Confessions

I feel like complaining. Feel free to share complaints too. Any comments that sound like "you should accentuate the positive, and not wallow in your own misery" will be summarily deleted. I'm taking this brief moment to wallow in my own, admittedly petty and middle class misery to get it out of my system. If my misery offends you, feel free to abstain from wallowing in it with me.
Let's get this pity party started:

• I think my son would whine less if I were a better parent.
• I feel inadequate when women with daughters the same age as my son talk about potty training their girls. (Even though I know girls are supposedly supposed to be potty trained earlier than boys.)
• I hate that my husband doesn't thank me for doing all the housework, even though I don't thank him for going to his job. I feel like it makes me a hypocrite.
• My son hates getting his diaper changed, which means that I hate changing it because He flails his legs, and squirms around for all he's worth. I'd let him sit in his poop all day if it wouldn't leak out and make a mess.
• I think the pediatrician was annoyed with me for letting my younger son's circumcision heal poorly. I didn't know how to prevent it, and it was easy for him to fix.
• I'm afraid to mention that I had my son circumcised for fear that the anti-circumcision crowd will swoop in to condemn me.
• The floor of my house is messy, and most days I'll just put on shoes instead of sweeping it up.
• I'm terrified of roaches, but I can't be bothered to sweep up the spilled food under my toddler's chair frequently enough to be sure we won't get infested.
• I feel like a bad person for using paper-towels and disposable disinfectant wipes to clean because they're bad for the environment.
• I repeat that line to myself as an excuse to avoid cleaning.
• I claim to hate some things more than I do, so that I can feel like a good person for doing those things anyways.
• I hate that dressing up and wearing makeup makes me feel better about myself.
• I get depressed during the summer in Phoenix because I never go outside since the heat is nearly unbearable.
• I've been using face wash on my butt hoping it will get rid of the blackheads-- it seems to be working.
• I wish I didn't have breasts. They get in the way, and they'll only get worse as I get older.
  
• I want to take tap dance lessons, but there are no intermediate classes for people my age. I can either take lessons with 10 year olds, or 60 year olds, or people my age who are *way* better than me and on their way to being professional dancers.
• I want to play competitive soccer again.
• Even if I found a tap class or a soccer team I'd have to wait until my baby is older to join because I wouldn't have enough time between feedings to do those things.
• I haven't been to a dentist for nearly three years. A few months ago I finally got up the courage to call a dentist and set up an appointment. When I went to my appointment they wouldn't even see me because I was pregnant. The receptionist acted like they wouldn't treat me if they knew I was breastfeeding either. I don't know when I'll have enough courage to go back, even though I know I need at least one root canal, if not two.
• I'm jealous of the friends my husband has at work, but am afraid to tell him because he'll tell me what I already know- that there are people at church I should try to be friends with, and that it's my own fault if I won't even try to make friends.
  

Infuriating

Maybe it has to do with the fact that I was much younger and living a bubble at the time, but the whole R. Kelly sex-tape thing is news to me. Aside from all the classic 'celebrities are above the law' reading about it made me really mad. Consider the following:

Adult man urinates on your house or car, it's vandalism.
Adult man urinates on your dog, it's animal abuse.
Adult man urinates on another man, could probably be considered assault and would likely result in an arrest.
Adult man urinates on a woman and it's 'sex act.'

Things that are acts of simple violence on anyone or anything else become "sex" when it's done to a woman. I don't fall in with the 'all sex is rape' camp, but when things like this happen I can certainly see where they're coming from.

Fed up

I am 39 weeks pregnant with my second baby. Every evening for at least the past two weeks (or more) starting at about 6:30 I start having contractions. They are, more or less, painless, spaced 10 minutes apart and continue until I go to bed around 10. I am at once incredibly fortunate, and unfortunate that this is how my pregnancies go.

Let me describe the delivery of my first baby. It was a Sunday, and though I was vaguely uncomfortable during church it was shaping up to be a day just like any other. At 2:45, shortly after our home teachers left, my water broke and I started having painful irregular contractions. After my water broke we left immediately for the hospital, and at 4:15 (90 minutes later) my son was born.

After the fact I was able to recognize that I was having what is called silent labor. I was most likely in labor for days, completely unaware and having painless contractions. By the time I was made aware that I was in labor I was already well into the transition stage. While this made for a blissfully easy birth (only 90 minutes of pain!) it has led to weeks of mental anxiety for me now.

You see, I don't want to have a baby in the back seat of any one's car, at home with just my toddler and cat to attend me, or at the grocery store or anywhere else in between. I don't want to have a baby at the hospital without my husband there, yet because my husband has a 30-50 minute commute, and the hospital is a 30 minute drive away from our house this is a very real possibility.

When I was told 2 weeks ago that I've started dialating I've been on pins and needles ever since. I've been afraid to go anywhere lest my water break while I'm at the store or library alone with my toddler. I reluctantly watch my husband leave for work every morning painfully aware that for the next 8 hours I'm on my own if I go into labor. I fixate on every discomfort and contemplate if it means I should go to the hospital or not. And every evening I sit quietly with my hand on my tummy (the only way I can tell when they start or stop) and time my clockwork-like contractions attentive to any change in sensation, reluctant to give up and go to bed. (Because who wants to get all ready for bed just to have to dash to the hospital once you get comfortable?) This also sets my nerves on edge and lowers my patience, which later leads to guilt for being short-tempered with my husband, son and cat.

Being constantly on edge like this has really taken its toll on me. I'm having trouble sleeping (on top of regular pregnancy sleep troubles), and I'm feeling more and more depressed. I'm starting to think that I'd take the hours of physical pain over this mind-numbing paranoia.

All of our trials are uniquely our own. I'm sure there are countless women out there who could handle this much better than I can, and there are probably quite a few who would do much worse than I. I'm sure there are even women who would chastise me for daring to complain about being pregnant at all, because that is a blessing that, for whatever reason, they don't have. Yet the comparisons aren't fair, I am now and always will be me. The difficulty others perceive in things that are easy for me should not lionize my success or validate my failures. Likewise the ease with which other people could handle my lot should not denigrate the trial that it is for me.

My Top 10 Fictional Male Role Models

While reading Digg this afternoon I came across a list of the Top 100 Fictional Male Role Models (warning, the site is rather lewd, I don't know what pop-ups there might be or ads there might be). I was bitterly disappointed in the list. Not only was it filled with characters that shouldn't really be anyone's role model (Freddy Krueger, Borat, Keyser Soze) but it was also very poorly ranked (Zach Morris (yes, from Saved by the Bell) managed to rank 35th, above MacGuyver, Aragorn, and James Bond.) So I've put together my own top 10:

We're having power troubles here, so I'm posting this without links or commentary for now. I will return to fill it in later (maybe even with pictures!) as I've already lost it once and my son just woke up from his nap.

10. MacGuyver
9. Vincent from Gattacca
8. Horatio Hornblower
7. Wesley AKA Farm Boy from The Princess Bride
6. Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird
5. Ned Nederlander from The Three Amigos
4. Andy Dufresne from The Shawshank Redemption
3. Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings
2. Bishop Muriel from Les Miserables
1. Albus Dumbledore from Harry Potter

Modesty

There is a discussion going on at FMH that spurred a few thoughts for me, (actually it's a resurrected discussion, that seems to be turning into a free for all). The discussion moved on before I could submit my comments so, they're going here instead! (Good thing too, cause I haven't posted for who knows how long...)

1. Modest v. Appropriate
To be modest is to avoid the sin of pride and vanity. One does this by not seeking undue attention or praise, and by showing respect for one's self and God. Therefore, to dress modestly is to dress in an unassuming fashion, to avoid extravagance or extremes, to follow guidelines set by God and to display respect to one's self, peers, and surroundings. Displaying respect to one's self, peers and surroundings through clothing choices is what I term 'dressing appropriately.'

Modest clothing is not always appropriate and appropriate clothing is not always modest, though a modest person will seek to dress appropriately whenever possible. I find it extremely unfortunate that the vast majority of discussions on modesty focus exclusively on dressing appropriately, more specifically on women dressing appropriately. Modesty is a lifestyle that we are all commanded to live by, not a criteria for women's clothing choices.


2. Reflexive v. Controlled Response
I can't stop a bird from flying over my head, but I can keep it from building a nest in my hair.
In the discussions of appropriate dress for women (the ones often called discussions on modesty) a the thought frequently brought up that a woman's inappropriate dress causes impure thoughts in men. This thought normally continues along the lines of 'Impure thoughts are sins. Therefore, to prevent men from sinning, women should dress modestly.' This thought process is strikingly similar to a common bit of rape apologia that says 'Immodestly dressed women incite men to lust after and rape them. Therefore women should dress modestly to avoid being raped.'

I think that the initial statement is false; that is to say that a woman's inappropriate dress does not cause impure thoughts in men. A woman's inappropriate dress does cause a reflexive response in men. Reflexive responses are not impure thoughts, and are not sins. When men choose to grab a hold of those reflexive responses and dwell on them then they become impure sinful thoughts. Men, therefore, are not captive to the whims of inappropriately dressed women, because the first step in thinking impure sinful thoughts (or raping) is the man's choice to dwell on the inappropriately dressed woman.


3. Intentional v. Unintentional My husband is incredibly ticklish, and it would be very rude of me to tickle him when he's trying to talk to someone, or when he's trying to work, or other similarly serious situations. It is similarly rude for a woman to intentionally dress inappropriately with the goal of distracting the men around her. Even though the men may not be sinning when their reflexes react to her appearance, they still have to deal with the distraction, and must recollect their thoughts every time their reflexes go off. It is considerate and polite to dress appropriately at all times, and youth should be encouraged to dress appropriately.

The trouble is, such behavior is only rude when it is intentional, and all too frequently women, especially young women, are not intentionally dressing to distract men in a sexual way. They dress that way because the magazines said that it flatters their figure, because it's in-style, because that's how their friends are dressing, or simply because that shirt used to fit just fine three months ago. It is rather conceited of men to assume that women see themselves through men's eyes, and always dress with men's thoughts and reactions in mind. We should all be much slower to think of a woman as 'dressing like a whore' when she wears sexually inappropriate clothing, because chances are she's not doing it on purpose at all.

In summary, we do everyone a disservice when we make sexually inappropriate female dress the only meaning of immodesty because avoiding such dress has more to do with good manners than modest behavior, and we miss the opportunity to teach everyone the real benefits of a modest life. We do everyone a disservice when we blame women's appearance for men's sins because it restricts women and allows men to believe they are helpless and out of control. We are rude to men when we disregard their reflexes and the resulting distraction, and we are rude to women when we assume their clothing choices are made maliciously with men's reflexes in mind.

It's alive!

It's true, I'm back. I've finished and recovered from my stint as a full-time guest blogger, and shall now return to posting my screeds here. Thanks to everyone who hosted me as a guest, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I think the challenge of writing for a larger audience did me good, at the very least it made me appreciate the comforts my quiet little site a bit more. As promised earlier here are links to all of the posts I wrote at all of the blogs I visited.

At Exponent II

Fleshpots and Manna
Horror Stories, Fairly Tales and Scriptures
Microcredit
At Arms Length


At Feminist Mormon Housewives

Hubris
Just for Women
Vicarious

At By Common Consent

Negetive Definition
Married to a Martyr
Playing with Fire
A Non-Christmas Post


At Times and Seasons

From Russia with Love
Tooth Bugs
Appropriate Requests
Perfection

Shopping for Shame

I may have mentioned this before, but my school district had a comprehensive sex-ed program for which I am grateful to this day. In reading a few things recently about shame and embarrassment surrounding sex, I felt another wave of gratitude for the teacher I had.

One of the assignments she gave us involved filling out a table with information about various over the counter contraceptives. She told us that much of the information could be obtained from various sources, but that the form was designed to make it necessary to go to a store and look at the packaging in order to fill it out completely, and only complete forms would be given full marks.

A few years earlier I was dealing with menstruation. The first time I had to buy feminine hygeine products I was overwhelmed with embarrassment- a feeling that I picked up from my sisters, friends, and advertisements. I can also remember trying in vain to open the packing silently in the stall of a public restroom horrified at the idea that the tell-tale crinkling would give away the true nature of my visit to the restroom. (Incidentally I've heard that "Quiestest Packaging" is now a selling point for some hygeine products.) I also remember one day, simply saying to myself "Aw to heck with it!" From that point on I made a point of crinkling the wrapper as loudly as I could, then staring down anyone who dared to look at me. I made a point of smiling congenially and making idle conversation with the cashier of the grocery store when purchasing pads, almost daring them to try and make me embarrassed. That was a liberating change, and I quickly learned people just don't care that much, and the ones that do will be embarrassed by your brazen shamelessness leaving you in peace.

When completing my sex-ed assignment a few years later I was, once again, overwhelmed with embarrassment. I walked past the condom section two or three times, pausing slightly then rushing on. Finally, in the greeting card isle I had another "Aw, to heck with it!" moment. It was getting late, I had an assignment to do, and good grades meant a lot more to me than avoiding dirty looks from shelf-stockers. So I became as brazen as I was shy, and camped out in front of the condom display until I had finished my assignment. I quickly learned that, just like with pads, no one cared.

I realize now that her main goal in giving this assignment wasn't to teach us critical package reading skills, but to desensitize us to dealing with contraceptive items in public. In our "nod-nod, wink-wink, know what I mean?" culture, getting over the shame is a vital skill I think every teenager should learn. I still vividly remember that experience and call upon my those heartening memories any time I need to buy any sort of embarrassing item.

Getting Lost

Once many years ago I got lost. It was awful- let me tell you about it. It was during my fifth year of girls camp and I was a YCL (youth camp leader). For those of you out there unfamiliar with girl's camp all 16 and 17 year old girls are assigned to a different ward and act as assistant leaders for that ward, and for the whole stake. Part of my YCL duties included going on the second year hike with the 14 year old girls and a few leaders. This hike had to be 4 miles long and we had to cook a meal on the trail. We started out at 8AM and hiked for two miles, we stopped to cook breakfast then continued the hike. It was around the third mile that things started figuratively going downhill.

The person leading the hike was a very experienced woman who had spend decades hiking the trails in the region both by herself and with her husband. There was one problem though, she has really bad self esteem. So when the girls started feeling tired they started complaining, and the ill-advised cries of "we're lost!" came from one or two voiciferous girls who hoped that making such statements would get them back to camp faster. The other leaders, who were not familiar with the area (and oddly enough were all men), heard these cries and 'held a meeting' to determine the best course of action. The lady in charge insisted that the trail would get us back to camp, but was 'less sure' of how many more miles it was. Finally the woman caved and agreed that we should try to find a different route. This was the first of many such meetings.

Over the next several hours we broke every rule of hiking and getting lost that I have ever heard of. We did all of the following at least once:
Left the trail
Jumped a fence
Kept wandering even after we knew we were really lost
Split up (The female leader took off on her own at the behest of the other leaders)
Went in circles

Had I been older and more forthright I would have spoken up. As a youth leader I was given the task of keeping track of the younger girls while the real leaders had ther many meetings, no-one cared to hear my opinions. It was only when the diabetic girl in the group started to complain of feeling faint that the remaining leaders were finally persuaded to stay put and wait to be found. I gathered the rest of the girls and commenced building a fire, thinking that if we did end up having to stay the night we would need a fire, perhaps those looking for us would see the smoke and at the very least it kept us busy (and hey, who doesn't like building a fire?).

About a half hour after the fire got built we were found (40 yards or so from a road) and a truck was brought to drive us all back into camp. The other leader who had gone off by herself finally arrived at camp at about 8pm, very tired and moderately dehydrated.

I suppose there are a few morals to my story. The first is that they really mean it when they say what to do when lost- Stay Put, Don't leave the trail and Stay together. Had we done that from the get go we would have been found much much earlier. Then again, I wouldn't have this great story to tell. The second, even though you may not be a real leader, you should still speak up when the real leaders are violating common sense. Lastly, when you know you're not lost you know you're not lost, letting others believe you know less than you know isn't humility it is foolishness.

She-Cop

There was a news item that I found via Digg. The Reader's Digest Verision is this- A 200 lb 6th grader at a local middle school was tasered by a female school resource officer for attacking a female classmate. Many details about this are generally unknown (esp. to me), such as what level of force was attempted before bringing out the taser, the availability of other adults, the nature or severity of the fight between the students etc. One semi-important thing that is known, is that the boy was tasered twice, because after the first shock he attempted to continue the fight.

Whether or not the Taser was excessive force, or better or worse than a punch in the face was discussed at length in the comments on Digg, so I'm not too interested in discussing that. What I do want to take issue with is the number of comments to the effect of: "If this woman couldn't subdue the kid without resorting to a taser then she has no business being a cop." Comments such as these were frequently accompanied by assertions that the police force was so much more effective and less trigger-happy before women could become cops.

Part of the reason these comments bothered me is that my sister just recently graduated from the police academy and is now working as a baliff. Part of her training (and I am under the impression, all police training) included being tasered so that the police understand at least to some extent what it feels like, and to avoid potential tigger-happiness. Often they video tape each officer being tasered, and let them keep the video, a quick search on YouTube turns up a large number of videos like this. As a unrelated-yet-interesting aside, my sister showed us her video, and unlike all the videos I've seen of people being tasered she didn't make a sound. I'm not even sure that the small gasp I heard was in pain, or just a by-product of the involuntary muscle contractions. During the rest of the video all other other officers (mostly men) kept glancing at her sideways the newfound respect they had for her was obvious.

Back to the should women be cops issue: There is the obvious elephant in the room of statistical averages. While there are women like my sister who are bigger and tougher than the average man, women are more likely to be smaller, and physically weaker (at least in upper-body fighting strength) than men are. However, this does not mean that small women (and men) should not become cops just because they are likely to encounter someone bigger and stronger than they are. Just as there are statistical outliers among women, there are men who are bigger and tougher than not just the average man, but everybody. These large men are bigger than all cops, not just the female ones, and any cop would have to use a taser on these guys rather than attempt to subdue them with physical force.

Mostly I just wanted to get it off my chest that having a woman, even a small one as a resource officer in a middle school is not unreasonable. One would expect a trained adult woman to be larger and physically stronger than the vast majority of middle school students. That there are statistical outliers, like the 200 lb 11 year old involved in this incident, should not be used as an argument against employing women, or the small of stature in general, as police officers. Such an argument- taken all the way to its logical conclusion- would require hiring only giants as police. It would also negate the need for weapons because such large strong people would never need to use a taser instead of their own strength to gain control of a situation. And, oddly enough, I'm a big fan of a police force armed with tasers. Unlike a punch or whack with a nightstick the damage done by a taser does not vary with the cop using it, and can be more easily regulated than hand-to-hand physical altercations.

Success!

The primary program was yesterday morning, and was a rousing success in every way. The kids all said their parts, even though one kid was too scared to sit on the stand and had to be escorted to the microphone by his mother to tearily deliver his part. They sat quietly and avoided making faces at the congregation. Lastly (and most importantly to me) they sang all of the songs perfectly and loudly! Even more shocking was that they sang without visual aids except for 'Follow the Prophet' in which there is a tendency to sing the verse about Adam over and over again except changing the names for the other prophets (ie, Noah was a prophet, first one that we know. In place called Eden...). Also after we were done singing the last song I looked out at the congregation and saw more than a few people wiping their eyes. And the kids had pizza, and got candy so I'm pretty sure everyone came out of this thing feeling good about it.

Now with next program a comfortable year away I am setting out to expand the abysmally small repetoire of the primary. As a group they know very few songs - so I've made a list of songs(below) that I think they should know. I plan to go through the list and find out which ones they secretly know, and which ones I'll have to teach them. We're starting out next week Thanksgiving style with "Children all over the World."


Here's the bulk of my list:
-I'm trying to be like Jesus
-Love is Spoken Here
-When we're Helping (we're happy)
-When Joseph went to Bethlehem
-Army of Helaman
-Teach me to walk in the Light
-Tell me the Stories of Jesus
-The Chapel Doors
-The wise man & the foolish man
-Stand up
-Reverently, Quietly
-Reverence is Love
-Rain is falling all around
-Our Door is always open
-Nephi's courage
-I'll walk with you
-In the Leafy tree-tops
-Jesus once was a little child
-My hands
-I feel my Savior's love
-I pray in Faith
-Every star is different


Any suggestions for songs every primary kid should know? (Keep in mind that this list excludes the songs they already know, so don't bite my head off for 'I am a child of God' not being on the list.)

Lifestyles

Alright, I've been tempted to submit "A day in the life of Starfoxy" post for FMH , but I keep thinking it's too boring for it to be worth reading (I get tired pretty easily lately so I spend lots of time laying around). So instead I thought I'd just write up a 'lifestyles' post and just explain some details of how I do a few things that work out really well, or alternately really badly for me. (I may polish this up a little bit and sumbit it anyways, but we'll see).

I'm a big fan of lists. When there are things I need to get done I always make a list. I've always thought it would be neat to have a special notepad, or computer program/widget that I consistently use to make my lists, but I normally end up just writing it on some piece of paper and sticking it my back pocket. When I try to use the notepad or widget, I forget about the list and things remain undone. I've come to accept that I am a 'scrap of paper in the back pocket' kind of list-maker, and have decided not to fight with what is effective for me.

In that same train of thought I make a menu every week. I write down what meals I'm going to make and on what days. This helps me plan to use food I already have, or other leftovers before they go bad. It helps me put together a strict grocery list that I try desperately not to deviate from while at the store, and it helps me not buy food that won't get eaten (I know some of us don't have that problem, my mother in law has a hard time keeping enough food in the house). The other thing this helps me do is avoid saying "Aw hang it all, I don't feel like making dinner tonight, let's go out." It is an excellent tool for tightening the budget on several fronts without feeling it too sharply. (In our college days, when we both were working and didn't have kids, I made my husband split the meal-making with me 50/50. He would cook three nights, I would cook three nights and we'd eat leftovers one night. It was easy to do because he picked the meals he would make when I made the menu and would pick in advance which nights he would cook. This way he was committed to it, and it allowed him to eat the things I wouldn't choose to make. This whole arrangement tickled his mom to no end when she saw the list on the fridge while visiting.)

We have a cat who is not allowed on the table or countertops. He is also not allowed in the dishwasher, the washing machine, the drier, and he's not allowed to attack the curtains. When he tries any of those things I hiss at him, and if he doesn't respond, I spray him with a waterbottle. I've found that the waterbottle also gets Nils' attention. I try not to spray Nils in the face, but a spray at the back of his head is normally punishment enough for pushing computer buttons or similar crimes.

My desk is an absolute horror. Anything I need to deal with, but don't want to deal with right then gets put on the desk. I often eat while reading or watching stuff on the computer, so there's empty cups and a half-eaten thing of oreos on the desk rather frequently. I try to get the dishes off of it every evening. They never stay for longer than two days. About once a month or so I clean the whole thing off thoroughly and feel good about myself for a few days. But 90% of the time it is a disaster. However, I can always find what I'm looking for.

I hate labels. We're not talking, Loner, Punk, Looser, type labels, though I do hate those too. I'm talking about "Softsoap" "Suave" "Dawn" "Crisco" "Kleenex" or in general the stickers on the front of just about everything you buy. Seriously, tomorrow morning in the shower look around you and notice how many brand names are etching themselves into your mind, building your brand loyalty. They're advertisements you pay to put in your home and I hate having them in mine. I remove labels from products frequently (I leave the back labels on for safety reasons), buy the store brand, or buy in bulk and remove the outer packaging. I hate the products that are actually really good, but come in packaging that you can't de-label. It's a quirk my husband didn't know about until we got married. He thought it was funny, but has never complained- as long as he knows which bottle the shampoo is in.

I almost always have three or more crafts or projects going at the same time. I hate that about me. I really wish I could just work on one until I finish it before starting a new one. Right now, I'm knitting a scarf, crocheting a hat, braiding a rope which will be woven into a door-mat (for my parents), and putting up and hemming curtains. I started the scarf a month ago, the hat last Christmas, and the rope sometime in June. I also have a needlepoint I've been working on since I was 17 which means it's been unfinished for at least 6 years. (I've finished several other needlepoints since I started this particular one). I try not to think about that one, it makes me feel ashamed. There was a quilt that took me about two years to do. They all become an albatross around my neck before I'm even halfway done.