Kids and politics

“Show me a young Conservative and I'll show you someone with no heart. Show me an old Liberal and I'll show you someone with no brains.”

― Winston Churchill


What are your thoughts on Churchill's quote?  I know that I get less Liberal each year and I see it around me as well. My grandfather (remember him?) was a Democrat (if you can believe it!) when my grandmother was alive. At least she was a Democrat and I am pretty sure that he did what she wanted him to do, but that was over a decade ago. He was still a bit cranky then (that's his game), but he didn't spend his days watching Hannity and Beck, so there was room for reasoning then. Having children made a difference because now I want policies that won't enable my children to slack off and be rewarded for mediocrity. I suppose THAT makes me conservative. I also believe that people who truly need help should get it. THAT makes me a Democrat.

My friend, Tom Jones (not the lounge singer, though that would be *insert lilty voice here* awesome!) is a staunch Republican (I think mostly because he likes to fight--no--banter--with others about politics) as were most of our friends in Virginia--and Montana come to think of it--and he always told me that the fact that I'm an Independent means that I'm too weak to make a decision. He was [kind of] joking, so don't get riled up over that. Also, he may be right.

I feel like it is the teacher in me. Teachers are constantly asked to see every part of a situation and English teachers spend their days reading and analyzing behavior. Sometimes it is the behavior of the students and sometimes it is the behavior of the characters in the reading, but looking at all points of view is required to make a final assertion. That is how I treat most things that I do and it is definitely how I approach politics. Of course, if I feel like someone is being bullied, I sometimes get cloudy vision and pull for that person to win--pulling for the underdog--how very Democratic of me, right?

So my friend posted this the other day (about her son who is...six?):

My son wants to earn some money to buy a toy. I gave him a small job to start the process. He said, "This job doesn't feel very lucky." I told him, "You are very lucky if you have a paying job. That's a good thing." He said, "Why can't you just give me the money without the job." I told him he sounded like a democrat. He said, "Don't call me that hateful word!" lol (sorry dem friends. too funny not to share)

Funny, right? It reminded me of a conversation I had with my son when he was four:

"Mommy,  why do you have to pay the doctor EVERY time you go?"

"Well, because when someone does a service of some kind for you and it is their job, then you need to pay them."

"I think that people shouldn't have to pay the doctor--I think the doctor should always make sick people feel better because that's what doctor's do."

"You should run for office."

And this one we had shortly thereafter:


"Mommy, I want to marry YOU."

"Well, that is very nice, but you can't marry me."

"But I want to--why can't I?"

"Because moms can't marry their children. It doesn't end well."

"Who says? I should be able to marry you if I want to marry you."

"Well, I don't want to marry you, so we don't need to fight about it."

"Why don't you want to marry me?

"I'm already married--trust me--it's enough for me."

"Then I want to marry (his friend--we'll call him Eliot) Eliot. Can I marry Eliot?"

"Hmmm...in some states."

"What about here [Montana]?"

"Nope. And not in Virginia [where we used to live] either." 

"Why not? I don't want anyone telling me who I can marry!"

"Luckily we don't have to make this decision today then."

Regardless of your political agenda, isn't it funny to look at "hot topics" through a child's eyes? Do you have similar chats with your children? Do you try to avoid politics altogether or are you hoping to raise a little Alex P. Keaton (PLEASE know the reference...!)?  Will you guide your children, but ultimately let them make their political decisions on their own, or will you school them on your politics and let them know that there is no other choice?

My friend (you know--the one whose child I exploited above) is fantastic (AND a Republican--who'da thunk it, right?!) and although her child is headed in what she deems to be the right direction, I know she isn't brainwashing him into taking on her beliefs. I say that because I actually do have friends who are practically brainwashing their children and I'd like to know if this is commonplace and what your thoughts are on it. I'd also like to know if anyone else's children force them into political conversations on a regular basis...because mine does it daily and quite honestly, I don't have it in me anymore!

Maybe Churchill's quote is right--I have complained about losing pieces of my brain each time I delivered a baby (I believe they were holding onto my brain and that is why it hurt so much. Delivering a person is bad enough, but trying to expel part of your own brain--horrible!)...and I did have way too much heart when I was younger. If only I could find a balance. I'll work on that if I ever when I find my brain again.Maybe by then we will have eliminated bipartisanship altogether and we will be working as a country to fix our country. And maybe Tom Jones (yes, the lounge singer) will be my friend.

I bet you can think of FIFTY things that taste as good as you feel reading THIS!

According to my "plan" (oh great--now I have to think about that Friends episode and laugh again. That takes up a lot of time...), today is "Friday's Fabulous Facebook Finds" day. I should write about all of the things that other people did to make me laugh this week. According to my "plan," that is. Since we all know that I am about as consistent as my internet signal (N-O-T CONSISTENT...), I'm not sure if my rambling will end with that or not. I guess we shall see. YES--WE shall see. So continue reading and DO NOT click on that little red "x!" Do not minimize so that you can watch or read something better. DON'T DO IT. Thanks!

I left the gym this morning feeling pleased that I stayed for two hours and did a pretty hard workout and feeling crummy that...well...I was at the GYM. I KNOW there are people out there who LOVE going to the gym (Tom, Laura, Heidi...) and I salute you. No, really--not with THAT finger--I salute you the proper way because the world needs people like you to motivate people like me to get our fat @S$#s moving!  If we didn't see other people doing it and having fun, we would NEVER put down the Ben and Jerry's and get to a workout facility. EVER. I know that the more you work out the more endorphins you produce, but I've said this before: ANY endorphins I EVER produced were delivered OUT of me with the placentas. If the first two didn't get them, that last one sucked them up like ME on a chocolate ganache-filled cupcake. IN FACT, my friend Melissa at http://www.adoredbefore.com/ and http://designherbrands.blogspot.com/ wrote an update the other day that I had also posted a bit differently weeks before about this. First, my friend, Tom (not the lounge singer (Tom Jones)--the OTHER Tom (he's the one who makes Tony Robbins look like he's depressed and unmotivated) posted "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" on his facebook page and I thought, "Huh. I guess that's true" and continued thinking about it for days. IN FACT, I think about it EVERY day and I finally posted, "Anyone who thinks that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels OBVIOUSLY has never tasted..."Lindt truffles. Or Nutella. Or lettuce wraps from P.F.Changs. Or Bang-Bang shrimp (or the yummy house salad--and the BREAD) from Bonefish. Or the BREAD and pretty much anything else from Carrabas, dipped in the "Italian butter." Or ANY of my Auntie Jojo's cooking (or my grandmother's cooking when she was alive). Or my mother's cooking back when she used to cook meals--198...SEVEN maybe?  Six? Let's say my mother's cooking circa 1984, just to be safe. Or this amazing doughnut (and the TOMATO PIE!) I had from Jim Main's bakery in Vineland--the outside is just a little crispy while the slightly warm doughnut oozes with the most decadent white filling EVER combined with the smooth chocolate icing...YUM. Or ANY of the baked goods that the Italian bakeries in New Jersey seem to offer. Or Rita's gelato--Swedish Fish with vanilla. Or the filet we used to get at It's About Thyme in Culpepper, Virginia (YES--CULPEPER!) that you could cut with a spoon. A SPOON. That bad boy would turn a vegan into a meat eater in seconds. A SPOON. *SIGH*

OR ANYTHING from Fotis (ALSO in Culpeper, though so many people don't have faith and snub their noses at Culpeper, so they will miss out on these delectable treats) which is run by some chefs who left The Inn At Little Washington (which is supposedly one of the BEST places to eat in the COUNTRY--at least as it was told to me by a guy I taught with years ago who took his wife there for their...twenty-fifth? Fiftieth? I'm lucky I know my OWN...!) wedding anniversary) to start their own restaurant. No one is happier than I am with their decision to leave, as Fotis is a fine dining experience for those who do NOT wish to sell a kidney to get funding. The wait staff treat EVERYONE (Even the jean-clad parents of two (at the time) who spent their day at a pumpkin farm) like royalty which makes the food taste EVEN BETTER. My memories of that place make me much happier than my memories of being skinny. Sorry, Tom!

Of course, when I was SKINNY, I THOUGHT I was fat, so maybe THAT is why my memories are so tainted. I didn't get to ENJOY my skinny days and I REALLY enjoyed my not-so-skinny (yes, I KNOW that means fat, but I'm not as eager to use that word now that I know that it applies to me. Thanks...) days eating what I wanted to eat. That's not to say that I wasn't healthy--I just need to not eat sugar EVER and to work out DAILY. THAT is what MY body needs to look good. And THAT pisses me off. GREATLY. I feel that I want to renegotiate the contract. I will exercise regularly (AT LEAST three to five days a week) and eat everything in moderation and you, body, will look like a person who is exercising regularly and eating everything in moderation. Unfortunately, my body is a bi&%# and didn't agree to my terms. I have to say, for the entire time I lived in Montana (almost two years) I only worked out seven times. SEVEN TIMES.  I did try to be an  EXTREMELY healthy eater when we first moved there, but I was very sick. I would FORCE down fish (can't stand it, but REALLY want to...) and find fun quinoa and bulgur recipes, not to mention the berry, flax seed, spinach, kale banana smoothies I drank with my kids each morning--but I still felt crummy--ALL the time, and when I tried to work out, I was exhausted and sometimes in pain. We moved there a few months after I stopped nursing my youngest, so I went INTO this new "contract" still needing to lose baby weight (from all THREE of my children--don't let me fool you!) and when I lay dormant for twenty-three months--let's just say it DIDN'T help! I gave up on the strict healthy eating because I thought, "i feel like I am dying and there is NO WAY I am going to choke down FISH as my last meal!" There were many days when the only thing I would eat would be a chocolate milkshake I begged my husband to bring home. Take THAT, body!

I had a partial hysterectomy and felt a bit better, but still not good enough to exercise. Of course, the longer I took to "feel like" exercising, the worse my body got. I had ANOTHER hysterectomy (Relax, boys! You KNOW we have the parts--well, I don't have the parts anymore, but there is no need to be shy about this. It's ALL medical...) and felt even better, though I didn't feel like a normal human being until after I was on a steroid that helped me to pack on 30-40 EXTRA pounds--WHILE I wasn't exercising (though I gave up the milkshake diet AND the fish!), so I was a HOT MESS. And by "HOT," I don't mean HOT. At. All. A friend of mine who has suffered from and risen above autoimmune diseases her whole life insisted that they test me for Sjogren's disease. She and a Rheumatologist  I worked with thought that my symptoms (OH-SO-MANY) mimicked those of Sjogren's patients. Long story--LONGER--I went on Sjogren's meds and am now renegotiating my contract with my body. And my body is winning. In my defense, it weighs more.

SO. I've pretty much given up on endorphins AND most of the foods I listed above which I happily reacquainted myself with after my first surgery, however, I am a sucker for a baked good and anything hinting of chocolate. If only...if only those baked goods made me as happy as I would feel if I were to fit into ANY of my fat clothes (YES...my ridiculously "fat" clothes are now too small. YIKES!) or into my old workout clothes that are actually kind of cute. NOW I am a smelly disgusting mess in my mismatched clothes that barely fit when I pick my daughter up after the gym and I don't even have a cute workout outfit because NOTHING is cute in this size AND nothing fits me anyway.

Wow--this went from "hopefully going to be funny," to "not funny at all," to "downright depressing!" Glad I could be of service...
I bet "skinny" feels WAAAAAAAY better than THIS felt while reading it! THAT'S something, right?!

AWESOME BABIES!

I remember when Brayden was a baby. He was an AMAZING baby. Don't get me wrong--I didn't know it at the time, but he was seriously the BEST BABY. EVER. He was also my WORLD. I was so enamored with those little fingers and toes and those ridiculously long lashes that a girl would NEVER be lucky enough to have. I used to just take pictures and videos of him for HOURS. THAT is what I did with my time as a SAHM. I would dress him in ALL of the cute outfits that people inevitably give to a first time mom and I would take pictures. Like when I was six with my "MY FRIEND MANDY" doll--only with a photo-op. And a...vide-op (I KNOW that isn't a thing, but I am going to coin the term. Just go with it).

Having Brayden didn't cramp my style (WHAT style, you ask? Oh--I had STYLE!) at all. I went everywhere and did everything I had done BEFORE having a baby (I guess I was P-R-E-T-T-Y boring THEN!), only now I had to leave occasionally because of leaky breast milk. Okay--so THAT was a style-cramper, but I still went to the social events! I didn't let a few wet shirts keep me out of the loop! Some would be embarrassed to show their faces again after leaving a house with two enormous wet circles running down the fronts of their shirts, but not THIS trooper. Oh no--I had NOOOOOO problem going back. And investing in an extra few sets of nursing pads.

True, part of the reason was because my friends were so welcoming and accepting of the whole...baby thing. They all had gone through it before and even my friend Tom Jones (Yes--his name IS Tom Jones and I do believe his wife had him serenade us once after one (EIGHT) too many cocktails...NOT the same.), who prides himself on mocking me scoffed at the fact that I would be embarrassed about leaky breasts (yes--I said BREASTS.  You'll be fine.). "What's the big deal? You have a BABY. That's what HAPPENS." Tom ROCKS. Just don't tell him I said so.

I think that having the "job" of loving and spending time with my baby full time was so amazing to me. For the first time since I was sixteen, I had NOTHING ELSE to do. Why WOULDN"T I love everything about this new job? I get to stay in my comfy clothes and all I have to do is PLAY--ALL DAY. It was perfect. Only I didn't KNOW it was perfect ALL the time.

I remember thinking it was SO HARD to get up every few hours to FEED him. When other mothers would talk about getting up at night, I would FULLY commiserate, not realizing that THEIR babies would get up and STAY up. Half the time I would get Brayden and fall asleep while feeding him (even though ALL of the parenting magazines said that this was a BIG no-no. I didn't see any of THEM offering to get up to feed for me...just sayin'...). It was the same with Ryan (I'll tell her story another day). I didn't realize that I did NOT understand what all of those other parents were going through until I was pregnant with Addison. My aunt said to me, "You'd better watch it--one of these days you are going to get a REAL baby!" Luckily, Addison was great, too! Of course, they are all making me pay NOW, but I think I've covered that  sufficiently.

I think that EVERY mother (and even some fathers) get some version of the baby blues (much to the dismay of Tom Cruise. Jerk.). you have your run of the mill "I am going to drive off of a bridge and everyone will read about it in People Magazine" kind, Your "What is this creature that just came out of me--there is NO WAY I am going near it!" kind and your "I just love this baby and my life so why am I feeling so down?" kind. I fell into category three. I think that my version may not have been solely from having the baby, it may have had a lot to do with the fact that for the first time in over ten years I had nowhere to be. I had a similar feeling the first time I only had ONE job and the first summer when I didn't work AT ALL.  I had been used to working three and four jobs and suddenly I had DOWN time. I had heard of this concept before, but never TRULY believed that it existed. It was WONDERFUL! Only, with down time comes time to think and thinking is NEVER good--especially when you aren't good at it.

I suddenly had the time to obsess over EVERYTHING. Was I doing everything right? Would my baby feel loved? Would it REALLY harm him terribly if I allow him to drink milk with hormones (I know, right?!)? I was (and still am to some degree) ridiculous. I swore I would NEVER speak to my sweet baby boy in a harsh tone (refer to http://anothertiredmommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/ive-decided-that-instead-of-making-to.html for the ENTIRE list of "never"s--or at least the ones I thought of THAT day) and I would ALWAYS  make sure that he felt heard. What's that saying? We make plans and God laughs? Well God must be roaring up there over me!

I remember talking to veteran parents (my aunt, my mom, the lady at the grocery store...) and in retrospect I can see them biting their tongues and smirking at all of my "knowledge" as a first time parent (because I of course felt it necessary to SHARE all of my theories. OY!). I can remember going to play groups or hanging out with friends who had older children and thinking things like, "Maybe if she wouldn't yell so much, they would listen..." "Should I TELL her that consistency is key when disciplining children?" and (my favorite) "I wonder if she knows that you shouldn't yell out empty threats--especially when it deals with spanking. I'm not one of those "against spanking" people. I taught middle school. AND high school. I have MET children who needed to be spanked when they were younger and I have SEEN what happens to them when they are not. Of course, spanking should DEFINITELY be reserved for those horrible times when the child runs out into traffic or the child threatens to KILL you or something--this way it MEANS something...I wonder if she knows all of this?" All of this while my baby slept soundly (or looked around curiously) in his little car seat. Just a sidebar--my babies LIVED in their car seats. Half the time I would go to people's houses and leave the child by the front door like a bag of groceries. They RARELY complained, and I figured, if they aren't complaining, why bother them? I'm CERTAIN people were appalled at my behavior. I also let everyone take the baby so that I could visit. I learned early on that everyone WANTED to hold the baby and since I spent ALL OF MY TIME with my babies, why WOULDN'T I pass them on at parties? of course, from THEIR perspective I was the mother who either left her child in the foyer to be forgotten all night or I was giving my babies away all the time. Nice parenting. It's a good thing I knew so much.

It did concern me at one point--we were at a friend's house and I had to run home for something for their party. As I approached their house, I saw a group of people in their back yard. One woman was holding a baby that looked EXACTLY like mine. I felt a little like I did when an ex-boyfriend cheated on me and I saw him at a party with another girl. Only this was worse. I'm not sure why--obviously if this woman is at the party, SOMEONE knows her, right? Still, it felt weird that a stranger was bouncing my baby around, but why wouldn't she? I had left the baby (almost too) willingly, so it would stand to reason that SOMEONE would take over parenting duties. Why SHOULDN'T it be someone I've never met? I remember wanting desperately to yank the baby out of her arms, but then reminded myself that I was not a psycho. INSTEAD, I introduced myself to this extremely nice woman (who now has three babies of her own I hear through the grapevine. Sucker!) and thanked her for taking such good care of my baby. We continued to chat until someone else begged to have the baby leaving me wondering if there was something SERIOUSLY wrong with me. I think we ALL know the answer to THAT.

Lucky for me, I had Marcia. Marcia is the greatest no-nonsense, low-maintenance, least dramatic,would-do-anything-for-anybody friend I could have had--especially during my RIDICULOUS days as a new parent. Marcia did things like feed my daughter blue icing when she was six months old, gave EVERY child of mine loud instruments to bang on or whistle through and MADE SURE we let them be heard and visited and read to my children on a regular basis. She (and her Mike) were the grandparents that were unable to visit regularly and were the voices of reason in a time of insanity. Marcia made sure I knew that having children meant having a messy house. That loving and having fun with my babes was more precious than having a clean floor or an organized pantry.

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Sorry--I couldn't help myself. I think of all of my college (and grad school) friends and former roommates and those people who met me AFTER my children were ALL toddling and walking and DESTROYING EVERYTHING and I read this through THEIR eyes and I laugh. I think of the people who have NEVER come to my house and NOT left with some sort of food on their feet. I think of those people who met me when I no longer HAD a pantry and I laugh. These people probably cannot even IMAGINE me with a clean house! *sigh* I actually LIKED my clean house...

Sorry! Where was I? Oh--MarciandMike. At Christmas time, Marcia would show up and tell us to go Christmas shopping. She wouldn't take no for an answer and I KNEW how blessed I was to have her. When times were tight (which unfortunately lasted...well, it is STILL lasting!), she would come over and tell us to go on a date. Mike would get down on the floor and play with my kids--cars, Legos, coloring--whatever my children requested, the two of them would do. Marcia would remind me of how important my marriage was--even if it wasn't on MY priority list--or my husband's--and that I wasn't doing ANYONE any good if I forgot that which is why she INSISTED that we go on dates. This woman is full of so much wisdom and kindness--something we ALL could use in our lives and I often think about new mothers: "Wow--SHE could really use a Marcia!" Hell, I could really use a Marcia now! Lucky for Marcia, we moved away so she can focus all of her wisdom and kindness on her new baby grandtwins (I know--I'm coining that, too...). It's a good thing HER daughter isn't like a lot of new mothers--she is prepared for the blue-frosting incidents and welcomes them! Hopefully she will listen to and hear the words that her mother says--then she won't have to write a fifteen page blog about how crazy she was as a new parent in seven years!

My Brayden will be EIGHT on Saturday. EIGHT. It was HIS second birthday party that held the infamous blue frosting incident of '06. I remember the craziness of that Thomas party (Crazy because I always invite WAAAYYY too many people--but I always know REALLY nice and fun people and I want them to be a part of things! Don't worry--Kate was there to help! See http://anothertiredmommy.blogspot.com/2011/12/fight-for-your-right-tothrow-my-party.html), I remember his HUGE brown eyes and his obvious excitement with everything around him. He was the friendliest most easy-going two-year-old EVER, my sweet Brayden and that boy is still in there. He's just always been advanced, so recently he is acting like a teenager--nothing we can't work through as a family. With maybe a little therapy. And some whine wine--we'll DEFINITELY need wine.