A little guilt goes a long way.

It seems that every blog I read lately is decrying the bondage of "mommy-guilt". Mommies everywhere, championing the cause to rise above the guilt and....do what exactly? I've found guilt to be a powerfully motivating factor. I'm not talking about beating yourself up about things over which you have no control. But geez louise, sometimes a person should feel guilty. Not all choices are equal, damn it. It reminds me of the people who resort to "well, that's just the way I am" as an excuse. The way you are? A stark-raving lunatic bent on alienating everyone around you? Well if that's "the way you are" then that makes it hunky dory. You should feel guilty if you're making poor choices, not putting the needs of your children ahead of your own. Yes, I said it. Ahead. Not the ever so popular advice to take care of yourself first, and the rest will follow. If taking care of yourself is a shower and some breakfast before your kids get their hair brushed, then by all means. If taking care of yourself is watching Maury while the kids eat glue, then no (for the literal among us...that was hyperbole). Like I said, not all choices are equal. I am not recommending that women just completely forget themselves and devote all time and energy to their children. That just annoys the kids. There obviously has to be a balance. But for heaven's sake, when did it become ok for mothers (and fathers..) to put their needs ahead of the kids'?


Can you help me?

I watched 20/20 last night. It was one of those hidden camera "what would you do in this situation" ones. They used an actor to portray a lost child. In 3 different scenarios, he/she stood quietly alone, cried, and asked for help. Out of 1700 people who passed by, only 40-something stopped to help. I said to myself "I'll bet kids noticed". Sure enough, the kids who saw the lost child made their parents stop to help. I, of course, cried. I've always agreed with the advice to tell your kids to ask a woman for help, preferably one with kids, if they're lost. Looking for a policeman could take forever, not to mention depending on age, kids can't tell a policeman from a security guard, from a bus driver. Power to the kids, it's adults who are the scourge of the planet. Although, standing above the rest was this European woman who chased down John Quinones when he tried to walk away with the boy. She was about to tackle him. Restoring a sliver of faith in people.


Oh, those midnight ramblings

Can't go having my weird virginity rant at the top anymore. People thinks I'm cray zay. I tried to go to a class tonight (on Waldorf education) but, alas, the gnomes (which I'm told they believe in) must have run off with the school, cause I couldn't find it anywhere. So instead I hung out with Jenny, eatin' soup, watchin' the Idol. Which I have nothing to say about that hasn't been said.

I've been thinking about Mommy blogging a bit. And whether or not it's exploitative when it gets to a certain level. I've kept most of the nitty-gritty of my day-to-day parenting to myself. I have a hard time putting stuff out there. I used to crave conflict. I thrived on it. Now, it seems I've mellowed in my old age. When I started the new blog (Poopsy-woo), I deliberately used a different blogger profile. I just didn't want to open my personal blogs up to the world to that degree. It is the reason I've hesitated about joining any mommy blogging consortiums, or blogging in a truly public arena.

My parenting philosophy (...can you picture our grandmothers using that term???) is so far afield of the mainstream. Like really really afield...off in the ditch...across the street from the field. When you say something, take "we don't punish" and put it out there, you get 2 general reactions. 1) The "if you don't punish, and I put my kid in time out, you think I'm a bad evil mommy with glowing cat eyes and Medusa hair" or 2) "Your kids are going to grow up to be the scourge of the planet, and my kids will pay the taxes to keep them incarcerated."

I have some pretty strong opinions about what is right and what is wrong to do to another human being. It just happens that I apply those beliefs to all human beings, including children. But, I also believe pretty strongly that kids are resilient. Kids who were spanked grow up to be perfectly respectable human beings (...though occasionally a little kinky in the bedroom). Kids who were allowed to run rampant like feral pigs, had kool-aid in their bottles, and cried themselves to sleep also often grow up to be contributing members of the human race. The reason I do things the way I do has very little to do with "how they'll turn out". I think loved and cherished kids, for the most part, turn out fine. It has much more to do with how they feel now. Do they feel respected? Do they feel that what they think is important? I care about those things NOW. It doesn't mean I'll ever let my kids believe that I think it's alright to hit someone small and defenseless, no matter how society may dictate I react to someone spanking a child. I reserve the right to react with all the fury of hell, lest my children sense I am complacent about the bullying of the weaker. It doesn't mean I'll pump their bodies full of Red Dye 44 and aspartame either.

I'm relatively comfortable saying those things here. Cause nobody reads it! Except Pants. I love Pants. But I spend my day biting my tongue. Cause those kids, they'll push you to the brink, God love 'em. I just can't spend what little time I have trying to be diplomatic with a bunch of crazy women. The comments on some of these blogs are unreal. Women like big cats pouncing on another mother. Then come the hyenas, circling for the last shreds of dignity some poor woman has left. And after everyone has corrected each others' grammar and apostrophe placement, they all go home. And there lays the carcass. Or lies? There lies the carcass? Oh well. Guess I don't deserve to live, have an opinion, or post a blog...since I'm not sure.

The sad thing is, none of this happens to me. I just stay out of the fray. Cause I'm chicken. Or maybe I'm smart. My children aren't my property to do with as I please. I hesitate to use them in a public capacity. I'm also tired of overthinking things. Come to think of it, I'm just tired. So no conclusion for you! I'm going to bed.


I'm sure I've mentioned once or twice how I feel about the concept of prizing virginity as precious gift to be protected by daddy, then handed over to a husband. I can't, for the life of me, get it to bother me that Conor has had sexual partners before me. Maybe I can't get it to bother me, since he has had fewer than I have. But I digress. That to say, I love LM Montgomery (authoress...her word...of the Anne of Green Gables series). And I love this quote:

"A man always asks to be a woman's first love; a woman wishes to be a man's last...I should not care how many predecessors I had; but I must have no successors!" - Lucy Maud Montgomery


"Let children learn about different faiths, let them notice their incompatibility, and let them draw their own conclusions about the consequences of that incompatibility. As for whether they are ‘valid,’ let them make up their own minds when they are old enough to do so."— Richard Dawkins

One of the dangers of subscribing to this philosophy is your 3 year old marching around singing "This is the DAY, this is the DAY, that the LORD HAS MADE, that the LORD HAS MADE." She doesn't actually sing those words exactly, but that's the general idea.


My anniversary gift

Conor said since he can't buy me a bungalow yet, he got me these instead. Cue the "aaawwwws".

Love you birdy.


Happy Anniversary, Birdy

See how cool he is?


It's that time of year my friends. The time that flowers bud, the snow melts, and new baby blogs are born. The collaboration of minds have emerged this spring with the blog "What to do, poopsy-woo?" dedicated to having fun with the small people in your life. Come visit us there, or come be our Myspace friend.



I love my job. Really I do.

it's just today. i'll be better tomorrow....

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