Happy International Women's Day

I will not be protesting in "A Day Without A Woman".  Why?  I have a business to run.  But, I support all of those who can.


***

I was watching the news this morning, and the reporter stated that 76% of teachers in the country are women.  Why aren't teachers in America shown the respect and pay grade that other countries do?  Because it's "women's work", as is nursing, the long-standing tradition of avenues in which women could actually participate.  People dispute the 76 cent pay gap, claiming the type of profession isn't taken into account.  Women tend to go into the careers with "soft" skills: teaching, nursing, caring, counseling.  And until we all come together to realize this isn't merely "women's work", the pay will continue to be low in those careers, and respect will continue to be lacking.

So, I am thrilled to hear certain school districts closed down today so their teachers can participate in the protest.  Maybe this is the wake up call we need to make actual change instead of giving lip service.

How devastating would it be for if all those 76% took today off?  Here's the answer: http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-34602822.

The morning after

I am tired and wrung out.  I have slept little and wept often.  I have never felt like this after an election.

I am scared.

I am scared that will family will lose our health insurance.  We currently have all of our eggs in one basket, financially speaking.  One illness, one accident will ruin us.  We have a litany of preexisting conditions and are quite accident prone.

I am scared for all my friends with skin browner than mine.  They are Americans, but this election gave others carte blanche to treat them as otherwise.

I am scared for the journalists who actually did their jobs.  Threats have been made to shut down their rights as journalists.

I am scared for the comedians who are just doing their jobs.  Humor and satire shouldn't be something you have to censor.

I am scared for every woman.  Women are threatened every day for just existing online and having an opinion.  The new leader of our country just opened the floodgates.  It's already difficult without all of this.  And now, reproductive rights have been promised to be stripped away.

I am scared for the LGBT community.  We thought love won not long ago.  Looks like it has to be secret once again.

I am scared for the economy.  The last time Republicans controlled the Presidency, House, and Senate was 1928.

I am scared.  Persuasion won out over argument.  Side show illusion replaced critical and rational thought.  I try to teach my children to be good people and take an interest in the world around them.  They just watched an ill-informed bully win the highest seat in the land.

I am going to hide under my blanket now.

Track Musings

I walk the Family Track at the YMCA while Drake attends his Parkour class.  I can't sit on metal bleachers for an hour anymore; age has forced me to stop that silly activity.  So, I walk.  I watch Drake some as he attempts shoulder rolls and bear crawls.  I listen to music or podcasts.  Mostly, my mind wanders.  Here is today's list of musings.

How many of these kids running past me can I trip and get away with it?

It's not a race, lady with her speed walking on.  We're just going in circles, and I happen to be in the slow lane.  Pass me, damn it!

Why is Drake shaking his butt at me?

If I'm not wearing a Fitbit, does this exercise count?

When a songwriter gives his/her song a title that has nothing to do with the lyrics is it to be artistic or pretentious?

Yes, lady, I can type and walk simultaneously.  Pass, please.

Why are there plugs so close to the ceiling along the walking track?  What kind of actitivtes do they do here to warrant that many power sources no one can reach?

Drake is totally cheating on the exercises!  Dude!

It's June?!?

Fucking pass me already!

It's only 7:20?!?

When did all the parents become hipsters?

A fishy tale

For Drake's 9th birthday, we bought him a fish, the first pet to be welcomed into this household.  We took him to PetCo, and he picked out a lovely betta.  Drake nixed my name suggestion of Sir Glubby McSwimsalot, and went with Bluefin.  The boy has been very diligent in the care of his fish.  He is showing maturity and responsibility, which is delightful.

Blissfully unaware of what his name could have been

And now, the pet ownership flood gates have been opened.  Flynn has decided for his next birthday, he is getting a fish.  This fish won't be living inside the house.  He is going to build a pond in our backyard for said fish.  He reading books and drawing up plans for this habitat.  I have no idea where he is going to place the pond.  

Competition

Today* is Drake's first real foray into the world of competition. For the record, I do not consider playing sports at the Y actual competition.  Thus summer was the first time anyone officially kept score.  He has his first First LEGO League robotics match today. I am very excited for him.  He has worked so hard and has grown so much the past few months.  As a self-proclaimed trophy whore, I hope his team walks away with something. Because, how freaking exciting would that be: a rookie team of all 3rd graders taking home hardware against veteran teams.  Realistically, this is probably not going to happen.  And, you know what, he doesn't seem to care.  That is the greatest thing to hear.  This team knows the odds are not in their favor, but they know they have learned so much, accomplished something as a team, and, I'm not just saying this because he's my kid, they produced a better product than many of the other teams out there.

I'm proud of you, kiddo.  Break a leg and have a blast!

*December 13, 2015.  Don't know why it wasn't uploaded sooner.

UPDATE: The team did bring home some hardware: the Judges' Award.  They weren't the best team, but they held their own against 8th graders and veteran teams.

Old notes

Not sure if reading old letters is the best activity the night before a major holiday.  But, that was the path I chose for the evening.  The musty odor.  The yellowing pages.   The questionable handwriting. I reread the words, scouring over notes, letters, and cards collected years ago. I read courtships developing and love affairs crumbling. I was surprised with whom I kept correspondence so many years ago. I didn't recall exchanging letters with certain people, but the evidence is there  I was transported to my younger self: the one who had the whole world ahead of her, who was still emotionally fragile and unsure, and in whom, according to the words on several pages, people wanted to confide. 

What I learned from the exercise:
-I miss writing and receiving letters. All I receive in the mail now is bills.  Electronic communication is good, but it isn't the same.
-The males in my life have all had really poor handwriting.  Reading hieroglyphics would be easier at times.
-There's nothing wrong with holding on to scraps from the past.  Work that memory every now and again.
-I hope my children have friends like I've had throughout my life.  Or, if nothing else, they finally learn how to write a note.

I apologize for being so judgmental

I get it now.

The dead grass in the "yard".  Piles of trash in the corner of the lot.  The abandoned-looking car on the curb.  Piles of clutter.  Weeds taking over.  Paint peeling.  Shingles sliding off the roof.  Temporary solutions that have become permanent.  Rotting deck.  Baby books started when the child is 16.  Piles of dishes in the sink.

I get it now.

My house and yard have become what I once mocked.  I would think, "Why don't those people just mow their yard?"  "Can't they get a can of paint and fix that?"  The truth is: time, money, ability, access, know how.  All of those barriers to taking care of everything in the second paragraph.  Some of the uncompleted projects are missing all five aspects.  Lately, the first two have been missing.   Piles of large object that need to go to the dump are in my shed; my car isn't big enough to haul them and they are too trashed to donate.  The siding on the house is rotting away because I don't have the money to pay a contractor to fix it.  The deck is full of splinters and rotting wood because I don't have the time to repair it.  The garden is barren.  The weeds have thrived.  I don't even know where to start with the gutter drainage problem.

So, I get it now.  I will no longer condemn those whose homes look less than stellar.  I will no longer judge those whose to do lists are never completed.  I will forgive myself for not finishing everything I "need" to finish.  I could have spent the morning hacking back blackberry brambles.  Instead, I went on a long bike ride with my sons.  And in the end, isn't that what they are going to remember more?  Will they remember our yard being immaculate, or will they remember me taking some time to be with them?