Sunday, December 23, 2012
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Stranger than Fiction
So, last night Tim and I were in bed talking after watching a television show that included several well-endowed women. This is the conversation that ensued:
Me: I can be bosomy. If you pinch and tape and hoist enough.
Tim: (seemingly unconvinced) Sure.
Me: Well, it's just lucky for you that I've gained weight over the years. I'm almost twice as bosomy as I was when we got married.
Tim: (reaches over and rubs my stomach) That's true. You've grown in several ways since we were first married.
Me: (gasping) You can NOT rub my belly when you say that!
Tim: I'm just saying... well...you take the good, you take the bad, you take 'em both and there you have...
Both of us are laughing as Tim continues.
Tim: There's a time you gotta go and show you're growing, now you know...
Me: that you're the fat girl wife. The fat girl wife.
A new pilot could be in the works. =)
And please, ladies who are kind and loving and naturally defensive of each other --there's no need to rebuke my husband. He always worries about the public jerk-o-meter when I post these things. I'm not saying it would be good for everyone but a relationship built on unconditional love and mutual degradation works for us. The former allows for the latter quite nicely and holy crap do we laugh a lot because of it!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
A Little PEEved
Okay. I have held my tongue as long as I can.
There is a very serious women's health issue which must be addressed.
I have a strong opinion on the matter. You're shocked. I know.
Here's the deal, I understand that many will oppose my view. I understand that many of you have held your
belief for years, maybe even a lifetime, and have difficulty entertaining any other option. I understand that for some of you it is an issue of personal experience. I also understand that many of you hold your view based on the input of your own mother or some other woman whom you hold in high esteem. I am taking all of that into consideration when I say...
PLEASE! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD JUST SIT ON THE DANG PUBLIC RESTROOM TOILET ALREADY!
Look, I get it! Truly, I do. No doubt my mom nursed many a sore back having hoisted me awkwardly over a Penney's Outlet toilet seat while warning in a strained voice "Don't touch anything!" And I tried to maintain due diligence as a young woman; hovering in such unnatural form and hoping the angle of my precarious squat would provide the urine stream a proper trajectory without, god forbid, overshooting right into the back of my own jeans.
Then gaining a few (ahem) pounds over the years without the foresight to simultaneously build upper body strength in preparation only proved to exacerbate the problem. And yes, I admit it. I have used the handicap bathroom simply for the value of the hand rail. But I did so in protest against my own conscience while tortured by the possibility that an actual handicapped person could enter at any moment and have to wait for me to walk, able-bodied, out of their stall. ugh.
But there was a day some 10 odd years ago that saved me. The day of my release. Dr. Oz (back on his Oprah cameo days) said that it was okay to sit on the toilet seat. Specifically, he said that any person with an uncompromised immune system can sit on a public toilet seat and not incur any great harm. It's all the things you touch with your hands in the bathroom that will get you, not the non-porous donut ring upon which you set yourself.
And so began my life of bathroom freedom. I sit. Yes, ladies. I do. Full on contact -donut ring to derriere. I am unafraid. EXCEPT for one small thing and this is where all of you who choose to hover your haunches come in. (And where I, for no logical reason break into prose.)
If you must squat, then please clean the pot.
For no one, I dare quibble
Wants to sit in your dribble!
Don't misunderstand me. There are convenience store restrooms between here and my home town of Atlanta, GA that are lucky I don't line my kids up in the middle of the potato chip aisle and yell "Aim high!" because the funk and filth are too much for even me. But in most reasonably managed establishments it's really not that bad.
Having patronized one such establishment in recent months, I have had more than enough opportunity and trust me, MORE than enough cause to address this situation. I know how hard it can be to get centered especially if you are fighting quivering thighs but seriously, why does your fear of toilet seats have to haunt the next occupant? Maybe it was little Johnny and he just barely makes it over the rim as it is. So be it but you're standing right there. You know he missed. You're going to wash your hands and follow it up with antibacterial hand gel anyway so just give it wipe. That's all I'm asking.
Ladies, I respect your right to choose. But please, please, for those of us who aren't so cushy with our tushy, don't let your hyper hiney hygienics leave the rest of us singing with the Soggy Bottom Boys.
Diatribe over. =)
There is a very serious women's health issue which must be addressed.
I have a strong opinion on the matter. You're shocked. I know.
Here's the deal, I understand that many will oppose my view. I understand that many of you have held your
belief for years, maybe even a lifetime, and have difficulty entertaining any other option. I understand that for some of you it is an issue of personal experience. I also understand that many of you hold your view based on the input of your own mother or some other woman whom you hold in high esteem. I am taking all of that into consideration when I say...
PLEASE! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD JUST SIT ON THE DANG PUBLIC RESTROOM TOILET ALREADY!
Look, I get it! Truly, I do. No doubt my mom nursed many a sore back having hoisted me awkwardly over a Penney's Outlet toilet seat while warning in a strained voice "Don't touch anything!" And I tried to maintain due diligence as a young woman; hovering in such unnatural form and hoping the angle of my precarious squat would provide the urine stream a proper trajectory without, god forbid, overshooting right into the back of my own jeans.
Then gaining a few (ahem) pounds over the years without the foresight to simultaneously build upper body strength in preparation only proved to exacerbate the problem. And yes, I admit it. I have used the handicap bathroom simply for the value of the hand rail. But I did so in protest against my own conscience while tortured by the possibility that an actual handicapped person could enter at any moment and have to wait for me to walk, able-bodied, out of their stall. ugh.
But there was a day some 10 odd years ago that saved me. The day of my release. Dr. Oz (back on his Oprah cameo days) said that it was okay to sit on the toilet seat. Specifically, he said that any person with an uncompromised immune system can sit on a public toilet seat and not incur any great harm. It's all the things you touch with your hands in the bathroom that will get you, not the non-porous donut ring upon which you set yourself.
And so began my life of bathroom freedom. I sit. Yes, ladies. I do. Full on contact -donut ring to derriere. I am unafraid. EXCEPT for one small thing and this is where all of you who choose to hover your haunches come in. (And where I, for no logical reason break into prose.)
If you must squat, then please clean the pot.
For no one, I dare quibble
Wants to sit in your dribble!
Don't misunderstand me. There are convenience store restrooms between here and my home town of Atlanta, GA that are lucky I don't line my kids up in the middle of the potato chip aisle and yell "Aim high!" because the funk and filth are too much for even me. But in most reasonably managed establishments it's really not that bad.
Having patronized one such establishment in recent months, I have had more than enough opportunity and trust me, MORE than enough cause to address this situation. I know how hard it can be to get centered especially if you are fighting quivering thighs but seriously, why does your fear of toilet seats have to haunt the next occupant? Maybe it was little Johnny and he just barely makes it over the rim as it is. So be it but you're standing right there. You know he missed. You're going to wash your hands and follow it up with antibacterial hand gel anyway so just give it wipe. That's all I'm asking.
Ladies, I respect your right to choose. But please, please, for those of us who aren't so cushy with our tushy, don't let your hyper hiney hygienics leave the rest of us singing with the Soggy Bottom Boys.
Diatribe over. =)
Monday, April 30, 2012
To the Polls!
Christians in NC should vote for Amendment One on Tuesday. Or so I'm told.
NC Amendment 1, Section 6 reads in part:
"Marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be valid or recognized in this State."
Okay. Why?
Well, Genesis 1:27, Leviticus 18:22, and Romans 1:26-28 for starters.
Ah then. Because the Bible says so, right?
Right.
Indeed it does. What else does the Bible say? Like... "the works of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality..." Galatians 5:19 or "Flee sexual immorality." 1 Corinthians 6:18 or "abstain from sexual immorality..." 1 Thessalonians 4:3.
Seems clear enough. If "sexual immorality" includes anything apart from sex between a husband and wife then that pretty much covers it all. Sooooo....
where is it? The other amendment? The other amendments? You know, the ones that say:
"It is prohibited for any man or woman to participate in consensual sexual activity while cohabitating apart from marriage, as defined by Amendment One, section 6."
What about the one that says:
"Any teenagers found to be sexually active prior to marriage, as defined by Amendment One, section 6, shall no longer be eligible for public education and must immediately be withdrawn from any public institutes of learning."
What? You haven't seen these? Haven't signed the petitions? Haven't bought the t-shirt? Hmmmm. Neither have I. But I'm awfully curious as to why not.
If conservative Christians are, as they proport to be doing, protecting God's biblical definition of marriage and thereby speaking on His behalf at the polls, then why aren't we formulating, marketing, and pushing through legislation to protect God's biblical sensitivities regarding ALL sexual acts? Why, in heaven's name, stop with a marriage amendment?
Come on Amie, grace has to supercede law at SOME point.
Ah yes, His grace is sufficient. Our constitution? Not so much, I guess.
Well, you can't expect the democratic government of a free and richly diverse people such as America to legislate every point of Christian morality. That would be legalism at its worst and set us back 200 years to a pre-revolutionary state church existence and would make it nearly impossible to follow Christ's command to show love given the extremity of the law, constant mutual suspicion and condemnation, as well as the likelihood that none could escape its judgments thanks to that darned "all have sinned" thing.
Oh, how I love when these conversations go right where I want them to. ;-) You are right. And what's more it would be impossible because the line of morality among Christians is as variant as the day is long and is most often drawn just inside of one's own level of comfort.
So INSTEAD ---
Perhaps we should remember that the Constitution of the United States is not Scripture. And that there may be evidences of MANY sacred writings from MANY cultures and belief systems reflected in its content. But rights should never have been, and should never again be afforded us by our common religion, or common race, or common gender, or common sexuality--but by our common humanity.
Instead, ask yourself "why do we draw the line here and not there?" "Here" being Amendment One and "there" being the Nth degree of the biblical standard. And if, in fact, you're not willing to push the line "there" then you have no choice but to unwrap the cause from its spiritual packaging with Bible-verse-quoting ribbons and bows and see that what you are left with is hypocrisy and discrimination. Stop dressing it up and putting God's name on the gift tag.
NC Amendment 1, Section 6 reads in part:
"Marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be valid or recognized in this State."
Okay. Why?
Well, Genesis 1:27, Leviticus 18:22, and Romans 1:26-28 for starters.
Ah then. Because the Bible says so, right?
Right.
Indeed it does. What else does the Bible say? Like... "the works of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality..." Galatians 5:19 or "Flee sexual immorality." 1 Corinthians 6:18 or "abstain from sexual immorality..." 1 Thessalonians 4:3.
Seems clear enough. If "sexual immorality" includes anything apart from sex between a husband and wife then that pretty much covers it all. Sooooo....
where is it? The other amendment? The other amendments? You know, the ones that say:
"It is prohibited for any man or woman to participate in consensual sexual activity while cohabitating apart from marriage, as defined by Amendment One, section 6."
What about the one that says:
"Any teenagers found to be sexually active prior to marriage, as defined by Amendment One, section 6, shall no longer be eligible for public education and must immediately be withdrawn from any public institutes of learning."
What? You haven't seen these? Haven't signed the petitions? Haven't bought the t-shirt? Hmmmm. Neither have I. But I'm awfully curious as to why not.
If conservative Christians are, as they proport to be doing, protecting God's biblical definition of marriage and thereby speaking on His behalf at the polls, then why aren't we formulating, marketing, and pushing through legislation to protect God's biblical sensitivities regarding ALL sexual acts? Why, in heaven's name, stop with a marriage amendment?
Come on Amie, grace has to supercede law at SOME point.
Ah yes, His grace is sufficient. Our constitution? Not so much, I guess.
Well, you can't expect the democratic government of a free and richly diverse people such as America to legislate every point of Christian morality. That would be legalism at its worst and set us back 200 years to a pre-revolutionary state church existence and would make it nearly impossible to follow Christ's command to show love given the extremity of the law, constant mutual suspicion and condemnation, as well as the likelihood that none could escape its judgments thanks to that darned "all have sinned" thing.
Oh, how I love when these conversations go right where I want them to. ;-) You are right. And what's more it would be impossible because the line of morality among Christians is as variant as the day is long and is most often drawn just inside of one's own level of comfort.
So INSTEAD ---
Perhaps we should remember that the Constitution of the United States is not Scripture. And that there may be evidences of MANY sacred writings from MANY cultures and belief systems reflected in its content. But rights should never have been, and should never again be afforded us by our common religion, or common race, or common gender, or common sexuality--but by our common humanity.
Instead, ask yourself "why do we draw the line here and not there?" "Here" being Amendment One and "there" being the Nth degree of the biblical standard. And if, in fact, you're not willing to push the line "there" then you have no choice but to unwrap the cause from its spiritual packaging with Bible-verse-quoting ribbons and bows and see that what you are left with is hypocrisy and discrimination. Stop dressing it up and putting God's name on the gift tag.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Randomness
I never know which blog to blog under. (SERIOUSLY a first-world problem) If I talk about family then it should be Sexton Crew but if I mention the hood maybe it should be Launch 150. Blah. I'll just hope you don't mind blog-hopping too much and stop stressing about where to share the randomness of our lives. Occasions such as this morning when Bella came into my bedroom and shouted, "Mom! Smell my tits!"
Gulp. My brain went into rapid flip mode, like a card shark shuffling the deck, searching for a reasonable explanation. Thankfully, I drew an Ace. The Ace being remembering that Bella has been begging for deodorant lately.
"Bella, do you mean armpits?" Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes!
"Oh yeah, mom. Oops. Not tits. Armpit."
Oops indeed. "Bella, please promise you will never, ever again ask someone to smell your tits, okay?"
She complied. After silly giggling. The silly giggling concerns me.
Farm life randomness: We are finally milking the goats. It's not a perfect science. They have opinions and attitudes and ridiculously strong hind legs. I decided to start wearing my "Bailey's Coffee Creamer" apron while milking. I thought it might inspire them if they caught sight of the competition. It didn't. I would say we're working on our technique and they are working on their patience. Hopefully, that will translate into an abundance of creamy wonderfulness before long.
Rad randomness: We see progress. In ourselves. In Mamoune. However, we now also see that a few weeks of what looks like a "normal" kid doesn't mean you have a "normal" kid and doesn't mean that your RAD kid can be parented like a "normal" kid. Failure to recognize this can lead to bad things. Like finding yourself being body slammed into the bathroom floor and donning some pretty nasty bruises. I got the full brunt of this particular eruption.
In retrospect I can see that the steam was rising and it could have been averted. And while it's not okay and there is much mending to do...I believe it will be even longer before the next episode because of the knowledge I gained. The bruises will heal. I am just thankful for the tools I have been given by our therapy so that my heart was not so badly bruised this time and we'll move on from here. No ground lost. Just a rest stop.
Normal is way overrated anyway. And on that note, I will close with this slightly less random thought...
I love Pink. Not the color. The person.
WHAT?!!! Amie, you do NOT mean the gangster-punk-rocker with ever-evolving hair who is raw and brash and has the nerve to write songs that mention things like drinking, fighting, and masturbation and even has a song with the F-bomb right there in the title... do you?
Yep. That's the one. Love her!
Tim and I recently watched the video to her Grammy-nominated song "Perfect". (The clean title and version of "F#%*ing Perfect") It is powerful. It is convicting. It is moving. I showed it to my daughter. My attachment disorder, fit-throwing, body changing every day, hormonal, pre-teen, out of control, body slamming, effin' perfect daughter. Maybe you should show it to yours, too.
Gulp. My brain went into rapid flip mode, like a card shark shuffling the deck, searching for a reasonable explanation. Thankfully, I drew an Ace. The Ace being remembering that Bella has been begging for deodorant lately.
"Bella, do you mean armpits?" Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes!
"Oh yeah, mom. Oops. Not tits. Armpit."
Oops indeed. "Bella, please promise you will never, ever again ask someone to smell your tits, okay?"
She complied. After silly giggling. The silly giggling concerns me.
Farm life randomness: We are finally milking the goats. It's not a perfect science. They have opinions and attitudes and ridiculously strong hind legs. I decided to start wearing my "Bailey's Coffee Creamer" apron while milking. I thought it might inspire them if they caught sight of the competition. It didn't. I would say we're working on our technique and they are working on their patience. Hopefully, that will translate into an abundance of creamy wonderfulness before long.
Rad randomness: We see progress. In ourselves. In Mamoune. However, we now also see that a few weeks of what looks like a "normal" kid doesn't mean you have a "normal" kid and doesn't mean that your RAD kid can be parented like a "normal" kid. Failure to recognize this can lead to bad things. Like finding yourself being body slammed into the bathroom floor and donning some pretty nasty bruises. I got the full brunt of this particular eruption.
In retrospect I can see that the steam was rising and it could have been averted. And while it's not okay and there is much mending to do...I believe it will be even longer before the next episode because of the knowledge I gained. The bruises will heal. I am just thankful for the tools I have been given by our therapy so that my heart was not so badly bruised this time and we'll move on from here. No ground lost. Just a rest stop.
Normal is way overrated anyway. And on that note, I will close with this slightly less random thought...
I love Pink. Not the color. The person.
WHAT?!!! Amie, you do NOT mean the gangster-punk-rocker with ever-evolving hair who is raw and brash and has the nerve to write songs that mention things like drinking, fighting, and masturbation and even has a song with the F-bomb right there in the title... do you?
Yep. That's the one. Love her!
Tim and I recently watched the video to her Grammy-nominated song "Perfect". (The clean title and version of "F#%*ing Perfect") It is powerful. It is convicting. It is moving. I showed it to my daughter. My attachment disorder, fit-throwing, body changing every day, hormonal, pre-teen, out of control, body slamming, effin' perfect daughter. Maybe you should show it to yours, too.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Reality is a Two-faced (CENSORED)!
This morning, in the middle of home schooling these five kiddos, Tim hugged me and said, "Last night I was with a beautiful woman. She was wearing a silky, shimmery blue night gown and had on sexy makeup. You don't look anything like her. I think I may have accidentally cheated on you."
Ain't that the way life goes? Sometimes you get to be the hot mama with deep blue eye shadow and maroon-stained lips. But then the clock strikes midnight and you're just the pony-tailed girl in a sweatsuit and cotton undies. sigh. As I pondered this double-sided existence, I was reminded of the musical "Into the Woods". In our high school performance of it, Tim was "The Baker" and I was "Rapunzel" his estranged sister. Estranged meaning locked in a doorless tower. The play is an amazing intertwining of several classic fairy tales and is quite entertaining, especially if you see the one with the anatomically correct Big Bad Wolf costume. 'nuff said.
Anyway, there is a scene in the play in which the Baker's wife and Prince Charming rendezvous in the woods, after which his charm seems to run short and she's left pondering the void between a passionate love affair (an "And") and a mundane life in the bakery (the "Or").
"Why not both instead, there's the answer if you're clever;
Have a child for warmth, and a baker for bread, and a prince for...whatever!"
In the end, she realizes that the tension between the two realities is a necessary part of relationship. Or at least that's my interpretation of what she realizes. She also gets stomped on by a giant like the no-good-cheater she is but that's beside the point.
"Just remembering you've had an "and" when you're back to "or",
Makes the "or" mean more than it did before."
So, reality IS a two-faced (CENSORED)! No sense fighting it. See it for what it is and now... go have an "AND" with your hubby! Oh, and keep away from beanstalks. It's just best for everybody that way.
Ain't that the way life goes? Sometimes you get to be the hot mama with deep blue eye shadow and maroon-stained lips. But then the clock strikes midnight and you're just the pony-tailed girl in a sweatsuit and cotton undies. sigh. As I pondered this double-sided existence, I was reminded of the musical "Into the Woods". In our high school performance of it, Tim was "The Baker" and I was "Rapunzel" his estranged sister. Estranged meaning locked in a doorless tower. The play is an amazing intertwining of several classic fairy tales and is quite entertaining, especially if you see the one with the anatomically correct Big Bad Wolf costume. 'nuff said.
Anyway, there is a scene in the play in which the Baker's wife and Prince Charming rendezvous in the woods, after which his charm seems to run short and she's left pondering the void between a passionate love affair (an "And") and a mundane life in the bakery (the "Or").
"Why not both instead, there's the answer if you're clever;
Have a child for warmth, and a baker for bread, and a prince for...whatever!"
In the end, she realizes that the tension between the two realities is a necessary part of relationship. Or at least that's my interpretation of what she realizes. She also gets stomped on by a giant like the no-good-cheater she is but that's beside the point.
"Just remembering you've had an "and" when you're back to "or",
Makes the "or" mean more than it did before."
So, reality IS a two-faced (CENSORED)! No sense fighting it. See it for what it is and now... go have an "AND" with your hubby! Oh, and keep away from beanstalks. It's just best for everybody that way.
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