| Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ||
| 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |
| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |
| 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |
| 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 |
John Scalzi: The Android's Dream
Light, quick-humored, wacky SF.
John Taylor Gatto: The Underground History of American Education
Henrietta Stickland: Dinosaur Roar! Board Book
It's about dinosaurs, so...
Marc Brown: D.W. the Picky Eater
One of the "Arthur" Books. They have loved Arthur books since we went to an "Arthur" exhibit at the Children's Museum
Shel Silverstein: Where the Sidewalk Ends: Poems and Drawings
They showed no interest in this classic a year ago, now they are memorizing and requesting poems.
« November 2007 | Main | January 2008 »
Reader Haben Girma tipped me off quite a while ago about this video produced by the UK Disability Rights Commission. I just finally got around to finding it, though. It's funny and rings very, very true. YouTube cuts it into two parts, each about 5 minutes each.
Part 1:
Part 2:
Chapter 1: Zoo Lights
Zoo lights kinda sucked most of the time and it was mostly my fault for not thinking it through well enough. The kids (and by kids I mean Aaron) broke my white cane, so I've been using another telescoping sorta sucky one. On the train, I threw it in my bag. After a half-hour train ride, I got off and somehow no longer had it.
Okay. Well, I'm meeting another mom so that makes it easier, and there are supposed to be a lot of lights, right? So maybe I will be able to see better than I usually can in the dark. But I waited and waited and waited at the designated spot, and she didn't show. I waited for about 40 minutes and walked around a bit to see if I missed her, but the kids were getting antsy and I had a decision to make. Should I go it alone or get back on the train and go back home? I decided to go over to where the entrance of the zoo was and see how I did. I didn't do well. I couldn't even tell where the line was or where to go to get in. It was one of those things that was going to be dangerous and miserable to get through, so I turned to go back home.
Right when I was turning back to head to the train, she appeared. It seemed that I had said to meet at the elevators closest to the zoo and she had only thought that there was one set of elevators coming up from the train station and was waiting at the other one. I did walk up to the other one once, but we must have missed each other. (BTW, in case the person in question ever reads this, I hope you know that I'm totally not mad at you about this. I was just frustrated by the whole situation I sort of found myself in. Mistakes/misunderstandings happen and its all good. Not like I haven't made a bajillion mistakes based on a misunderstanding.)
However, at that point my kids had sat through a 1/2 hour train ride and another over a half an hour wait. Then about a 15 minute wait in line. Then, we decided to head for the train ride. You have to buy tickets at the front, which is dumb, because then if you change your mind you've already paid. So, I wouldn't have waited in this train line if I were on my own. (Not that I said anything, so again, no blame except on myself here). Anyway, since I couldn't see, I had NO FREAKING IDEA how ungodly awful long this line was. I kept thinking we were at the end of it and just steps away from the train and then we would turn onto a whole 'nother subsection of line. It just went on and on. So, in addition to the kids' already hour and a half long wait to do something fun, We must have waited for the train for at least another hour. My kids were miserable at this point and it was just the point of no return for them. I was letting them in and out of the stroller and then they would want to be carried and my arms were aching and then Naim would throw a shit fit every time the line went away from the train and it was just a pain and not fun.
Naim getting impatient in the train line. He sucks his finger while holding on to the other arm when he's upset. He's always done this. It's kinda weird.
Then, after the train ride, I got lost. We had parked our strollers in this designated space and when we got off, she went that way and I must have missed the turn and just followed the crowd out. So, with two kids in tow, I had to find my way back IN the train area. This is where I knew I had seriously fucked up and the situation was out of my control. I had NO CLUE where I was or where I needed to be. All I could see was a mess of disorienting lights. I couldn't even see people to ask for help. I asked a few passersby if they knew how I could get back to the stroller area and they didn't know short of going through the entire train line again. Thankfully, the kids were being good and dutifully holding on to each of my hands, but I kept thinking, "Kids? As you trustingly follow your mother, you have no idea how much she is fucking up on the job right now." I was actually using them as my 'guide dogs' to watch out for steps and stuff.
I knew I needed to find someone who worked there who could get me through, but it was too dark to see who worked there. So, I asked 'The Next Person Who Walked By' to help me find someone who worked there. She had trouble as well, but finally we found someone who was holding those lights that airport people use to direct the plane with, you know? And he basically cut me through the entire train line and finally found my friend and the strollers.
An aside: I can't believe sometimes how nice some people are compared to how snotty others are. The person who helped me find the employee, she had her own kids in tow and was totally wonderful about stopping everything to run around and figure this out with me, a total stranger. Then, when I walked with my two little kids through the line with an employee, people were snotting at me not to cut in line. Even when I told them I was just passing through the line, not getting in line, someone said, "Why does she get special treatment?".
After that, things got a bit better. We walked around the zoo and it was kind of a neat atmosphere with all the lights. We spent some time watching a brass band that was playing Christmas Carols. Naim really liked that. I was fascinated watching my friend and her daughter together. Her daughter is just a month or two older than mine, and she would so dutifully follow right behind her mother while her mother walked anywhere from two to six or eight feet in front of her. She just followed along like a little puppy dog. I think Naim could do that, but still I would be afraid in a crowd like that that people would get in between us and we'd get separated and I would never be able to find him. I need contact. And Aaron? Aaron would be gone forever if I let him go like that. He is a wanderer. If he gets more than four to six feet away from me in the dark like that with such loud noises, I'm done for.
Better times for Naim. Listening to music.
So, I had the double umbrella stroller, and I always kept one in the stroller while the other had to "help me push." And even this was tough. The stroller is wide and keeps running over people's feet and can't fit anywhere narrow. The whole night was an effort of intense concentration and alertness on my part. Exhausting. I was a bore, I had to work so hard on just keeping our shit together. This was a new friend and she was a rookie at being with me. I'm sure she'll never want to go anywhere with us again.
And the whole night I kept saying to myself, "I should listen to Emmie. She's SO right about the harnesses. This would be so much easier with harnesses. I should listen to Emmie." Emmie has used those cute little animal backpack harnesses with her twin boys. And has made really insightful comments about how kid harnesses have such a stigma and are looked down upon, yet everyone shoves their kids in a stroller for the same purpose, to keep easy control of their kids. And yet, aren't strollers (at toddler age, I'm not talking infants here) so much more confining than harnesses? At least with harnesses they could walk around some and explore and get some exercise. The other thing is, they don't have to use them. You can have the kids wearing the backpacks and walking with you, and just take out the 'leash' part of the harness if needed. Whereas if you choose a stroller, you're pretty much stuck with it and at least one hand occupied all the time. In the end, to not do something that makes perfectly good sense and will work for you and keep your kids safer while still allowing them some freedom just because you are worried about what other people will think is just stupid. (As if, with all the other reasons we'll get stared at, harness stares will be such a big deal.)
And lo and behold, a Christmas Miracle! I get home and waiting for me is an email from Emmie offering to send me their harnesses that they aren't using anymore. Yea! Emmie!
Naim on a hippo statue while Aaron stands by. I didn't get really any good pictures at zoo lights. Too busy getting my ass lost.
Chapter 2: The Weekend
For the past several weeks/months, I have had significant trouble sleeping, even though I am exhausted all. the. time. I actually can fall asleep really easily, but then I wake up anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours later and then I am up, anxiety ridden, till 5 am or even just never go back to bed. Then I'm so tired the next day that I can't get anything except the essentials done. I've tried limiting my caffeine, not watching TV before bed, thought it might be my 30 year old mattress I am using now and am looking in to replacing it. Then, on days when I go over to D's to work, I've been doing the bare necessities over there and then collapsing on the couch in a deep sleep while he watches the kids.
Finally, on a terrible Saturday night with no sleep at 7 in the morning on one of those days when I probably have had 5 or 6 hours of sleep in the last 72 hours, it occurred to me. This all started when the kids got to big boy beds and Aaron started destroying everything. (A condition which still comes and goes, it improved some before we had another setback). They haven't been really taking naps, either. The problem is that I don't feel like I am EVER off duty. Naim doesn't like me to go to sleep and turn off all the lights until he is asleep at night, or he starts throwing things around. Then Aaron starts throwing things around in the morning if he gets up before me. They never sleep for naps anymore. The place is pretty childproof but then I always fear those little things like what if they knock over a bookcase and kill themselves. They have already destroyed a lamp in their room. They knocked off the light bulb and it shattered to pieces. What if they electrocute themselves? What if they just simply pull all of the toilet paper out and TP my house with it? Its not the end of the world, no. But it kind of is when there are messes to clean up all the time. I spend my life cleaning these messes instead of being able to do anything fun with them. One more big mess can send me over the edge.
It is a cyclical problem where I know that their schedule needs adjusting, we need some new routines, they need some more outings and stimulation. Aaron especially needs more stimulation right now than it seems I can give him. I've been looking into preschools but many are too expensive or have a "3 by September" rule so I have to wait until next fall. I need a break. I can't get one. I don't sleep and am tired all the time, which makes me less able to find stimulating things for them to do and then they get bored and start destroying things again. And I'm never off duty. When I wake up at night, I usually think I awoke because something has happened or they need me. Or did I remember to put the locks on the closet doors? I better check. Or I need to go check and see if they both ended up asleep in their beds instead of (really!) Aaron falling asleep on top of the bookcase. I'm never done, I can never relax. Naim is a dream child mostly. If it was just him, or even two of him, I think I'd be okay. But Aaron, as it turns out, is a--shall we say--"spirited child." He is a challenge and I am not meeting his needs lately.
So over the weekend, my body just collapsed into flu and exhaustion and depression. I have not had a break from the kids (for more than 3 or 4 hours, which is rare in itself) for over three years. They have not ever had even one day apart from me or I from them. Its not right. I'm not sure what to do about it. You can say "get a babysitter" but it isn't so easy. All my affordable babysitting attempts have fallen through for various reasons. Right now, I am looking at possibly hiring a young man from my church who works in the nursery with the boys and they like him. The only issue is that he has (high functioning) autism. I don't think I could leave the house with him there. He still may be a great help if I can get some other work done or rest. Or if he can perhaps help with some of the housework kind of stuff (which I'm not sure about yet.) He also doesn't drive, so we'd have to work out transportation. I'm very interested in giving him a go, but I'm not sure how well it will work, or if it will work at all. But he's a nice kid and I'm thinking I can hire him for minimum, so we'll see.
But what this has to do with the weekend is that three times, D has come over and spent the day with the kids so I could rest. It was the only way I was not going to lose my ever-loving mind and even attempt to have some kind of Christmas for the kids. He has been a bit sick with a post-operative infection from his pump surgery. And his incision is a bit open now so the infection can drain out and he has to be careful. So it was with much guilt that I had him come over, but if he hadn't...I swear I was headed for hospitalization or something. I was getting so sick and tired that I couldn't think straight and nothing made sense that came out of my mouth. Just the very thought of my dad coming in January and bringing that dog that I will have to manage as well and clean up after was sending me right over the edge into middle of the night terrors.
Things are better, I have been catching up on sleep. But the problems remain. At least now I have a clearer head and can start to figure stuff out. I need to look at schedule. I need to look for regular outings that occur pretty frequently and will stimulate and wear Aaron out. I need to look at some more baby proofing (at this point, it is kid proofing and involves heavy duty locks, rather than those pansy-ass baby proofing products that he laughs in the face of) so that I can sleep and feel like he is at least safe somewhere. I need to pursue a regular babysitter, if not this kid then something else.
Sometimes it takes you going nuts to realize that there is a serious problem that needs serious action to be dealt with. So that was what this weekend was all about. I'll get there, but it is going to take some serious strategy.
Chapter 3: Christmas Eve
The only thing on the agenda for Christmas Eve was the church service, which I always found relaxing in previous years. The kids have done well the last few years, and I tried to set up the day so this year they would do well, too. I tried to make sure they were well rested but also a bit worn out, well fed but not needing to go to the bathroom for an hour, etc.
But! It was not to be. They seemed fine all day but when we got there, they wouldn't shut up so we went back to the 'cry room.' Our cry room actually is a little play room with windows and a speaker with the service piped in. Naim was fine after a while and I sent him out to sit with his dad. Aaron, on the other hand, won the contest for the Most Obnoxious Kid in the Room.
There were 3 or 4 other kids who ended up back there. Every time a kid would come in, Aaron would say,"I don't like him! I don't want to play with him! Go Away!"
Big fat roll eyes slam head into brick wall emoticon here.
Now, here is where again, I will never judge another mom again and I'm ashamed that I used to do this. One experience with a kid does not a bad kid make. Aaron is usually a pretty social kid who likes to play with other kids and can be very polite about sharing and trading and taking turns. But on this night, he was a brat. And he got a time out. And we struggled through the service and had a struggle to clean up all of our toys afterwords. We were going to go downstairs for their little social thing and they had the accessible door locked again (happens less and less these days, but still occasionally happens.) At this point, I was worn out and the thought of dragging my kids in the cold around the building and through two sets of staircases to go around and unlock the door for D was more than I could take, so I just wanted to go home. Which made Aaron scream bloody murder, because he wanted to go downstairs and socialize now, of course. Now he wanted to play with the other kids. So that was relaxing Christmas Eve at the church.
I put the kids to bed so D and I could have our steak dinner in peace, and that was nice. And then I sent him home so I could finish up all the present wrapping and stuff I still hadn't gotten done.
Chapter 4: Christmas
Despite all the crabbiness and all the--well--Aaron, Christmas actually turned out pretty good. I kept the kids upstairs and fed them breakfast up there until D and his dad got here at around ten. I had the train set sitting out in the living room and I carried Aaron to the bathroom and he caught a peak of it. But it was funny. He was all, "Gasp! A surprise! (sign for surprise) I saw a surprise! (sign)" I told him to whisper so Naim wouldn't hear about the surprise, so then he started signing everything while whispering. "Gasp! A train surprise? A present? For ME?"
The Xmas morning beeline. I don't know what that face I'm making is all about.
When I took them downstairs, they made a beeline for the train set. They were pretty excited and crashed the track and bridges almost immediately, which I knew was going to happen. That track assembly is going to take a bit of practice for them, but they'll get it. Luckily, we had other presents at the ready to distract them from track frustrations. We spent the morning happily opening presents. It went quicker this year than last year. Because this year they wanted "more presents!" while last year they would play with something a while until we nudged them along to open the next one. They are starting to get this whole present thing. Yea! Consumerism!
Aaron and Naim with the train set before the hurricane hit it and left the Island of Sodor in ruins; it's minority inhabinants to be left for dead by our classist regime.
Oh! Before I forget. On cue during the present unwrapping, as if in a oversentimentalized Hallmark Channel Christmas Special, another Christmas Miracle! It started to snow! Supposedly, it hasn't snowed here on Christmas in over 56 years! (Didn't stay on the ground, though. but was pretty to watch.)
Then we went to the Christmas Dinner thing at my church. And this time the door was unlocked. It was really nice. There were more people there than I thought would be, and they had all the tables set up with candles and china and there was wine and lots and lots of food. They set up a little kid area with a kid table and chairs and some toys and markers and paper. The kids got a gift bag with candy and a small toy vehicle in it. There was another boy about their age and this time Aaron played nicely with him almost the whole time. Aaron was pretty good except that he went to the dessert table and took just one bite out of four different pieces of fudge and then put them back. Luckily, people just laughed about it. Naim stuck with his dad mostly. Usually during potluck kind of things all I do is work because I have to get food, drinks, silverware,etc. for four people by myself while watching the rugrats at the same time. By the time I'm started eating, everyone else is done. There was some of that here, too, of course, but people actually ran and fetched things for me, like a drink for Naim or a fork or dessert for the kids. When you NEVER get waited on, I mean like EVER. And you are always the one who has to get up during a meal and fetch the juice, the butter, the seconds, the whatever, then you have to clean up afterwords as well--it is so nice when someone does something simple like just gets the kids some juice that it practically makes me want to cry. I almost don't know what to do with myself. Its silly.
When I go to social functions with kids now, time warps into something I call "Toddler Time." Even if I've had a nice time and the kids were relatively well-behaved, I think I have spent hours and hours somewhere and when I leave and look at the clock, its only been like two hours and I am shocked. This is what happened here. We were the first to leave, and I had the "get the kids to bed" excuse to use. But I thought we had been there at least 3 or 4 hours. Turns out it was only two. Well, that was enough. I'd go again next year. I figure each year these things are going to get easier and easier.
Appendix: The Loot
For both kids:
Naim:
Naim discovering the wonders of "More Presents!"
Aaron:
D helping Aaron unwrap. This is Scrooge of me, but I f*ing hate that Santa hat D wears every year. Which is probably why he wears it.
D:
Me:
*If you are wondering about gifts from my family, I have asked them to contribute to my "trip back to the Midwest" fund. My fake grandmother is 85 years old, and I am determined to try to make it back with the kids this spring/summer. It is expensive to fly for the three of us!
Christmas is catching me decidedly off-guard this year. Between hospitalizations, eye emergencies, belated Thanksgivings, Birthdays, and bacterial infections requiring daily IM injections (D), I just haven't been able to think about it and it is upon me and meh.
I haven't been able to shop much because for the last two weeks I've been heavily working on potty training Naim. I'd write the requisite post about it but I just...can't. Its not that it isn't going so well...there has been marked improvement...but it is a long road and very tiring. He is 100% potty-trained if I leave him in the house naked. He goes on his own, I don't even have to remind him. Put underpants on him and he drops to 75%. With pants as well it drops to 50%. Take him out of the house and it drops to 0% (except at Dad's house where we have a potty chair.) He is deathly afraid of the toilet. Its not the flushing, he likes to flush. It is the sitting on it that freaks him out. I've tried stools, little potty seats, he is freaked by it. Not sure how to jump that hurdle. (Ironically, Aaron has no problem sitting on the toilet but refuses to go.) He understands accidents now and doesn't like having them, so if we are out and he has to go, a crisis erupts. It makes it hard to go out. I've even resorted to pull-ups when we are out. The saddest thing about all this? When I figure this out and am done with him? I have a whole 'nother kid to do. Depressing.
So, I've done almost zilch Christmas Shopping. Not that I really wanted to get much stuff for them. I'm up to my neck in toys in a very small house. They don't need anything. I decided to get them one gift, a big gift that I know they are going to be ecstatic over. It is a trundle train set that can slide under their bed.
Other than that and a few small stocking stuffers, I wasn't going to get them anything else. I know that D got them some model space shuttles (they are space shuttle/rocket NUTS right now) and I think some kind of little dinosaur playset. (Cute as hell to see kids this age talking about Tri-SAR-it-TOPS and ty-RONNA-saurus RECK-s). So thought that was done, but then we have just received a very generous slew of donations in the past couple of weeks. Its a bit weird, we didn't ever ask for anything and these aren't given to us like presents, but people have been dropping by with small used toys and puzzles. So now I think they also are getting a few puzzles, a few books, and a couple of games (well, those I actually got off freecycle).
And then, the worst (yet very generous) toy came. It is big, it is plastic, the kids will LOVE it, and worst of all, it isn't assembled.
When I opened the box I was confronted with sheet after sheet of plastic shit that needs to be snapped apart and put together with screws. I can't even understand the directions and the parts are all labeled within the molded plastic itself and I can't see them unless I kind of Braille my way through it. I am totally dreading the prospect. I'm thinking of giving it up, but then the person who gave it to us will come over and its not like its a toy you can HIDE easily, so its absence will be noticed. I might let them play with it for a few months and then donate it somewhere. There just really isn't room for it. I'm not sure if this picture is it, but it is like this:
My other problem is D. I have NOTHING for him. Nothing. Whenever I think about it my mind draws a complete blank. I've had no time to shop and when I shop online, he is too hard to shop for. A lot of things I think of getting him need to be checked out for 'accessibility.' Will he be able to push the buttons on that? Will these pants fit over his prosthetic? Will this work on his computer? etc. He is really someone you have to shop for with him there to try things out. Otherwise, I'm going to have to join the Fleece Pullover Club(tm). The FPC(tm) are his family members who give him a fleece pullover for every. single. birthday and Christmas. They actually gave me quite a few as well back when they got me anything. Its not that he is against fleece pullovers, but if you are getting two or three a year, you end up having thousands. We always joked before we went to Christmas stuff, "Well, lets go get our fleece pullovers!" And on the way home, "I'm glad I got another black/gray/navy fleece pullover to add to my extensive black/gray/navy fleece pullover collection." Its not that we are seriously mad about the FPC(tm) its just become a running joke. But it is an easy choice for him. Shirts fit him pretty standard, unlike pants. He's always cold. Just grab an XL fleece thing and be done with it. I'm getting so desperate that I might have to sink to the level of the FPC(tm).
Or maybe I'll just hand him a wad of cash. I dunno. Any ideas?
I pulled out the tree last week, and I'm finding that I really hate doing it. My sister always complained about having a tree and so for years we never had one. At my mom's last Christmas, I insisted that we go out and get a tree. And I remember my dad saying in the Christmas Tree store (we don't do live trees), "We will always remember this as the time we bought your mom her last Christmas Tree." And he was right. I have that tree now, and that is what it always reminds me of. I feel like I can't get rid of it but yet I feel like I don't really want it, either.
Besides, it is too big for our living room, the automatic lights on it don't work anymore after we had a power outage last year. It is a bitch to put together and not that fun to do alone. I have only a few ornaments for it. I'm just kind of meh about it. I don't mind the stockings and a few other Christmas knick knacks. I'm contemplating perhaps just getting a few more decorations like that (wreath, etc.) next year and not having a tree. But D thinks this is sacrilege. "The kids need a tree."
So I'm trying to find a compromise. We have a pretty blue spruce in our backyard. What if we had a solstice tree? We can put outdoor lights on it and decorate it with edibles (bird seed pine cones, cranberry garland, etc.) for the animals? That is what the whole tree tradition started as anyway. It has nothing to do with Christmas. It was to honor the animals struggle through the darkest part of winter as the night shifted away from the darkness into daylight. Or maybe just a small tree indoors. I don't know. But I'm thinking after Christmas I might give this tree away to Freecycle. I still have a mom attachment to it, so I want it to go to a good home. I know, its a bit silly.
But I'm starting to get a little tiny bit psyched. Friday, weather permitting, I'm meeting a friend with a little girl my kid's age and we are going to zoo lights. Its where you ride the zoo train and see the billion lights they have decorated the zoo with. The kids will love that...and I'll be cold. So it is good to have another mom to be cold with.
Christmas eve we will do our church's evening service. We've done it every year and its about the most Christmas-y thing we do. There is no nursery care, so the kids stay with us. They do try to fill it with kid friendly stuff. Lots of music, bells, candles, little Christmas stories and skits. The kids have done well the last two years we've gone, so hopefully it will be okay.
We will probably come home and have nice dinner of fillet minion. I get a gift every year from one of my mother's friends. It is kind of a secret. For the last three Decembers, I've gotten a good sized shipment of Omaha Steaks . They felt sad not being able to send my mom gift they sent her after she died, so now they send it to me (well, it is really technically for Aaron and Naim, so they will grow into strong, Nebraska beef fed boys. Heh. But they don't like the steaks, but will eat the burgers). The most fun thing about it is that it comes packed in dry ice, and this year we had fun making "clouds" in my kitchen with the dry ice under water in the sink. The kids thought that was the coolest thing evah. So, we've had steaks for Christmas eve now, and that has become sort of a tradition. Maybe someday the kids will stop being finicky enough to join us, but usually I just make them a hamburger or hot dog while D and I eat the steaks. Its about the only time I eat that much red meat all year.
This year on Christmas, after unwrapping presents in the morning, we are going to our church's refuge Christmas dinner. Its just a potluck for anyone who doesn't have better plans. It is just kind of sad and boring and anticlimactic to sit around by ourselves on Christmas. And I want the kids to know other adults and have good and special memories of other adults on Christmas. Otherwise, after presents, it is not too different than an ordinary day. So we are going to try this, and the woman who organizes it has really gone out of her way to encourage us to come. It just seems to me that our kids don't have any extended family here, really, and there are other adults (many older folks) who are lonely because they don't have any grandkids to spend the holidays with...why not get together with them? Besides, then I only have to make one dish and not a whole dinner to clean up after. And I'm all for that.
Sometime here we need to make sugar cookies or something, too. That is a tradition I'm stealing from my MIL (not that 48 billion other people don't bake for the holidays as well). But that is one thing I always enjoyed about spending holidays with D's family. That they had cooking/baking traditions. So I'm trying to incorporate some of that. Naim absolutely positively LOVES to cook. Aaron likes it, too. But Naim is always running in wanting to help me cook whenever I am in the kitchen. And it is such a teachable experience. You do math, reading, fine motor skills, sequencing, sensory/texture stuff, etc. Cooking has been a real Naim and Mom thing where we get to really spend time talking and doing stuff together. Its something I would like to make sure we always do at Christmas.
So that's the plan. Except for D's present and the potty training, I think I've managed to make it enjoyable, traditional, and not too pressure filled. Hope yours is as well!
Blogs are wierd.
As I've said before, I get numerous google searches for "I Hate Oprah" because of a post I wrote off the top of my head almost 2 1/2 years ago in which I did not say I hated Oprah, but complained about her fans.
Last week, two interesting things happened in that regard. First, the "I hate Oprah" searches and views of that post skyrocketted. Second, a reporter from the Houston Chronicle contacted me for an interview regarding the post.
I believe the reporter, Corilyn Shropshire, is freelance. She said that the story might be in the Sunday (Dec. 16th) edition of the paper, or it might not. I'm kind of going to use this post as just a place holder for reference. If or when it is published, I will put a link to it here, but thought I would cut and past the whole email interview because I am always afraid in the minor amount of press I get that I will be taken out of context. So, just for kicks, here is the interview:
Hi Lisa, Sorry to keep bothering you, but I figured that if you received an email from my Houston Chronicle email address ( I’m in the office today) you might believe that I’m legitimately a reporter and feel compelled to agree to an interview. Again, I’d like to take a few minutes of your time to discuss what prompted your Oprah posts ( James Frey?) two years ago and what the response and discussion was like for you. Were your commenters mainly Mommy bloggers like yourself? Do you think that there are others – who might fit the Oprah demographic as snuggly as you do – who dislike Oprah and her “minions” as you call them? ( great word by the way). After this, I promise to leave you in peace. But this topic – a story about the often unheard-of Oprah detractors, is timeless and a good one. Thanks so much! Please give me a ring. Best, Cori
Hi, Cori, Oh, the Oprah minions! I'm half afraid that if I do this interview they will come after me! That post was written over two years ago and was basically in response to the Brooke Shields/Tom Cruise couch jumping thing. It was comments I was getting from what I call couch "oprahologists", or people who diagnose other's mental state based on Oprah or Dr. Phill style psychology. The post is still the main google searched and most read post on my otherwise low key, low readership site. "I hate Oprah" are the search terms that I get constantly. Since the Barack Obama thing, the posts views have gone up dramatically based on those search terms. You may or may not have gathered that I am deaf. It would be better for you to email me your questions and I'll see if I can shoot off quick and coherent answers to them. I don't do well with phone interviews. If you want to do it that way, then I will check back in a few minutes and try to get it done in a timely manner. Do you have a specific deadline, timewise? If so, let me know. Thanks, Lisa
Her Questions:
By the way, your missives on why you find Oprah and her fans irritating were a great read. I figured your blog would be pretty popular. Hopefully, after my story runs, this interview will have been worth your time.
I wonder if that means anything that – the "IHateOprah" search term has become increasingly popular since Oprah's been out stumping for Sen. Obama? Do you have any figures on the dramatic increase to your site? What do you make of the post views rising?
Can you briefly describe the response you received from your blog post – were there a flood of comments? It seems like it went on – for two years…
http://blog.iblamethepatriarchy
aka The post that will probably get me into a lot of trouble.
My sister and I were talking the other day about how she still gets (and I used to get) all of the questions about WHY doesn't she have children? I mean, its not like its the law that every woman should want to have children, right?
But this made me think of a question I still get, especially since having children and the lead up to children. "Why aren't you married?" Or, "When are you going to get married?" Or "Why don't you want to get married?" Just today I had lunch with J, who is in his late 40s and in luuuuv and engaged to get married, despite the Pacific Ocean that separates him and his fiance. I am very happy for him and I really enjoyed spending time with him today. But then the subject of my state of marriage came up and I did one of my tactless blurt outs:
"Men are 90% useless when it comes to relationships."
Yeah. I don't have issues.
But I kinda think I really don't. This is an academic issue for me and I'd like to qualify this statement. First of all, to prevent any confusion, D and I really do have a BIG insurance issue standing in our way. So marriage to him is beside the point. However, and I love D and he is family and I've said this before, I don't know that I'd marry him anyway because I just simply don't want to be married. Our relationship works on many levels, much better than some married couples I'd say. But one of the reasons it works is because we have so many mitigating issues surrounding disability and how we have to live to meet both our needs that it overrides some other big issues. Just for a really simplistic example: D and I don't fight about who does the dishes, who diapers the kids, who makes dinner and who vacuums because he can't do it anyway. It's irrelevant.
I'd like to think that if he could, he would be completely enlightened and he would see us as 100% equal partners and do all this stuff without question. But chances are good that he wouldn't, at least initially. The way he was raised, using his brothers as examples (which is not totally fair, but that's the little I have to go by) they are entrenched in patriarchal thinking. Male privilege. To D's credit, I think if anything, disability has enlightened him to what it feels like to be treated as subhuman, and has opened his mind to learning about the issues women face. So, it is a bit of a catch-22. If he wasn't disabled, he might be a bit of a chauvinist and not treat the partnership equally. But since he is disabled, he understands these issues that are important to me, but many times can't demonstrate it in concrete ways. But one of the things I most love about D is that he doesn't base his ego on stupid testosterone induced male pride and get all hung up about it.
But back to the usefulness of men. What I meant to say, and not that this is much better, but anyway...90% of men are useless when it comes to relationships with women. And of the 90%, there is certainly a continuum of usefulness. Many men of my generation might be in the top 20% of usefulness, while men of the older generation are perhaps lower on the scale, just based on different generational views and upbringing regarding women. So, what I am actually saying, is of the bell curve of men's usefullness in a relationship, my criteria to even bother with trying is only the top 10%. And by top 10%, I don't mean the top ten in traditional ways, like best looks, most money, most prestigious career, whatever. I mean in their usefulness as an equal partner, respectful, loving husband, kind and generous, conscientious, responsible, mature, honest, courageous, etc. Those kind of things.
Okay. I am FAAAAAR from perfect, but I always said that any guy I would marry had to have his shit together at least as much as I do in these areas. And it always seems to me that that only leaves the top 10%. Arrogant, much? I know, I know. But what I'm getting at here is that I don't consider myself to be in the top 10% of women in these areas. I'm probably just average. What I'm getting at is the discrepency between men and women that I don't want to put up with.
I know. I'm digging myself into a deep pit.
But come, come join me. Let me throw you a shovel. I will also qualify this to say that I have many male friends who I quite enjoy and some who I love dearly. I see their humanity and all their good points and things they have to offer. Besides D, of course, I love his dad, despite our differences. I love my first boyfriend, Kory and always will. I love Nik. I love J. But to enter into a lifelong commitment and equal partnership? There are very few guys out there who could pull off the kind of partnership I want. A patriarchy free one, as much as possible at least. Very few men are up to snuff to make it worth my time and effort. I know that sounds just like the "I don't think all blacks are bad, I have a friend who is black." line. I do understand that it is an unfair statement to generalize all men in this way. And I don't feel like I am doing that so much as observing a social trend that affects both men and women.
In fact, J must be my special special. I must love J so much because I held my tongue and even coughed up a "well, there might be a grain of truth" to his example of that asshat quack John Gray and his stupid Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus drivel. Did you know he isn't even really a doctor? His stuff is misogynistic crap that basically gives men a "biological" excuse to be pigs. Here, for your entertainment, some great John Gray quotes:
"It's such a big deal, 'Well, I didn't get my 20 minutes of clitoral stimulation, so how can you think about penetrating me?' This is all feminist stuff that came in, and women are brainwashed with that. They should have it. I'm not against that. Women should have great sex. It will make better marriages for men."
"Does one spouse owe the other sex? The man goes out and risks his life for this woman. The man works hard for his family. What does she do for him? She has sex for him whenever he wants. That's what sex was. Sex was always for the man. What's this sex for the woman thing?...It's takes 30 minutes [for women] to have a real sexual experience. How do you have sex for 30 minutes every day in a busy life with kids? You don't. But you can do two minutes whenever the man wants."
(From an interview with Yahoo! Internet Life Magazine.)
No wonder his wife left him. My point is that I don't think the trend of men being worthless in relationships is in anyway inherent to the fact that they are men. I don't think it is in their DNA, I don't think men are useless in relationships in any way because they are inferior to females. I recognize that there may be some biological differences between men and women, but more and more research supports that the differences are minor. We are not from different planets, so much as we perhaps just have a different dialect when speaking the same language.
I think that men tend to be useless in relationships because for thousands of years, they had no expectations to live up to. Or very few in regards to accountability to their relationships with women. Women were property and thus could be treated as such. How men treated their property was based entirely on his prerogative, not on her rights or her humanity. Has this gotten better? Absolutely. But thousands of years of patriarchy does not go away overnight. Women have been forced to set their expectations low and men have have been entitled to basically do as they pleased. It is so ingrained into our society that we don't even see it without a trained eye.
So, I call myself a feminist, which for the record, doesn't mean that I feel women are inherently better than men, nor should women rule the earth. Shannon does a remarkable job illustrating my view of feminism in this post. It is about recognizing the humanity of everyone equally while understanding that we are not identical with identical needs. But this won't happen unless men take responsibility for their actions and women expect the respect they deserve.
Here is where people are going to write to me and tell me how mentally screwed I am, or (and I always love these, cuz they prove my point) where someone inevitably comments that I just need a 'good fuckin'. Because of course, when a woman has an opinion that deviates from her requisite dire need of a man, she must just need to get laid.
But here we go: Nothing illustrated the patriarchy and its cruelty to me more than after I was raped. I haven't talked about this much because I really don't want the guy to find me, nor do I want to open up myself to the criticism that always follows rape victims, but here is the story in a very abridged (cuz gawd, I'm sick of this story) and somewhat disguised version:
College. Never heard of the term date or acquaintance rape before. Very, very young. Got a university sponsored ride from a university employed driver (along with several other students) to the airport, two hours away. Talked to the driver the whole trip, a fellow student several years older than me. Nice guy. Perfect gentleman. Went above and beyond the call of duty making sure I got to my flight on time and helped with my bags.
Two months later. At a BYOB frat party with a friend. She wants to make a booze run, we are underage. She asks me if I know anyone at the party who can do it for us. I (barely) know the driver guy. He takes us for a booze run. My friend drinks, leaves with another guy. I don't drink, or drink very little. I'm not drunk. Getting late, driver guy asks to drive me home. Okay. Drives me to his dorm. I don't realize this (cuz I can't see) till we are out of the car and going up the steps. I realize it, I still go in with him. Sit around talking with a bunch of people in this guy's room. One by one, other guys and girls leave. We are left alone. We kiss. I (SUDDENLY!!, cuz I'm dumb) realize that he expects to have sex. I get up and say I don't want to have sex and head for the door. He apologizes. Sweetly. Convinces me that I shouldn't walk home at 4am (the danger!) and he is too tired to drive me home. He convinces me to stay to "just sleep." I stay. I fall asleep. I think I slept about 15 or 20 minutes and am awoken to him pinning me down and the rest I will spare you the details of.
So, my story is typical. You've all heard this type of thing before. We all know a girl who this happened to, right? And we all can see, with our aged wisdom and experience, the 300 things I did wrong to get myself in that situation. And I was naive. But here is the deal: The thing I did wrong, the thing that put me in the most danger, was in believing that my personhood would be respected. I believed, up until the very last second when I was physically overpowered, that I had complete control and autonomy and SAY in what happened to me and what I agreed and did not agree would happen to my body. Obviously, I was mistaken.
What was worse than that night was the reaction I got afterword from the few people I told, both men and women. It ranged anywhere from "how slutty of you" to "well, that's too bad, but what were you thinking???" Basically, the general attitude from everyone was, "well what did you expect when you voluntarily went and stayed in his room?"
Well, wild as this might sound, I expected to be respected. I expected that I would have a say in consenting or not consenting to any and everything that went on that night. When I thought about prosecuting, the main thing I heard about was how I was going to ruin HIS life. Basically, expectations were extremely high for me to monitor my behavior, but nonexistent for him to monitor his. I was supposed to respect my impact on his life but he was not required to respect his impact on mine. Thousands of years of entitlement and low expectations. This had nothing to do with him being from Mars. This was about misogyny and the lack of percieved humanity that I had as a woman. (BTW, I think it was Nik, five years later, who was the first to call bullshit on that line of reasoning and name it 'date rape'. Thats only one of many reasons he rocks.)
Now I do realize that this is an extreme example and most guys are not out there raping people. But even those who won't go so far as rape still carry these attitudes. It is everywhere. Men (and some women) seem to be very confused about rape. This is the litmus test:
At any time, at any moment in any situation, and no matter how she got there, a woman should be able to voluntarily get up and walk out of the room. Even if she consented to sexual actions, even THE sexual action and even if they are in the middle of doing THE sexual action. I'll even spot the guy a ten second reaction time. But at any moment, no matter what she was wearing or what she said or did, she should be able to stop what is happening and walk out of the situation. Now, I'm not saying the decisions she made that got her in the situation were good ones or wise ones or even nice ones, and the guy is free to end the relationship with her if he doesn't like her decisions. However, he is not free to rape her. End of story. Is this so damned hard to figure out?
So, take Kobe Bryan. His situation happened almost 15 years after mine. And I use that situation because it was similar to mine. The girl kinda liked him, she voluntarily went into his room, she might have consented to some sexual acts, and then she did not consent to others and she wanted to stop and to leave and was not allowed. Tons of men, men who I know were not bad men, men who would never rape anyone, said things like, "Well, she should have never gone into his room." Or, "she confused him by consenting to this and not to that." Or, "how was he supposed to stop? Guys get to a point where they can't stop." Or, " She is going to ruin his career." Her identity was leaked numerous times by the press. She received death threats. She was made into a villain. It was "blame the victim" at its worst.
Rape situations sometimes really illustrate how far we haven't come as a society in our ability to see woman as humans rather than objects and property. The standards for men's behavior are so low, and women have to sacrifice SO much sometimes to have a relationship with a man, it is very hard to find truly equal partnerships.
Most of the time, the low standards are much more benign than rape, of course. It is the guy who comes home from work and sits on his ass while the wife makes dinner, cleans up, gives the kid a bath and puts 'em to bed. Or the guy, like the uncles I grew up with, who grouch, "Woman! Get me a beer!" Or it is the husband who agrees to fix the broken stairs a month before the child's birthday party and then doesn't. Suddenly deciding to get his power tools out DURING the party. (True story.) Or another true story: Mom has been working on potty training junior. Asks dad to put off re-tiling the only bathroom for a week until the kid is back in daycare. And he up and rips the bathroom apart while the kid is home all day and has his first day of big boy underpants. Or (another true story, I read too many blogs.) the husband who spends all of his non-working hours playing Second Life on his computer having cyber sex while lying about it to his wife. He completely does not understand why spending his time having virtual sex with a real woman online instead of spending time with his family might be upsetting to his wife. Or the guy who skips his autistic kid's long awaited referral with a specialist to go to a Ferrari convention. Or it is the husbands who think that they work all day while the wife doesn't work. Or gets upset if the wife makes more than him. Or (in phony Ph.D and divorcee John Gray's case) the husband expects the wife to drop everything to give him a quickie but never seems to have time to return the favor. Or calling the type of intimacy that delivers the orgasm for women "foreplay"--an optional precursor to the MAIN EVENT! --the part where the man gets his. I hear about this shit every day and I never understand why women put up with it. Is it just because we have such low standards? Is it the necessity of economics? The exhaustion of raising children alone? How do we get out of the cycle?
There are just a thousand little ways that men don't have to measure up. It is deeply embedded in our society. It is the invisible backpack of entitlement that men carry and women almost don't recognize. And to some extent, men are victims of it as well. I think in the majority of cases, it is entirely unintentional on men's parts. It is for them probably like being a well-intentioned white person who doesn't see their own privilege and sees themselves as being colorblind. Men are often raised this way. It is in every aspect of our culture. Just last week I was lazily folding laundry while watching General Hospital. A successful business woman gives up her career and surrenders to the seduction of a man who is a mob boss (and a 'good guy'!) and can't guarantee her safety, yet won't give up his lifestyle so that his girlfriend and children won't be killed. I know its a soap, but this is still acceptable as romance today? They even had the protest-protest-protest-surrender kiss scene. Un-fucking-believable. Its everywhere.
I also recognize that women aren't perfect and often contribute to this by playing right into it or have a "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em attitude". My MIL's generation is full of master manipulators. And I think some women have learned this as a survival technique. If you can't gain power by money or brute strength or position in society, then you manipulate to get what you want. Women are taught from birth how to do this. How to use their bodies, how to trick men into getting what they want. Venus and Mars are all about manipulation. Oprah and Cosmo have articles about how to get your man to do what you want them to do by playing to their ego or sexual desires. Girls are told that the toys they should want at Christmas time are play kitchens and dolls and ironing boards and princess costumes and dolls heads to put make up on. Boys get heavy machinery and superheroes and footballs and toy swords and violent action figures. Toys that focus on power and strength. We are still, in 2007, taught from birth that men are powerful and do important things and women are here to be pretty and clean up after the men and their children.
Although we can't totally reject the patriarchal notions that have been driven into our brains from birth, like we can't really be totally cleansed of the racism we were raised with, we can recognize it for what it is. And here is where the great guys come from. They are out there. They are the men who recognize what is going on and conscientiously work to make sure that they are acting in ways that are not contributing to it. They recognize the humanity and worth of women and don't play stupid Mars/Venus games or act entitled to sex or beauty or a hot dinner waiting or a clean house. They understand the difference between making love and just getting laid. And they understand that the patriarchal bullshit is ingrained in them and will never really go away but they will do their best to try and minimize its impact on their lives and the lives of the women they love. They are out there. I know some of them. They are the 10% that are not useless.
And unfortunately for the most part, they are married. I think they all got scooped up by the woman who were self confident and expected to be treated with respect while girls like me were guilt-tripping ourselves with our misplaced culpability in our own rapes or were being self-conscious about our blindness or our fat or our zits or whatever. I admit it, I was too busy being a victim of the patriarchy (and wallowing in my victim hood) to get one while the gettin was good. Or I got too old and too set in my ways to want to train one in, and the trainable ones are too young for me now.
Yes, now I know I'm an old spinster at 37. And I'm not allowed to like it. But I do. I like my autonomy. I like living my life on my terms. I like not having to play the Mars and Venus game. I like that I can set my own standards as to my personality and standards and appearance and not have to play into guy expectations. It seems like you either have to compromise your standards or choose to be single. I like my choice.
Yes, I know. My standards are too high. I hear this all the time. My standards are too high if I want an equal relationship with a guy who understands and supports feminism and human rights. If I want a guy who not only refrains from saying "I'd hit that" but who doesn't cheer along when his buddies say it. If I want a guy who is not insecure around a smart or successful woman who doesn't feel like her main job is to feed her husband's ego. If I want a guy who can sit down with me and negotiate a conflict in a direct and amenable way for both of us and not let his entitlement or ego get involved. I know that no one is perfect, but I would want a guy that at least understands what an equal relationship is and does his best to strive for it.
I really don't feel like this is sour grapes, this isn't an uptight woman that needs to get laid. I can get laid anytime I want, as can most women, so I never understood that whole line of thought. This isn't a bitter old maid that is making excuses for not having a husband or a lesbian wanna-be or whatever else I get accused of. I do not hate men. I understand to the extent that I can that they are under their side of the patriarchal pressure as well and it can be hard to impossible to see above that. I see the good in men. I enjoy their company. I have many that I love and admire and even lust after a few (Okay, that guy Logan? On General Hospital? He is the only reason I watch that intrepid drivel. That's pure lust, I admit it.) I can see the good in men even though I can also recognize the weaknesses. They are human and deserve the same acceptance and level of respect as women. They deserve to be treated individually and not as a demographic, which admittedly I have failed to do here. I'm extremely lucky to have a long time relationship with a man who, if not always practices equality, understands it and is willing to listen and learn about my frustrations. And who sees me as a fellow human above all else and who tries to contribute what he can to the extent that he can. I have two boys who I love unconditionally and who have in them both the influence of their father and the DNA of another man who I appreciate. I have a father, who although far from perfect in many respects, is responsible and was accepting of my mom as (almost) equal partner. He's about 100% times better than many other men from his generation. I have NIk who is good-hearted and funny and forgiving and smart and tough. And J who is sensitive and witty and almost precious in his rose-colored lack of awareness of all things unjust in the world. I'm not lacking for men in my life. Men who show me their goodness and kindness on a day-to-day basis. Those guys? Top 25 to top 15, at least. ; )
But marriage? The whole institution bugs me. I'm not compromising. I'm opting out, and I'm perfectly fine with that.
First of all, thanks for all of your comments on the TMI post. I'm thinking about pursuing the Mirena option, although it squicks me out a bit. But I've done some research and as they say, "It's not my mother's IUD." I'll let you know how it goes.
And yeah! The kids are three! Holy Crap how did that happen. We had a nice day at a local pizza place with an indoor hamster cage playroom. D's dad came with us and we had an unplanned meeting with a friend of ours and her little boy, so that was fun. The kids made birthday cake with me and we had cake with D's dad. We gave them each one small present (little airplanes) and a present to share (a doctors kit.) And that was it. (Party in the summer.) Pictures are on D's camera, so I'll put them up when I get them.
Three years old is a big milestone for me because I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief about my paranoia that they would be removed from my care. I know this is quite arbitrary. It is based entirely on a comment that was made while I was in the hospital with them. But this comment ran over and over in my head and I would imagine myself as a mother of three year-olds. Where we would be and how we would get there. It seemed so very far away back then, like centuries away. But it came so quickly! And its here and we did it and no one can say we didn't or couldn't. So, okay, here is the letter I've been thinking about writing for three years. But couldn't write it until the kids were three, as you soon will see why. I might have to do some edits and shorten it up of course, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to send it. So here is the letter to the maternity ward director where the kids were born. And crap, I can't figure out the formatting. Sorry, folks. It seems to happen every time I Xed something out
December 8, 2007
Dear XXXXX,
I was a patient on the maternity floor of XXXXX Hospital Suite
I am writing this letter because of several comments that were made by your staff concerning our ability to parent our children. Most notably, a comment overheard by a friend of mine as she waited in the hallway near the nurses station in which a staff member said that even if my partner and I managed to care for our babies the first month, they would definitely be taken from us by the time they were three.
This was not the only comment made in regards to our ability to successfully parent our children. A CNA (who referred to us as ‘welfare cases’) told a pediatrician right in front of us that the ‘word on the floor’ was that if left alone to us, our children would not be fed and cared for. We also were told by a lactation consultant that I did not have what it takes to breastfeed and should probably give up my pumping and feeding schedule. There were other slights and judgments made in regards to our ability to parent as disabled people.
This was extremely distressing for us during a time when we were in need of support. I had just had a retinal detachment and lost most of my remaining vision 3 weeks prior to the birth and had had a difficult eye surgery and bed rest leading up to the birth. My children, particularly Naim (Twin #1), were going through the usual problems that many premature babies go through, such as jaundice, low glucose levels, and a lack of a good sucking and rooting reflex. I was also recovering from a C/S and could not find a level of pain medication that didn’t make me extremely drowsy. I was not at my best, and I took the advice of our childbirth class instructor, who told me to use the hospital stay as much as possible to rest and recover. She suggested that I put the babies in the nursery at night and to not be shy about asking for the nursing staff to assist with their care while I was there. This is advice that sounded reasonable to me, yet apparently backfired.
I feel that the preconceived notions regarding the abilities of people with disabilities caused us to be unfairly judged and thus perhaps led staff to make decisions that were not in our children’s best interest. For example, other premature infants without a developed rooting and sucking reflex are often treated with an NG tube until their ability to eat on their own develops more fully. Perhaps this was a judgment call that could have gone either way. But in the four to six weeks following his birth, Naim was seen several times by a WIC dietician and nurse, a XXXX County
The other way these judgments and prejudices were harmful to me was the stress and fear they induced when I had to hear such comments. I did not know how far this would spiral out of control. Every time the door opened, I wondered if some social worker was going to come and take my children away. I was not able to rest and recuperate in the hospital; I was put on the defensive. One reason I did not accept hardly any pain medication was because I did not want to be mentally compromised if I had to fight for my right to keep my children. I cannot even describe to you the insult added to injury that the words of your staff caused my partner and I. We literally became fearful of some of the staff and watched our every move, making sure that we did not ask for or accept much help. We knew our every move was being scrutinized. This was not conducive to a recuperative stay for any of us.
I would like to take a few minutes now to tell us a bit about our family, and perhaps dispel any misconceptions you may have about us. I have a master’s degree in education and have taught school as well as worked at XXXXXX and XXXXX Children’s Hospital as a research associate and a child life therapy assistant. My partner Dwight and I met in college. His education is in computer engineering and he worked as a software developer at Hewlett Packard and now sells software for XXXX. We have been together for 13 years now. We are not married due to health insurance issues. He relies heavily on TriCare, military insurance he gets through his father’s service in the Marine Corps. If we married, he would lose this much needed secondary insurance. At the time of my pregnancy, I had recently changed jobs and was not able to have my pregnancy covered by my COBRA BCBS insurance due to the preexisting condition clause. I also receive Medicare through a disabled work program. I currently work as a CNA and as a writer for a disability education organization. Because of the job change, my pregnancy and our children’s first year of medical care was covered by Medicaid, which I paid a premium for. I imagine that this is why we were thought to be “welfare cases.” The children and I are now covered by a BCBS plan. We have a modest income, but we do work and we do meet the financial needs of our family. Regardless of this, I would hope that anyone who finds themselves utilizing Medicaid or other financial assistance could count on being treated in the hospital without judgment or rude comments.
As with any new parents of twins who had some eating and health issues, the first 3 months or so were tough, but slowly the kids got over their health issues and gained weight and began to thrive. We have occasional help from family, friends, and babysitters like everyone else, but we largely take care of our children entirely on our own. I developed a method for using a white cane while pulling the kids behind me in their double stroller. I learned to gauge diaper rash I couldn’t see by how they reacted when I cleaned their bottoms. I hooked up my hearing aid FM system to a baby monitor that would signal me when they would cry. DXXX developed ways to hold them and feed them by propping them on pillows. He could pick them up from the floor by using a transfer belt or just sticking his arm in the back of their overalls. We both developed ways to keep track of them at the playground using bells and lighted shoes and by starting small and setting clear boundaries while slowly expanding their world. Instead of sitting on the park bench watching them, I got to have the fun of following them up and down the playground slides as my way to keep track of them. There really has yet to be any parenting challenge that we haven’t effectively met.
They just turned three yesterday. And we still have them and have never been even close to having anyone threaten to remove them from our care. We have purposefully taken advantage of such programs as Healthy Start and the Washington County Public Health outreach program in order to have ‘witnesses’ that would vouch for us if there was ever a problem. These professionals have been in our home on a monthly basis for three years, and their time is coming to a close. We have always received complements on our parenting skills and how well the children are doing.
And they are doing wonderfully. They are healthy and well within normal range on the growth charts. They have met or exceeded all of their developmental milestones. They have learned both sign language and English and have that wonderfully hilarious vocabulary that three year-olds are known for. They enjoy trips to the park, the Children’s Museum, the Zoo, Church activities, and outings with other children. They enjoy traveling with me on the MAX and buses and are learning the rules for crossing the street (which in our case means they are learning traffic rules and patterns and the sounds of the intersection as well as red/green lights.) They will be starting preschool in the fall. They have no problem relating to our disabilities because it doesn’t seem like anything is different to them and I think this helps them to relate to others with differences. They are a joy to be around and they are the best decision I have ever made. They are the light of our lives.
I hope that by sharing our story with you, that you may look at the attitudes and prejudices that may be impeding on your staff’s ability to give the best quality of care to all of your patients regardless of their life circumstances. I want nothing more than to make you think twice the next time you have a disabled mom or dad in your care or anyone who may be struggling with a unique situation. And I want whoever said our children would be taken from us before they were three to know that they most certainly were NOT. There was never any reason to think that they would be.
I would also like to say that we do know that not every staff member felt the way that these ignorant people did. We did have wonderful nurses that seemed to go to bat for us. It almost seemed like there was a bit of a divide among your staff. We sensed a lot of ‘office politics’ going on that week that we might have been in the middle of. I wish I could remember all the names of everyone who was so kind to us. We were given the biggest suite and DXXX was accommodated with his own egg-crated hospital bed, which helped ease his stay with me. We had a wonderful nurse that helped me check out on the last day and gave me a hug and lots of encouragement. We had a nurse that was with us for the day shift for about three days and a night nurse that was very helpful. Now that I think about it, it seemed like the nurses that spent the most time with us were generally supportive, while those who only saw us briefly had the biggest misconceptions about us and caused the most stress. I think that proves that when people take the time to know us as who we are, not who they think disabled people are like; they don’t have any problem with us. Again, my point in all this is to encourage your staff to look at their prejudices and to share with you how much fear and stress it caused us to be judged in such a misguided way. No new mother (who has done nothing wrong and shown no sign of being unfit) should have to recover from a Cesarean and get to know and care for her preemie twins while being terrified that they will get taken away. That was nothing less than a nightmare.
Thank you for taking the time to consider my situation. I hope it helps you better serve future patients.
Sincerely,
Lisa XXXXX
A few of you know that I grew up in the Omaha/Council Bluffs Metro Area and have inquired about the Westroads Mall shooting. My first reaction is that I have a cousin who I thought worked there, and I hoped he was alright. But I since found out that he doesn't work there anymore. It doesn't appear that I know any of the victims (although D's aunt knows the landlord of the killer, so there is always six degrees, I guess.)
My second reaction is the memory of the sheer amount of clock hours, the embarrassing number of weekends of my life I spent at that mall growing up. Countless. I can still remember where every store was. I still remember the time I barfed in Seifert's and then took about 3 years before I entered that store again. I remember which of my high school friends worked there and where. The route I took around and around that mall just hanging out. So it is a bit surreal.
But my third reaction, the strongest, is sadness that these mass killings and seemingly random acts of violence by young men are becoming more and more common and that no place; no one is safe. And that now Westroads will have extra security guards in place and maybe metal detectors and employee security trainings and extra police response training and all that. And how that is so not the right way to deal with this. It is like placing all kinds of parachutes and netting and ambulances and books about how to respond to the medical needs of people who have fallen a deadly distance at the bottom of the cliff while completely ignoring the kids at the top who are running towards it.
Recently, in Oregon, a man committed suicide after he wandered for three days seeking help because he lost all of his belongings on a bus and had no money or I.D. or anything. He most likely had a mental illness. And he went to the Salvation Army and the Emergency Room and the Sheriffs office and the homeless shelter and the county welfare office. None of them gave him any more help than a coat or a meal and sent him on his way. So after wandering for three days, he put himself in front of a train and was killed.
I don't know this Omaha kid's story, I don't know whether he asked for help or what happened. But I do know that many non-profits and government agencies do not really help anyone but themselves. They all provide "education and referral" which is code for passing the buck to a different agency. I know that Nebraskan's, if they are like every one else in the country, will throw up their hands and say, "there were no definitive warning signs! We could not possibly imagine that this guy would walk into a mall and start shooting!" And then they will up security and that will be that. But there are ALWAYS warning signs. I'm not blaming anyone for what happened, but I do know that the number one warning sign is when people are regarded as throwaways. Hopeless, helpless, valueless people who are not worth dealing with and are brushed aside as being less than human. That is the biggest warning sign of all. The person you don't want to deal with and no one else does either? The one you don't want to touch? That is the one who will do something like this.
Gi
