go team love. 2 cute junior team. little league sweetheart. pretty league. pretty little flower. cutie.
sharks. pirates. towtrucks. firetrucks. truck-trucks. monster trucks. oceanographer theme. camo.
Just returned from a browse through the kids wear at Superstore (aka Joe Fresh). Can you guess which line is for boys and which is for girls?
As Boy-o would say: "JAY-ZUZ!"
Monday, February 21, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Why Justin Bieber's anti-abortion talk really gets my goat...a rant from a pro-choice mama.
There is currently some scarier than usual anti-abortion rhetoric heating up in the U.S. these days (thank you Tea Party-ers, and p.s. you suck. And now, dim-witted teenage heart-throbs, (moreover heartthrobs who clearly lack the plumbing that might result in their facing the heartbreaking decisions that must follow an inintended pregnancy) are weighing in on the debate. (Badly).
In case you aren't aware of what's been going on with our neighbours to the South:
Here's an article from today outlining how South Dakota is considering a law in which killing abortion providers could be ruled a 'justifiable homicide.' I am not even shitting you here, people. You cannot make this crap up:
And Planned Parenthoods across the U.S. have been infiltrated by 'incognito' anti-choicers digging for dirt in the hopes of getting public funding withdrawn.
And the political scenario with regards to said funding is looking increasingly grim as well, with Republican representatives putting forward bills that would strip federal funding from healthcare providers that also provide abortions (like Planned Parenthood), as well as bills that would strip women of public and private insurance coverage for abortions. One particularly lovely bill put forward by Rep. Joe Pitts (R-PA), the “Protect Life Act” (excuse me while I throw up a little bit in my mouth), actually seeks, in addition to other lovely things, to prohibit states from ensuring that women have access to information about how to get access to abortion services. The House Leadership’s FY 2011 continuing resolution proposes to completely eliminate the Title X family planning program, which has connected millions of American women with health care since Richard Nixon signed it into law in 1970. Of course, these proposals do not just affect women's access to safe abortion services - they also would effectively cut off access to affordable birth control and reproductive health services (like, um, paps, cancer screening, free counselling services, STI screening and treatment and on and on and on).
This is scary. Scary. Scary shit, folks.
And uber conservative states are hopping aboard the 'force women to have an ultrasound to look at the life she's killing' before providing info and access to abortions. In total 10 states have tried, or are in the process of trying to pass this legislation. (Some states have failed - go South Carolina, but I digress.)
I am pro-choice. I will always be pro-choice. Becoming a mother has made me even more pro-choice. To be perfectly clear, what I mean by pro-choice is that women facing unintended pregnancy must have access, information, and support, whether she chooses to take the route of parenting, placing a child for adoption, or abortion. None of these roads are easy. And no one wants to be in the position of having to make those choices. And I REFUSE (and I mean refuse here people) to debate a woman's right to choose what happens to (and in) her body.
I will steadfastly refuse to debate this right until the day when:
1. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' adopts at least 2 of the children already alive and needing our assistance. And not just cute, perfect, healthy (and most often white) newborn little people. I'm talkin', you know, the 'hard-to-place' ones;
2. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' explains to me why they (and their ilk) remain in steadfast opposition to my people providing safe, loving and nurturing adoptive and foster homes to the aforementioned children;
3. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' starts spending more time raising money and resources to help feed and cloth and educate and find good and safe homes for the shamefully high number of starving and abused children already alive and suffering right here in our own backyards (not to mention to world over);
4. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' fights for better sex education, and easily accesible information about birth control and safer sex choices to all people, of all ages, and all income levels;
5. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' can explain to me the moral relativism that makes shooting abortion providers reasonable and rational;
6. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' can explain to me how creating a society in which back-alley abortions in which women and often near full-term babies die, in which women attempt to perform abortions on themselves causing irreparable damage, in which women desparate to hide their pregnancies, birth alone and then do shockingly awful things like dropping newborn babies in dumpsters) because fear and desparation and lack of supports can make people do shocking and awful things), is anything but counterproductive to the cause of helping make children's lives better;
7. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester can somehow explain to me how 'no child left unborn' makes more sense than 'no child left unloved,' 'no child left alone,' 'no child left abused,' 'no child left unfed,' 'no child left uneducated,' 'no child left unwanted;'
Then, and only then will I sit and debate whether or not it's ethical to force a woman to be a human incubator for 10 months (that's how long it actually is, folks) against their will, because they fucked up (for all kinds of personal and/or systemic reasons), or worse still, because they were fucked up upon.
Really.
This kind of shit just incenses me. Pisses me off. Because you know what? I care about 'the children' too.
(So Justin - please. just. stop. talkin'. Truth be told, I'd actually prefer it if you stopped singing too - but I'm not looking for miracles here. Just a smidge of some good common sense.)
In case you aren't aware of what's been going on with our neighbours to the South:
Here's an article from today outlining how South Dakota is considering a law in which killing abortion providers could be ruled a 'justifiable homicide.' I am not even shitting you here, people. You cannot make this crap up:
And Planned Parenthoods across the U.S. have been infiltrated by 'incognito' anti-choicers digging for dirt in the hopes of getting public funding withdrawn.
And the political scenario with regards to said funding is looking increasingly grim as well, with Republican representatives putting forward bills that would strip federal funding from healthcare providers that also provide abortions (like Planned Parenthood), as well as bills that would strip women of public and private insurance coverage for abortions. One particularly lovely bill put forward by Rep. Joe Pitts (R-PA), the “Protect Life Act” (excuse me while I throw up a little bit in my mouth), actually seeks, in addition to other lovely things, to prohibit states from ensuring that women have access to information about how to get access to abortion services. The House Leadership’s FY 2011 continuing resolution proposes to completely eliminate the Title X family planning program, which has connected millions of American women with health care since Richard Nixon signed it into law in 1970. Of course, these proposals do not just affect women's access to safe abortion services - they also would effectively cut off access to affordable birth control and reproductive health services (like, um, paps, cancer screening, free counselling services, STI screening and treatment and on and on and on).
This is scary. Scary. Scary shit, folks.
And uber conservative states are hopping aboard the 'force women to have an ultrasound to look at the life she's killing' before providing info and access to abortions. In total 10 states have tried, or are in the process of trying to pass this legislation. (Some states have failed - go South Carolina, but I digress.)
I am pro-choice. I will always be pro-choice. Becoming a mother has made me even more pro-choice. To be perfectly clear, what I mean by pro-choice is that women facing unintended pregnancy must have access, information, and support, whether she chooses to take the route of parenting, placing a child for adoption, or abortion. None of these roads are easy. And no one wants to be in the position of having to make those choices. And I REFUSE (and I mean refuse here people) to debate a woman's right to choose what happens to (and in) her body.
I will steadfastly refuse to debate this right until the day when:
1. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' adopts at least 2 of the children already alive and needing our assistance. And not just cute, perfect, healthy (and most often white) newborn little people. I'm talkin', you know, the 'hard-to-place' ones;
2. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' explains to me why they (and their ilk) remain in steadfast opposition to my people providing safe, loving and nurturing adoptive and foster homes to the aforementioned children;
3. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' starts spending more time raising money and resources to help feed and cloth and educate and find good and safe homes for the shamefully high number of starving and abused children already alive and suffering right here in our own backyards (not to mention to world over);
4. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' fights for better sex education, and easily accesible information about birth control and safer sex choices to all people, of all ages, and all income levels;
5. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' can explain to me the moral relativism that makes shooting abortion providers reasonable and rational;
6. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester who claims to care so much about 'the children' can explain to me how creating a society in which back-alley abortions in which women and often near full-term babies die, in which women attempt to perform abortions on themselves causing irreparable damage, in which women desparate to hide their pregnancies, birth alone and then do shockingly awful things like dropping newborn babies in dumpsters) because fear and desparation and lack of supports can make people do shocking and awful things), is anything but counterproductive to the cause of helping make children's lives better;
7. every sign-holding, anti-choice protester can somehow explain to me how 'no child left unborn' makes more sense than 'no child left unloved,' 'no child left alone,' 'no child left abused,' 'no child left unfed,' 'no child left uneducated,' 'no child left unwanted;'
Then, and only then will I sit and debate whether or not it's ethical to force a woman to be a human incubator for 10 months (that's how long it actually is, folks) against their will, because they fucked up (for all kinds of personal and/or systemic reasons), or worse still, because they were fucked up upon.
Really.
This kind of shit just incenses me. Pisses me off. Because you know what? I care about 'the children' too.
(So Justin - please. just. stop. talkin'. Truth be told, I'd actually prefer it if you stopped singing too - but I'm not looking for miracles here. Just a smidge of some good common sense.)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Getting stuff done
I am often frustrated and down on myself because I can't seem to get anything accomplished. I start the day with good intentions, I start 'x, y, or z' tasks with good intentions, and then somehow at the end of the day, it looks like I've mostly gone backwards.
In the past, I've been inclined to chalk this up to my ineptitude as a homemaker. (and truth be told, there is still some truth to this).
But yesterday, I had an eye-openning experience.
I put Girlio down for her nap. I plunked Boy-o in front of a Diego video (his current fave. Nay - his current love affair!) with the promise that after a brief half hour run, we would do his super-fun kids yoga video together. Can anyone guess how long that half hour run actually took me? Anyone?
(drumroll please!) One hour and 17 minutes.
Yes. For real. I was interrupted and had to hop off that f*cking treadmill nine times. Nine times! Boy-o didn't like that episode. Or the next one. He had to pee and needed me to come with him. Then he didn't like the next episode either. Girlio awoke wretchedly early from her nap and I tried in vain to resettle her while Boy-o non-cooperatively shouted and banged unknown objects in the basement below us. Boy-o had a temper tantrum and begun hurling himself about and screaming at bloodcurdlingly at me because I refused to get off the treadmill for a tenth time to do I-can't-even-remember-what. This all culminated in me having a temper tantrum and yelling something highly innappropriate, like, 'GODDAMIT - can't you just give me 2 minutes? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR TWO MINUTES!', which of course resulted in a child crying wounded my-mama-is-bad tears and me feeling rotten and terrible for the last two-ish minutes of my very, very disjointed (and can I say, highly unfulfilling) run.
This. This right there - is exactly why I can't get anything done. It's not that I'm a crappy housewife. (Okay - if we're being totally honest - it is also because I am a crappy housefrau). But mainly - mainly it appears to be because I have children.
A rotten way to spend an hour and 17 minutes? Most definitely.
But a breakthrough nonetheless!
In the past, I've been inclined to chalk this up to my ineptitude as a homemaker. (and truth be told, there is still some truth to this).
But yesterday, I had an eye-openning experience.
I put Girlio down for her nap. I plunked Boy-o in front of a Diego video (his current fave. Nay - his current love affair!) with the promise that after a brief half hour run, we would do his super-fun kids yoga video together. Can anyone guess how long that half hour run actually took me? Anyone?
(drumroll please!) One hour and 17 minutes.
Yes. For real. I was interrupted and had to hop off that f*cking treadmill nine times. Nine times! Boy-o didn't like that episode. Or the next one. He had to pee and needed me to come with him. Then he didn't like the next episode either. Girlio awoke wretchedly early from her nap and I tried in vain to resettle her while Boy-o non-cooperatively shouted and banged unknown objects in the basement below us. Boy-o had a temper tantrum and begun hurling himself about and screaming at bloodcurdlingly at me because I refused to get off the treadmill for a tenth time to do I-can't-even-remember-what. This all culminated in me having a temper tantrum and yelling something highly innappropriate, like, 'GODDAMIT - can't you just give me 2 minutes? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR TWO MINUTES!', which of course resulted in a child crying wounded my-mama-is-bad tears and me feeling rotten and terrible for the last two-ish minutes of my very, very disjointed (and can I say, highly unfulfilling) run.
This. This right there - is exactly why I can't get anything done. It's not that I'm a crappy housewife. (Okay - if we're being totally honest - it is also because I am a crappy housefrau). But mainly - mainly it appears to be because I have children.
A rotten way to spend an hour and 17 minutes? Most definitely.
But a breakthrough nonetheless!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
zombies have eaten my brain
It's the only explanation for why I can't sit down and write anything clever or interesting in this blog these days. (Hell, I can barely make myself sit down and try to be clever or interesting).
Or maybe it could also have something to do with the fact that Boy-o has finally dropped his nap, and by the time my evening 'break' comes around - my eyes are rolling back in my head and I can't speak in full (or sometimes even partial) sentences.
Or maybe it could also also have something to do with the fact that this is February. And though they try to save this god-forsaken month by throwing in a wee long weekend and a holiday involving flowers and chocolate, February is still always the worst month in the year for me. The middle zone of a long, long, cold winter with no spring in sight. Yup. February. It can suck the life outta anyone, I say.
Nahhhhhhh.
Let's go with zombies.
Wayyyyy more interesting a predicament than loss of naps and February blahs.
Or maybe it could also have something to do with the fact that Boy-o has finally dropped his nap, and by the time my evening 'break' comes around - my eyes are rolling back in my head and I can't speak in full (or sometimes even partial) sentences.
Or maybe it could also also have something to do with the fact that this is February. And though they try to save this god-forsaken month by throwing in a wee long weekend and a holiday involving flowers and chocolate, February is still always the worst month in the year for me. The middle zone of a long, long, cold winter with no spring in sight. Yup. February. It can suck the life outta anyone, I say.
Nahhhhhhh.
Let's go with zombies.
Wayyyyy more interesting a predicament than loss of naps and February blahs.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Kids in Song
Boy-o may be showing an early inclination towards penning songs...
Take for example Boy-o's recent spin on a once popular Tom Cochrane song: "Life is a driveway and I'm going to be there all night long, hey hey hey heyyyyyyyy."
Or a reconfiguration of a P!nk song: "So what? I'm still a rockstar. I got some rock boots and I don't need yoooouuuu!"
And here is a song that Boy-o wrote himself, shouted out loudly and accompanied by random guitar strumming (er, slapping?):
"Nothing everrrrr ends!
Everything is lovvvvvvvvvvvve!
ga-dinga-dinga-dong!
This is my happy skydiving song!
Love! Love! Love! Love!"
Love indeed, my existential skydiver.
(Girlio, is more inclined to one song over and over again these days. "Rinky rink rink. I ooove you. Rinky rink rink. I oooov you." For those who are wondering - it's a Sharon, Lois and Bram classic, but I'll keep ya guessin' if it's not immediately evident).
Take for example Boy-o's recent spin on a once popular Tom Cochrane song: "Life is a driveway and I'm going to be there all night long, hey hey hey heyyyyyyyy."
Or a reconfiguration of a P!nk song: "So what? I'm still a rockstar. I got some rock boots and I don't need yoooouuuu!"
And here is a song that Boy-o wrote himself, shouted out loudly and accompanied by random guitar strumming (er, slapping?):
"Nothing everrrrr ends!
Everything is lovvvvvvvvvvvve!
ga-dinga-dinga-dong!
This is my happy skydiving song!
Love! Love! Love! Love!"
Love indeed, my existential skydiver.
(Girlio, is more inclined to one song over and over again these days. "Rinky rink rink. I ooove you. Rinky rink rink. I oooov you." For those who are wondering - it's a Sharon, Lois and Bram classic, but I'll keep ya guessin' if it's not immediately evident).
Friday, February 11, 2011
absentee
Lately - I fear I've become a but of an absentee parent. Don't get me wrong. I'm here. (Where the heck else would I be?) Physically. The kids are getting their relatively nutritious three square with some meh-nutritious snacks thrown in. They're getting their naps. Their outdoor run-arounds. The laundry is done. Dinner gets made. Somehow.
But I'm checked out. Not focussed on the smalls. There's been too much tv. Not enough edu-ma-catin'/interactin'/let's-sit-down-on-the-floor-and-hang-out'in. I'm not proud of it. But that's the truth of it.
Is it burn-out? Boredom? Depression? I don't really know. What I do know is that lately everything is taking more energy (particularly of the emotional variety) than I seem to have. And so my tots are watching too much telly.
I've decided I'm not going to feel guilty about it. (I know their are parents out there reading this squirming in their seats at the mention of too much television and not enough interacting. So be it.) I'm not super-mom. (There - my secret's out). Hell - I'm not even sorta-super-mom. The good news is my tots are actually too smart without my edu-ma-catin' help. And I'm sure this parental listlessness won't last forever. At least I think it won't.
Given my penchant for being brutally honest about my parenting foibles, you can rest assured that I'll be sure and let you know.
But I'm checked out. Not focussed on the smalls. There's been too much tv. Not enough edu-ma-catin'/interactin'/let's-sit-down-on-the-floor-and-hang-out'in. I'm not proud of it. But that's the truth of it.
Is it burn-out? Boredom? Depression? I don't really know. What I do know is that lately everything is taking more energy (particularly of the emotional variety) than I seem to have. And so my tots are watching too much telly.
I've decided I'm not going to feel guilty about it. (I know their are parents out there reading this squirming in their seats at the mention of too much television and not enough interacting. So be it.) I'm not super-mom. (There - my secret's out). Hell - I'm not even sorta-super-mom. The good news is my tots are actually too smart without my edu-ma-catin' help. And I'm sure this parental listlessness won't last forever. At least I think it won't.
Given my penchant for being brutally honest about my parenting foibles, you can rest assured that I'll be sure and let you know.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
and in the queer news today...
Big queer love goes out to the New Democrats for bringing forward the transgender protection bill! And a big ole queer YAY!, it made it through the first hurdle. And now it's off to the Conservative Senate... so, I guess, as we parents love to say: "We'll see." (You'll find particularly heartwarming how critics of the bill worry that this bill will be used to protect pedophiles. Really? Really? We're still there?? Anyhoo.)
http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2011/02/09/ndp-transgender.html
And big queer flip-da-birdy goes out to Dr. Phil. Dr. Phil advised a woman in the throes of hysteria that her son played with 'girl toys,' not to let him do it any longer. Yes indeedy. Quick to point out that playing with 'girl' toys did not mean her son was gay, Dr. Phil felt it best not to reward the behaviour in case it led to further 'confusion'. Yup. Yes. He did. Keeping those (ridiculous and unnecessary) gender restrictions firmly intact. All in a days work...
http://www.advocate.com/News/Daily_News/2011/02/09/Dr_Phil_No_Girls_Toys_for_Boys/
http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2011/02/09/ndp-transgender.html
And big queer flip-da-birdy goes out to Dr. Phil. Dr. Phil advised a woman in the throes of hysteria that her son played with 'girl toys,' not to let him do it any longer. Yes indeedy. Quick to point out that playing with 'girl' toys did not mean her son was gay, Dr. Phil felt it best not to reward the behaviour in case it led to further 'confusion'. Yup. Yes. He did. Keeping those (ridiculous and unnecessary) gender restrictions firmly intact. All in a days work...
http://www.advocate.com/News/Daily_News/2011/02/09/Dr_Phil_No_Girls_Toys_for_Boys/
Sunday, February 6, 2011
How lucky we are
I just had the most perfect way-longer-than-necessary-bedtime-snoogle with my sweetly sleeping Girlio. I will never cease to be amazed at the rejuvenating power of moments such as those.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Zach Wahls Speaks About Family
Oh Zach. You do this mama's heart good.
(And how I wish I could write that Iowa voted the right way.)
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