cheating at life.

Me.

Do you ever just get sick of pretending? Sick of pretending to be fine, pretending to be a better person than you are, of pretending that things are perfect when they're not? Don't you get sick of holding on to what you know you should, of balancing everything of yours while juggling everything that belongs to others, while standing on an impossibly-small, tilted pedestal that you built with your own two hands, that you balance on while painting yourself with primer just to cover up your flaws? Don't you want to just turn everything upside down and shock, disappoint, scare, disgust, hurt everyone you know, just to say that you finally did what you wanted to do? Don't you just want to be YOU, only you?

Don't you ever just want to be your base, carnal self, doing exactly what you want to do, just for yourself...Bucking the societal norms and tossing caution to the wind? Don't you want to just indulge, try something new, make some big fucking regrets? Don't you want to break the law, break some hearts, and break out of yourself for the first time in your life? Don't you want to get so high that you can't even complete a thought, but you can laugh and laugh until you can't even imagine crying?

Don't you want to get so far out of yourself that you don't even remember who you used to be, if only for a time period? Don't you want to escape everything and be free and clear of constraints and pain, of fear and folly, of ideology and creeds?

Don't you ever just want to scream "FUCK IT!" and just throw it all out there: everything you are, everything you desire, everything you are unhappy with, everything that hurts you... Just put it right the fuck out there, for the world to see, and if they judge you, so fucking what? Fuck them. Fuck them and their conditional adoration. Fuck them and their expectations. Fuck them and their beliefs, their seriousness, their cookie-cutters. Fuck everything.

Don't you want to run the fuck away and lose contact with every single person you know? Just disappear, reinvent yourself completely, and never look back? Don't you want to throw away all of the bullshit and the rules, the ideas and the promises, the responsibility and the ties holding you down, the lies and the painful truths, and just BE? Don't you want to disappear so that you can meld and mold and redo and restart, try and test and fail and flail, scream and dance and cry and be exposed? Don't you want to be gone from where you used to be? Don't you want today to be history?

I do.

My disenchantment with Christians

One of the many experiences I've had that made me lose my faith in Christians as the 'good people' I always thought they were.

I was in college. I was driving home from the store when I saw an ambulance in a yard. It had been raining that week, and the ambulance was stuck in the mud. There was no immediate emergency - they had responded to a distress call and had taken care of the person they had been called to check out. They didn't need to get her to the hospital; they needed to resume their shift. But the ambulance was stuck in her muddy front yard.

I pulled over and asked if I could help. The guy responded "Do you happen to know where you can find about 5 strong guys?" In fact, I did. I was attending Christian college about two blocks away. I told them I knew a bunch of Christian guys who would be glad to help. And I thought I was right.

I drove up the road and went to the dorm right next to my dorm, our 'brother dorm.' In the lobby, I asked the dozen or so guys if any could come help push an ambulance out of a yard a few blocks away. Nobody came. I stayed there for about 20 minutes, asking around, to see if I could get just a few guys to come push the ambulance out. It would only take about 10 minutes if a few guys came!

Out of the 30 I asked, one came. The rest were "too busy." One guy even said "I just don't feel like it, they'll be fine." His name was Joe V. He recently married a friend of my sister's, one of the sweetest girls I'd ever met. Lucky girl.

I went back with that guy and he, and I, and the two EMTs, pushed the ambulance out of the mud. No thanks to my Christian college classmates.

Lousy

Lousy:

lousy

mid-14c., lousi, "infested with lice," from louse + -y

 

 

 

Yeah. That's what "lousy" really means. Get lice ONCE and you'll agree.

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Disclaimer: I have not been paid by any company to review the products in this review. I am writing this review solely for the purpose of sharing what worked and what didn't work for us. We did not receive any free products from any lice shampoo companies.

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My daughter came home from summer camp with head lice in June. It was my first experience with lice, having been lucky enough to avoid catching lice as a child.

My daughter is 6 years old and has very dark, shoulder-length hair that is not only full, but also thick. She's also a bit of a complainer and a hypochondriac, so when she complained of an itchy scalp, I assumed she was just sweaty. It didn't even occur to me to check for lice, because I'd never had them and I didn't even really consider them to be a real threat.

By the time I thought to check, her head was teeming in lice. The first night we discovered them, I ran out to CVS and picked up two containers of NIX lice shampoo. We spent the evening in our bathroom. Starting around 7pm, I soaked her hair with the watery, stinky NIX which dripped everywhere, burned our eyes and made my hands itch. The NIX came with gloves, but got in the way of coating each of her stands with the medication. After sitting for the required ten minutes, we had to wash her hair, with NO shampoo per the instruction on the bottle. She screamed the whole time because I was trying to get it out of her hair myself with the shower head, while trying to keep it from getting in her eyes.

I then spent the next five hours coming through her hair and finding hundreds of dead lice, then picking out (by hand) thousands of lice eggs. I think there was at least one egg for every 5-10 strands of hair. The instructions said that NIX doesn't kill eggs, just lice, so you have to remove each egg or they can hatch within 7-10 days and start the cycle all over again, each louse laying up to 6 eggs a day.

I'm not going to lie. I cried. I cried a lot. I was disgusted and upset and itchy. My neck was killing me from looking down, my eyes were sore, and my arms were tired. She was miserable and uncomfortable. I was irritable and angry that she couldn't sit still. She eventually fell asleep. Then I got up and did my own lice treatment and found that I too had a few - probably only about a dozen dead lice and presumably eggs, which I couldn't pick out of my own hair. We were in hell. The lice treatment made my scalp itchy and dry, and the sight of the lice made me itchy for months afterward.

Every night for two weeks, I'd come through her hair and pick out eggs. Some nights I gave up, still seeing eggs but being unable to get them all. I only got about 4 hours of sleep every night. You're only allowed to use the NIX (and walmart brand, which we'd also bought at some point) 10 days apart, so if some lice came up in between, there was really nothing we could do to get them out except to over-pesticide.

My fiance then brought home LiceMD, a different kind of lice shampoo with no harsh chemicals. He'd read good reviews about it online and said it supposedly works better than the stuff we were using. Basically it suffocates the lice and kills the eggs. You still have to pick them out of the hair, but the lice won't come back alive and the eggs will die. You can re-apply if necessary as much as you want, and you wash it out with warm water and any shampoo - so she could wash it out herself. This shit works. I'm not gonna say it's perfect, because her lice did come back a few times throughout the summer since there was an outbreak at her summer camp. But there were weeks when she was completely lice-free and now that she's not at that summer camp, she doesn't have lice anymore.

I am still suffering from an extremely dry scalp, three months after using the NIX. The skin behind my ears peels regularly and the only solution is a daily application of medicated lotion. I keep thinking I have lice, only to find out that it's just a dry scalp. I definitely don't recommend NIX or RID or any of the other brands - LiceMD was the only brand that was easy to use, didn't have an odor, and actually worked. Also, as a side note - my hair looks amazing after using it. It super-conditions each follicle and turned my semi-wavy, semi-flat, semi-curly hair into super-curls for about two weeks after using this stuff. Crazy right?

Over the three months of pure hell from lice, we developed a method. I'll share it here because I know I searched youtube and blogs for an easy way to do this, and couldn't find all the information in one place.

The ideal comb for lice removal: a flea comb

1. You will need:
   -Good lighting, like a lamp or a bright overhead light.
   -A bottle of LiceMD.
   -A towel around your kid's neck to prevent drips onto her clothing
   -A comfortable seat in a room with a dry floor.
   -A stool or a shorter chair for your child to sit in so you can see the top of her head.
   -Ponytail holders - the thin kind, not the huge ones you use at the gym to keep a big ponytail back
   -A sink or dry surface to set dirty combs on
   -At least one regular comb that you don't mind getting lice and lice shampoo on
   
2. Comb through the hair. Get rid of any knots. This will help with all future steps.
3. Section the hair into three sections using ponytail holders: top of the head, middle of the head, and leave the bottom section (nape of the neck and sides by ears) loose.
4. Apply a small amount of LiceMD to one section at a time. Comb it through the hair. Apply more in sections until the hair is completely covered. If you comb it through instead of using your hands, you won't have to use as much. Start with the nape, move to the back and sides of the head, and finish with the top of the head. Come through again to make sure it's evenly distributed.
5. Put the hair into 10-20 sections, depending on its thickness. With my daughter, I did about 5 tiny ponytails on top, five on each side, and five in the back. I then used a hair clip to clip together all the sections from the top half of her head that would into the clip. The more that are out of the way, the better.
6. Break out the lice comb. I got a long-handled flea comb from K-mart for $5, because it was more comfortable to hold and was a more natural shape than the one that came with the shampoo. Take one section at a time out of the ponytail holder and comb through it, getting rid of any lice and removing nits (eggs) as you see them. When you're done with that section, put it back in a ponytail and move on to the next section.
7. Wash the lice brush and comb. I'm still not sure how to get the lice out from between the comb tines. I just soaked them for awhile and then wiped from the spine out to the tips with a cloth that I then threw away while gagging.
8. Have the kiddo shower and wash her hair, helping if necessary. The LiceMD has a texture almost like Vaseline, so it may make your hair water-resistant. One or two shampoos may be necessary to get rid of the LiceMD.
9. Towel dry your kid's hair and comb through with a regular comb. Go back through with the lice comb, making sure you get rid of everything.
10. For the next week, go through the kiddo's hair and check for eggs. Repeat all steps if necessary.

I wish I could say that there was one magical, easy way to get rid of all lice. There's not. But I definitely recommend LiceMD and a good flea comb, along with maybe some alcohol (for you, not the kiddo) after a long night of nit-picking (yes, that's where the term comes from).

Chores for Money?

My fiance and I have a six year old daughter. She's in first grade and is certainly old enough to do her part around the house,  and has theoretically been doing so since she was around 4.  I wasn't raised with chores, but I certainly see the value of them now that I'm a parent. And I definitely saw the results of not having had chores as a child when I went off to college and didn't know how to clean up after myself, do laundry, or wash dishes. I still don't know if my roommate from freshman year was ever found under the pile of laundry and moldy dishes that I allegedly I left on her bed.

I've been trying to get more structure around the house, so I decided that a chore system would help get her on track and give her some predictability during the week. Never missing the opportunity for a potential cute craft idea that I can bastardize, use for a week and then discard, I eagerly checked Pinterest and googled some blogs on the topic. That's when I realized that there are differing viewpoints in regard to whether chores, and payments for chores, are even a good idea.
Apparently, some parents don't believe that their children should do chores. Most of these parents on these blogs appeared to be focused on raising beautiful people who dress fashionably and carry themselves well in polite company. These are probably the people who have "help" around the house and who dismissed the idea of breastfeeding because it makes certain parts less perky. These are probably the same people who give their kids $20 for losing a damn tooth, or who buy their kids brand new cars just for graduating high school. These are the people whose children are brats as kids and jerks as adults. Puh-lease. Is that how I want my child to behave? Uh, no. If I wanted someone to eat my food, make messes, waste my money, and inconvenience me for hours on end after a long day at work, I'd be dating a jobless musician with mommy issues. NEXT.

So I moved to some different blogs. These particular people believed that a child should do chores, but they should be paid in return for doing them. If they don't do their chores, they won't get the cash. They argued that a chores-for-cash system teaches the value of a dollar and the value of hard work. A kiddo can learn how much a dollar is worth, exactly how much you can buy with a dollar, and how long it takes to save up for something big. "This could be a useful, concrete way to teach my daughter about money," I thought. "She can use her chore money to learn how to count change, to budget, to estimate (with inflation) exactly how much it'll cost for her to move the heck out of the house the minute she turns 18..." and I began to fantasize about retiring early and touring the country in a giant RV while mixing medications and singing along with old Willie Nelson songs.

But then I saw some other well-versed arguments from some other bloggers. "Your child should do chores because they are expected, not because she'll get paid for them," they said. "Paying your child for things she should already be doing teaches her that she should only do things for a reward." Holy cow. This made sense to me, too! And this made the idea of paying your child for chores seem like nothing more than thinly-disguised spoiling.
I immediately recalled the many horrible children we've encountered, who have had this arrogant, unreasonable sense of entitlement and utter disregard for money. These are the 10-year-olds with iphones and $200 sneakers. These are the 4-year-olds who use the latest Nintendo DS as cupholders for their BPA-free compost-able sippy cups that are Etsy-labelled with names like "Rainshine Skylove" and "Spirited Joy Goddess." These are the children who are shocked that my child doesn't have the sneakers that light up, change colors in the wind, and turn into hover-crafts that deliver kids to their moms' SUVs when the wifi-connected shoe-sensors detect a sexual predator within 7 miles. These are the children of affluent, loving but clueless parents who think the only way to show your child love is to give him anything he wants and to never tell him no. Yikes!

I read on, happy at the idea of finding people who, like me, want to raise responsible, hard-working children: "Paying your child to pull her own weight will set her up for a lifetime of entitlement, of arrogance, of thanklessness!" I nodded my head, tears streaming down my face, my soul singing 90s pop in agreement.
Suddenly, terrible scenarios played through my mind: "If I pay my child to do chores, she'll grow up to be the kind of person who - oh my God - who joins a union, doesn't work unless someone's watching, and then goes on strike for not getting paid well enough to barely work!" Oh, the horror. I couldn't tolerate that thought. Even typing it makes me shudder. 

So I was decided. She would do chores for the joy of doing chores alone! No free lunch for you, missy.
And then I remembered how much I hate doing chores.

And I remembered telling myself when I got pregnant that I would try to see the opportunity to have fun in every situation.
I remembered being a kid and how even the simplest of rewards got me to work hard and to have fun doing so, with that glittery light of reward at the end of the tunnel.

My second grade teacher in Laramie, Wyoming had a marble jar method of classroom management. Every time we were quiet in the halls or if we all did exceptionally well on a test, she would put a marble in the jar. Every time we were loud in the hallway or if we misbehaved as a group, she would remove a marble from the jar. When the jar was too full to close the lid, we got to have a classroom party. I think we had a total of two parties that year, but we worked our butts off for those two parties and it felt gooooood when we finally got to party hard with our juice boxes and Gushers Fruit-like Snacks DURING A SCHOOL DAY.

So I threw away the mental chains, stood up, and aloud to my empty living room, said, "To heck with it! I'm going to come up with MY OWN IDEA!" Then I threw my laptop against a wall, shattering it to a million pieces that immediately lit on fire and burnt fluorescent pink. (This blog entry was delivered via carrier pigeon, smoke signals and morse code.)

Creative juices flowed through me like three volcano Gorditas through a barely-former vegan.

I cleaned up and immediately got to work on a hybrid of the two ideas, which will allow my kid to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment from completing a task, but that will also let her earn some dough to buy herself troll dolls, or Pillow People stuffed animals, or Ninendo Duck Hunt game, or whatever the heck kids want these days.

Behold, the mighty Marble Jar!

Bow to the List of Chores, each task worth a different number of marbles based on difficulty!

Shake with fright and awe at my ingenius organizational system!

Now, calm down. It's just a simple chore tool.

And here's how it works: When the jar is full, she earns a dollar amount that she can then spend or save. Right now it's $5 for an entire jar - enough that it's worth the effort, but not so much that she's making the same pay as a CEO who comes into work for two hours a year just so he can claim his stock options.
So far, about a month in, it's working. She loves earning marbles and hasn't spent the $15 she's made yet. Some days, she doesn't do any chores except the ones that are required Other days, she does chores without being asked - sometimes running to the chart jar to see how much she just earned, other times forgetting about her reward altogether but basking in the glow of a job well-done. (She is especially proud when she cleans her teeny, tiny, sparse bedroom.)
I'm interested to hear how households with more kids function with chore duties. I'm also interested to see if my kiddo will continue to enjoy chores or if it will become a quest for external rewards.