newsJanuary 29, 2006 8:05 am

I’ll never forget the first time I saw you. It was a late, hot, summer afternoon in August. The children ran half naked in the backyard, squealing through the sprinkler. I was thinking, again, what I am going to make for dinner? And I thought, yeah, just look up some recipes. And somehow, as fate would have it, I stumbled onto your template. So young. Worldly. With the ability to take me to places I’d never dreamed I could go. I certainly wasn’t looking. I’m happily married. A mother to three. I saw no room in my life for another. Yet you were so alarmingly charming, and seductive. Others may have passed you by, but I saw the spark, and fell hard for you. So hard.

Look how we’ve matured! You’re no longer the plain vanilla blog you once were, teasing me with your confusing html. Laughing in my face when I couldn’t post a picture. I no longer wonder what on earth can I add to you. I stopped thinking the pretty buttons would make us better together. We just fit now, you and I. You’ve been my reason to get out of the bed each morning. You’ve shown me I’m not the only one who takes all her laundry to the cleaners instead of ironing it. You’ve made me comfortable in my ability to spend all my spare time with you, and still pull together a dinner in 7 minutes. You’ve introduced me to people around the world, and kept me current on all the news of Jessica and Nick, Britney and Kevin, Brangelina. Because of you, I’ve learned to make marble magnets, and use the USB cord on my digital camera. You’ve helped me become able to simultaneously determine which child really had the ball first, and type, with out missing a letter. You’ve listened when I gripe and gripe about not being able to commit to losing these damn last 10 pounds. You were there when my husband was working late. You’ve never judged me when it wasn’t 5:00 yet, and I came to you with a glass of wine.

But alas, I feel maybe we’ve gotten a bit too close. Maybe I’ve become too dependent on you. How can that be? you’ll say, I’m sure. I know. I know. It’s so painful to even consider. My head is spinning with confusion as I write this. Can I really walk away? Will you let me? Can’t you understand how unhealthy this relationship has become? As much as I love you, I must. get. out. For now, at least. Your comments…I run to you every time I hear your taunting, luring ding! Your praise of me…I’ve grown so accustomed to, that I need it more and more, I crave it. And it’s not just you, you know. All your friends…they seduce me, too. What are they saying? Are they more handsome than you? Do they offer me something you can’t? Have. they. linked. us. up. yet. I know, it’s so hurtful to admit. And your stat counter. Ooooh, the stat counter. I just go weak in the knees when you show it to me. My brain flies with quick calculations…is it possible that today’s hits were less than yesterday? Is there usually a slump on the weekends? Or, worse, could. it. just. be. us. And what if, just what if, we do something, anything, just one tiny thing, that someone would hate us for? It’s just too much to bear…

No. Don’t. Not a word. It will just make this worse. I have to have some space. I feel we crossed the boundaries of appropriateness. What will I do? What will I do. Well, I’ve given this some thought. I may take up walking some. Do more with the children. See that every one has clean underwear more often. Maybe get that nasty sticky spot off the kitchen floor. I know. It can’t compare to you, but these things I must do. And with you around, I just. can’t. do. it. We have a house to work on you know. The upstairs hall has had a paint can and brush in it for more than 4 months. And it’s still unpainted. The mold starting to creep up the caulking in my tub has started to make me sick. Don’t even ask about the shower curtain. How will I cope? I think I’ll open a Word file. No. Stop. Don’t be caddy. He won’t compare to you, but he’ll give me what I really need. The space to just write. And not worry about the fall out. I know. Word won’t give me what you can. The praise. The affirmation. The love. But I have this crazy idea that maybe my husband could do that. He’s offered, you know. Don’t laugh. It’s cruel. I need your support in this. And the children. Well, they’ve missed me. They need me. Jake really needs to work on his math, and Kat her reading, and Blue? Well Blue just needs help in everything, especially not chewing up the sleeves of his shirts.

I know it must feel I merely used you. That I’ve used you when I needed you, and now am leaving you, hanging. Alone. But this is just the way it must be. For now. I’ve really loved you, you know. You’ve meant the world to me. Really, you shouldn’t have, but you have. I’m so sorry it has to be this way. Maybe, just maybe, down the road we can get together again. I’d like that, I think. Please forgive me.

Until another day, my sweet, until another day…
allison

in my opinionJanuary 27, 2006 11:23 pm

Sorry for anything said that went down the wrong way for anyone. No harm intended.

in my opinion 6:00 pm

Ding Ding Ding! Spain’s reigning Queen has come back with a serious left hook (ha, I made a pun there). And although we seem to have an empty stadium, I’m going to try to worm in around the points, as they happen, as it’s getting hard to do it the other way, dissertation for dissertation. Here goes:

Queen: Um. I think you just proved my point. “A good family life, of any kind, always benefits a child. Even if it’s not the one I’d pick (the family life, not the child, I’d pick those babies in a minute). Real love and affection, and security from a family that may not fit my ideal traditional preference, wins over a lousy, kid beating, impoverished, 2 parents of opposite sex and married but screaming at eachother all the time family any day.”

Me: OK, agreeing that some things (like the welfare of children) are more important than standing on principle doesn’t mean I’ve come over. And I’m doing my damndest not to prove your points, so ouch. No. Any where we can agree is good with me. I like finding the points of agreement, with anyone. Even you. Really, I type in jest here.

Queen: Thats what I’m trying to say. So if good family life, of any kind…wins…why the gripe about “…then comes marriage, then comes (fill in the blank) with a baby carriage? I’m surely going to ruffle many colorful feathers here, but I really wonder. When did we begin not only to accept, but celebrate, even envy, women and couples, who have children before they even talk walking down the aisle?”

Me: Because it was a good title, that flowed well into my little rant. Or in my world, it did. And it does cause me some concern that we, as a culture, are all so titillated by celebrity, that we don’t care a whit about what they may or may not be doing, as long as we can see pictures of it. As we mentioned before, that kind of obsession in itself is disturbing. Blend that with good cause for a rockin’ religious conservative freak out, and wow. You’ve got a humdinger there. I’m not sure that’s how you spell humdinger. But I will stand by my statement that this course we, as a culture, seem to be going down troubles me. Clearly, it is of no negative consequence to you, and I accept that. Again, I concede to agree to disagree. Respectfully. There is nothing that is going to go on here in blogland that will sway you, or me, from our convictions here. I just really don’t want to start dinner, so I’m still going.

Queen: I think your first paragraph answers your initial question. When did we begin to celebrate it? When women took it upon themselves to be nontraditional and take care of kids with our without a man. When they either had their own or took others in. When it became all about love, and not all about love as defined by a traditional conservative. Just all about love. That’s it. That’s all. You can’t try and define love. You can’t define it as only within a marriage between a man and a woman. You can’t try and define it as only with a walk down the aisle. [I will insert here, for ease of conversation flow, that I did not, nor do not, define love. Or what marriage is. What I will say here, and what will no doubt piss some people off, is that I believe God did. I know, I know, this opens a ginormous can of worms, but that is my belief. But what started this whole little debate was my beliefs. Which anyone who likes to can totally disagree with. That doesn’t threaten what I feel to be true, or make me not like them. Of course, by now, the converse may not be. By merely stating that little bomb above, I may have plenty of people (like all 3 who reads this) decide I am not like-worthy.] That’s the problem here. You started this entire discussion asking the question when we began to accept and celebrate anything other than the traditional way. We began to accept and celebrate when we (me, anyway) realized it was about love. Not your love. Not my love. But (insert person here’s) love. You can’t contain it. You can’t define it to only fit your head’s idea.

Me: I think we all end up defining it to fit into our head’s ideas. In some way, shape or form. Some just have broader definitions, and others narrower. Oops. I used the word narrow in relation to myself. Does that count as right-hooking my own chin? Yikes. Anyway. Maybe none of us should do said defining of love, but we’re human, and somehow do. If we didn’t, none of these sorts of conversations would even occur.

Queen: As for the idea that most of us Non Christians find the judgemental Christians coming off as
“we’re better”–it’s not all in my head. You said it was a very subtle difference. And when you start trying to legislate or make me think anyone but the traditional mom and dad family is “not right” it goes from subtle to pushy.

Me: 1. Are you saying that I did, in fact, move from subtle to pushy? Or are you speaking in generalized terms concerning many Christians you know, or have come in contact with. 2. Either way, and I do hope it’s the latter, and you are dead on. It is not all in your head. I hope I didn’t convey that at some point. I see it too. All the time. And it pisses me off. Christians amongst themselves go at it all the time. A waste of energy. Why can’t we just go with the things we do agree on? Any of us? Haven’t you heard the joke about Christians being the only army that kills its own wounded? Anyway. I can rant all I want. You can rant all you want. But at the end of the day, I’m trying to talk about issues that bother me, not specific people. I named names in this case (the celebrities) because it just so happened it was their pictures associated with the issue at hand. And I don’t know them. And I’m not going to hurt them in my tiny corner of cyber-space (although, maybe it doesn’t matter - maybe I should never name names). You do this too, I think, have a little rant now and then, and not get specific. Except for that woman knitting in her car. I’m pretty sure that was specific. And your finger was specific.

Queen: Did I mention I’m married. To a man. With two kids? I’m not unlike you my dear. Not at all. And I think you need to remember that neither is the nontraditional family.

Me: Oh yeah. I knew that. I’ve been over to your site quite a bit. I like it. The Kaiser? Your son? Pumpkin? Yep. Pretty square. Just like us. Or real close. My hubby and I don’t share the Playboy thing. Remember? We’re prudes. Christians are renown for being sexually oppressed. I’m sure they’re are tons of jokes I could recall, but I can’t right now.

Queen: You need to get to know some of us. We do laundry, carpool to school, and sign permission slips. We pack lunches and change diapers and care and love just the same. Our lives are just as boring and just as domestic. I think thats where the real confusion may be. That it can’t possibly be true that these families are much more like yours than they are different.

Me: Alright. This is sounding like yall are somewhere on some other planet, and we are off on our little judgemental piece of space, and never the twain shall meet (what is a twain?), because we won’t open up long enough to get to know you. I just don’t see it that way. Really. I already see us all in the big ol’ mess of raising children and having families and doing the laundry, and signing the slips, and picking up the dog poop, together. I didn’t think I needed to stop and make an effort to get to know you, or others like you, because at least around here, we already find ourselves friends with all sorts of families, some even seemingly crazy liberal like yours (I’m still grinning here). I wasn’t aware of being really out to lunch on the differences any of us may have. And the more people you know, obviously, the more differences we’ll have. Just because I expressed a cultural concern doesn’t mean I hole up, thinking the the entire earth is going to revolve around my little perspective, and when it doesn’t, I ain’t going out there. And then God forbid I talk with anyone who would ever hold an opinion different that mine. I think I said earlier, in an email, that it is good, to me, to get to know all sorts of people from all walks of life, even *gasp* liberal ones. I really love R2Ks, and she puts liberal right there at the top of her blog! But worse, really, she won’t ever eat a cheeseburger with me. It’s sad, really. But this stuff stretches me. Grows me a bit. Confirms some things, and changes others. I was just expressing an opinion in the same way any of us do. I didn’t understand, or I didn’t agree with something, so I said it.

I didn’t just come right out and say “all those who partake of this way of life and don’t align with me in entirity are just wrong, dead wrong”. I said certain things make me gag. Or mad. Or I’m fed up. But I didn’t point a finger and just say “you are wrong”. I was trying, again, to express my opinion. And in spite of something you’ve had to say before, that “its like religion or politics. Either you tolerate and listen to the other side’s reasons, or you act like an ass and try and convert everyone to your ways. Admittedly I think all cry-it-out parents are wrong. But it works for them. So who am I to tell them not too? I also think Christians, Jews, Hindus, Muslims, etc. are wrong…but so long as they are happy and not hurting me, live and let live baby. (Republicans suck too, by the way)”, and that I have done the crying it out, and am Christian, and even *forgive me* voted Republican before, if I could get to blogher, I’d love to meet you, and many others face to face, go have a drink, and lots of guffaws. No political/cultural/religious quizzes involved. Because I don’t think I act like an ass and try to convert any one else. Just don’t make me say that F word. You can say it. I am just too much my Momma’s girl to do it.

This probably concludes our little isolated cyber-space bounce around the ring. I think it’s safe to say that all opinions are personal, and not meaning to be foisted upon another. I can avoid dinner no longer. Any input is still welcome, unless it’s ugly to me or the Queen. You can say it, but as she says, say it nicely. Good evening and good weekend.

in my opinion 2:58 pm

It may just be you and me, Queenie, duking it out here, but here I come again. You say:

Whew. I’m glad I came back to check how this discussion was going! Ok, first of all I was up late…but am also out here on the West Coast…so it wasn’t as late as it may seem. No late night partying going on over here in Los Angeles (hard to believe, I know) just a teething baby and colds all around. Nothing like sitting at the computer, nursing and blogging until midnight.

You make great points. And I think we actually agree on a lot of these issues despite our religious differences. Man should be accountable. Man should honor a commitment. Man should set good examples. I guess my issue with the entire post is the assumption that I’m making here. And that just might be me…but the idea that the world is going to h-e-double hockey sticks because of what we *think* is going on with some random hollywood couples. Or because someone chooses to not have a traditional family. I say, and here is where I think we’ll disagree, that we’re actually a stronger society for this. Huh? You say to yourself. The decline of so called christian morals in america making us stronger? How so?

Well, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say these nontraditional families are every bit as loving, caring and stable as the chrisian traditional family. I think they challange what you see as acceptable. I think they force you to think outside what you know to be true. I think they are every bit as valid and upstanding as a traditional marriage and family. Just because it isn’t what you are used too. Or what you think is good and right…doesn’t mean its bad. Think about that. And I know there is no offense meant and none is taken. But when you just *assume* mom and dad are “ideal” you assume anything but is “bad.”
I have no problem with people rather seeing a traditional family…but I do have a problem when those people assume the alternative is somehow no good. You assume that your traditional family is better. Superior. And there in lies the problem. We can all agree that not everyone raises their kids the same…we can all agree that not every family is the same. Its the assumption that somehow because your idea is “divine” or “faith” based, that its “better” than those who are not.

Now, I have no idea what these people are really like…but let’s just take Brad and Angelia for example. Have you taken any african babies into your home lately? Gone and done any real charity work in thrid world countries? Seems like Angelina is being rather “jesus” like to me. But those things seem to get discounted when we hear she isn’t married. I guess her good work and love for those kids is invalid because she did it (to start anyway) without a man. How silly! And now that she has a man…its the wrong one. Because he was married. But we don’t know what went on there. For all we know, Jennifer wouldn’t have babies and was a raging alcoholic who beat Brad. We have no clue. Just the same as we don’t know if Brad is just a dog. And while I hope that man can overcome his primal urges, and will always expect him too. I can’t say I’m shocked when he doesn’t.

This is fun. I love discussions like this.

And I’m back:

We have 7 african babies, and just got back from a 6 month stay in a third world country. I just don’t talk about the black skinned babies, because, as you know, we conservatives are really huge biggots. And the stay in the 3rd world country was at their poshest republican funded resort. I was there with the Bush’s. We were talking about how great the world would be if we could send all the liberals to Iraq. I really am kidding here. We were just talking about my cheese grits recipe. Seems Laura’s a fan. I’m going to take your above comment, and do like last time…

So…where to start. Oh, first, of course I make great points. I’m brilliant and always right. That has everything to do with my being Christian. Didn’t you see that in the handbook of any church you may have ever visited? We’re always right? We know everything because God tells us directly? He has our Cingular plan. Anyway. I don’t think I’ll go over to your extrememely dark side (grinning here) and say it makes us stronger. But certainly diversity does. Whhhaaaa? Did I just contradict myself. Maybe, but what I mean is the kind of diversity that I feel could be harmful, not helpful. But that, again, is just me coming from my religious cult background (grinning again). Next month, the mother ship is landing. If you want to go with us, you have to be in Cowpens, SC at 1:37 am on the 28 of February. Leap year, duh.

However, there is no way around the fact that I feel, as do some other freaks out there, that certain aspects of diversity aren’t all good. I get it that these are things you think are. Point taken. (hey, I just got a “great post” comment on my first of this illustrious series…nanny nanny boo boo…another conservative geek) We can agree to disagree. But I will never say that this means they somehow cannot be as loving and caring as I, in all my perfection of superior family James Dobson values, am. (more grinning) That would be just arrogant on my part, and we know I’d never be that way. On the point of seeing others doing it another way, I won’t say I see it as bad. But I’d be lying if I said I saw it as just as good. And yep. This can get me in trouble here. But I promise I’m saying it with as much humility as possible. I’m not on my soap box, just sharing my ever enlightened heart (still grinning).

As far as the faith issues go. Here it can get even more tricky. I’m sure you understand that if you really believe in something. Really truly have it at your core of being, then you can’t just divorce yourself from it to see something “another way”. But you can treat any situation you may feel you wouldn’t choose with love and respect. We may teach our children what we feel to be true, but we never ever equate that with we’re better than. It’s a subtle difference, but one we try to achieve, and one we feel is sorely lacking in many people of all sorts of faiths and beliefs. You mentioned Jesus. He was never, is never, about condemning people. He loved/loves people. He may have, and did, state what he knew (now I’m speaking from my understanding of his teachings, and knowing you may not buy this) to be good and right for us, and ask for change of a life style (like the prostitute at the well), but he was the first to sup with the outcasts of that society. Befriend all. Help all. Now I’m calling you an outcast. No. I’m not. I’m just talking about that biblical situation. And one more point, to try to clarify/understand each other. When anyone holds anything to be true, to their inner most being, in this case, our faith, it is very difficult, if not impossible to think everything else is equally true. If it were, we wouldn’t care so strongly about what we live. I’m sure like the points of life you want to instill in your children, like run fast whenever they encounter someone like me. ; )

And yep, absolutely. Angelina is being pretty darned “Jesus”. No doubt about it. And I, personally, do not throw the baby out with bath water, even if she poops in it. That is good. And good is good. If I had any help I wanted with my current children, the cash to travel freely, and someone to cook and clean my toilets (not cook the toilets, cook meals) while I built a hospital in Zimbabwee, I’d better darn well use it wisely and get to stacking bricks. I give her props for that. And especially for taking poor Bradly in if he’s been beaten by a raging alcoholic hubby beater. Poor Brad. And despite all my ranting, I sincerely hope for a wonderful family life for all of them, and any children they may have in the future. A good family life, of any kind, always benefits a child. Even if it’s not the one I’d pick (the family life, not the child, I’d pick those babies in a minute). Real love and affection, and security from a family that may not fit my ideal traditional preference, wins over a lousy, kid beating, impoverished, 2 parents of opposite sex and married but screaming at eachother all the time family any day.

Top that, Miz Queen Thing.

in my opinion 10:59 am

The Queen of Spain stopped by sometime, looks like early this morning (what were you doing up so late? Trouble sleeping? I was up at 4 myself) and had some very interesting points on my previous post. I started to just leave a comment back to her, in an effort to elaborate, but instead, found myself writing another post. I hope, Ms. Queen, it is OK with you that I copy your comment here, and go on with this vein this morning. Looks like we may hold (respectfully, of course) some different ideas on this part of our culture, and inviting others into the fray may get my traffic boosted prove educational.

The Queen wrote:

I think everyone wants love.
I think everyone would agree that commitments should be honored.
But I have to ask…how much do you really know about any of these people? What you see on Oprah? Or at the checkout counter? We don’t know the real stories, or the real lives of ANYone of the couples you mentioned. It may have looked like husband stealing. But do we really know what went on? I think what is worse than a society that appears to not honor it’s commitments, is a society that looks up to and is interested in a very small group of people in a fictional place called “Hollywood.”
I’ve interviewed and personally met many of these people. And I can promise you, nothing is what you think it is.

I also think children can thrive in a one parent household. I, myself, would have happily adopted or otherwise had I never married. I also think you have to account for the fact that man is an animal. And some of those animals are just not meant to be managomous. Sex drives. Procreation drives. And while some of us seem to have crawled out of the sludge, there will always be a part of our population that can’t seem to rid themselves of their primal instincts. I don’t think those celebrities are asking if you approve. Nor do you have any real idea what led them to the place they are at. By suggesting that they are examples…simply for staring in films, or recording a song…is absurd.
…great post. Lots to think about here.

and I began to reply:

Hey Ms. Queen! Primarily, I am discouraged by this apparent worship of the “famous and beautiful”. People are going to do their own thing, and we’re not always going to agree with it. But this culture is obsessed with the gory details of these people. I find it sad. And you are right, we (or at least I) do not know the real inside scoop. Except they were all at my house the other week and told me. No. Not really. I am sure they don’t care if I approve at all. They’d find me quite pedestrian, and absurdly conventional. Fine with me. And they most likely didn’t ever think their daily poops would end up in the grocery check out mag rack when they started their careers. However. I feel that no matter how public or non-public a life is, we owe each other as much as we can muster. Which seemingly for some of us, may not be much. We don’t operate in a vacuum. Each choice of each person on this planet, in my humble and often ill-informed opinion, causes a ripple effect that reaches out for miles and miles. Right down to one of my children, or yours, one day. And when they read that stuff in the grocery check out, right there at eye level for them to see, it adds to who they are and who they may become, if ever so slightly. No matter whay I say, or how I explain, they’ve seen that so-n-so just cheated on so-n-so with 2 guys at some bar in NY, complete with mostly naked picture, and now spouse is yelling divorce, or going cheat, too, or did, or whatever. Is all this true? Probably not, or at least not entirely. But as you stated, our worship of this tiny, fictional corner of society puts it all out there for all to see, and for children, to ingest. I’m sure it’s a 2 way street. They live publicly. The public craves the details on Britney’s latest antics at a bar with her newborn. Poof. Front page rumors. On something that if you or I ever did, we couldn’t pay someone to care about. Or could we? Now that’s idea for some extra cash…

And on the state of man in general. I respect your opinion here. I disagree with the assumption that some of man just can’t keep it in their pants (or keep their skirts down), because we are man. But I understand what you state. For me, and this most assuredly has much to do with my faith (Which I understand you not to share? Again, respected differences.), all of man has the ability to be better, to distance themselves from the rest of the animal kingdom. Clearly some don’t choose to, but they could. I agree when you say some just won’t pass primal. What gives us the possibility of soaring higher than my dog is the ability to say no to the primal. According to my beliefs, man is created to be able to rise above these urges. So I expect more. I want more. I can’t ask it of those who don’t adopt my faith, as they cannot be held accountable to a standard they don’t buy. But I don’t have to like what appears to be evidence of how they live. And Lord knows, I hope it’s not as bad as it often seems. Public persona or not. I could have the same gripe with my neighbor. They wouldn’t care, but I could have the gripe. And you are right. It certainly seems some of us just threw a slimy leg over the edge of land, and the behavior corresponds.

For me, adoption or insemination without being married wouldn’t have been an option. So clearly, I tie “family” up in a big traditional, preacher/rabbi blessed bow. But again, I know this is my take on things, and not everyone’s. And not yours, as you state. I only mention it here to further explain my perspective when I begin to contemplate the consequences of some of what seems to be happening in the world. I fully understand that my choices can’t be, would never be, those of each and every other soul on our planet, but I want to see traditional families. In my faith, (again, it’s mine, not yours or everyone else’s, so I’m not forcing it down unwilling throats, just talking from my bank of feelings), a mom and a dad are ideal. What a child needs. Can a family thrive without this ideal? I certainly think so. And know, like you do, many who do. But from this personal perspective, I will naturally feel a sadness, a disappointment, when I observe this ideal, my ideal, my opinion of God’s ideal (and I’m saying it clearly here, it’s my opinion of God’s ideal), not being able to be met. And I’m hoping and praying that our children are able to live, want to live, this ideal.

Alright, now I’ve gone on to rambling and making sure I cover the bases of not offending anyone ever with my opinions. Enough. Clearly I come from a pretty conventional, Christian perspective. Clearly, we all don’t. And I hope clearly, it is not being conveyed that I think less of anyone that doesn’t line up with me head to toe. So I’ll stop trying to make sure any one who ever stops by here could never ever be offended by my opinions. I think that corresponds with the silly little quote of the day at the top of this page. I don’t know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody (Bill Cosby). We just have to be true to who we are, who we’re called to be, and conduct that life with respect to others, no matter the differences. No need to apologize for that, but boy, I sure do try sometimes.

house and home, rants and ravesJanuary 26, 2006 8:10 pm

…then comes marriage, then comes (fill in the blank) with a baby carriage? I’m surely going to ruffle many colorful feathers here, but I really wonder. When did we begin not only to accept, but celebrate, even envy, women and couples, who have children before they even talk walking down the aisle?

Some people are going to be really ticked off. I know there are those of you out there with different stories. Not so traditional. Not so easy. And these are circumstances I would never even pretend to understand, or judge. But what I am talking about, gritching about, is a society that has nearly fully, NO. Fully decided that it is just great to promote and flaunt men and women who get pregnant, and then maybe, talk about what they want to do about it. Or try, like the rumors surrounding the obnoxious Angelina Jolie, to get fertility help, on the heels of, and maybe even before, a divorce is even final. Do we have no respect for ourselves? What do we want for our children? Really? Even if we must deal with some unconventional circumstances, is this what we desire, dream of, for our own?

You have your story. I have mine. And they don’t always look the same. I’m all for diversity. And some people truly believe there is no merit in a piece of paper only. There is Sting and Trudy. Who after quite some time and several children, finally did go for the piece of paper. But have apparently, and yes, this is subjective, been faithful to eachother and thier children for years and years. And it is important to understand that I am not condemning all women out there who either met her husband at the altar in a maternity gown, or brought their mutual child to the reception. I know all about casting the first stone, and judging ye not. But there is nothing un-Godly about questioning certain societal trends. Trends meaning the things that are coming in vogue. That we aspire to, or admire. Or think is sooo cool. And we are knee deep in a trend that says if you got the hots for each other, by all means, go for it. Bring a baby into your 2nd, 3rd or 4th relationship. Doesn’t matter if the ink is dry on the papers. Or if you’ve even notified a current spouse. This time it’ll take. This time, your loins are screaming the truth. Just ask the children of your previous marriages/affairs.

Angelina Jolie. Gag. Sorry, but hearing news bits about her “wonderful news”, with the ever devoted (right Jennifer A?) Brad Pitt just turns my stomach. The ever beloved TomKat. More gag. Apparently, they found each other, went out a few times, got pregnant, she considers his “religion” (just personally, I’m not into any religion that denounces the potential pharmaceutical needs of a post-partum woman), and they start planning a wedding. And all the world is enthralled. Isn’t it romantic that he proposed at the Eiffel Tower? Isn’t he brilliant for going at it with Matt Louer, vehemently espousing that medical intervention is unintelligent? Misguided? Just plain wrong? Remember the beautiful Catherine Zeta Jones? Her husband, the dashing Michael Douglas? If I remember correctly, she was proudly displaying her bulging belly before the papers had even been completed on Mr. Douglas’ divorce with his previous wife. The one that saw him through all his years of trying to make it in the business, and raised his other children at the same time. The toothy Julia? She wore t-shirts berating Danny Moder’s at-the-time current wife, to get her out of the way. And we were all soooo happy when their love was finally made official on her ranch out west somewhere. Aaahhhh, true love. Wasn’t it true love when she went barefoot to the wedding with Lyle Lovett?

I am not saying mistakes can’t be made. Or rather, lessons learned. I know many of us go through heartache before we find our true one. That the things we think could kill us, that we dread the most, are so often the things that make us, for the better, who we are. Or that we find our ideal situation may just turn out to be without the one we thought we’d share the rest of our years and raise a child with. It happens. And maybe, our baby is on the way before we exchange gold bands. These circumstances can still result in a wonderful life.

But if this is the case, if these are the trials through which we lived, is it really our dream for our daughters to experience the same? Do we want her to find herself pregnant, and wonder if the father will really stick around? Do we want her to win a man from his wife? And if so, what’s to give her the confidence that this time will be it. I’ve always wondered, if I am once the other woman, what will prevent another from taking my place one day? I’m thinking that the track record there may not instill so much peace in my heart. Do we want our children to have to wonder if the one they love will really be there? I’ve certainly survived, and even thrived, through some stuff. Yet, I would not wish it upon my children. I get really ticked at the constant barage of media out there, telling my children, telling your children, that certain things are not only OK, but normal, and even desirable. Some things just are not. And if you consider yourself more open, more liberal, more accepting than you think I am sounding in this little rant, just picture your child in one of the situations of which I speak. Your little girl. Or your son. When I personalize it, it makes a difference in my so-called philosophies. Does it for you?

I’m just fed up with the glamorous shots of couples touching bellies, and shopping in $150 per outfit baby shops. When they haven’t even, for all apparent purposes, begun to plan a life together. Commit. Say they’ll stick it out, for better or worse. I’m not concerned with the state’s approval and silly certificate. I’m concerned about a heart issue. Again, I’m not condemning or judging all the men and women who find themselves in circumstances they may not have exactly expected. And then they go and do the best they can. I’m just tired of the glamorization of babies and families through people who’s idea of long term is a movie contract. From the people who started that remember the children a few years ago, telling us, the rest of the country, as if we didn’t know, that some really important years of a child’s life are the first three. Or some such nonsense, but who’s heads were people like Bruce and Demi, who’d long since divorced. Do you have to? I’m not in your relationship, so I cannot cast opinion. But in these celebrity cases? Don’t even get me started. Bed to bed, relationship to relationship, family to family, and then a re-made family upon re-made family. Call me square. Call me old fashioned. Tell me I’m judgemental and closed off. Religious freak. I’m not sure I care. I don’t think you have to hold to one certain religion or denomination to understand what I’m saying. One of our dearest friends and I were just bemoaning the loss of the family on the phone the other day. The loss of values, and hope of relationship within the family. And she is Orthodox Jew. And I am Charismatic Christian (on a good day). I think we all know, deep in our heart of hearts, that there are certain circumstances more conducive for children and families than others. And that our lovely members of society in their la-la land out in L.A. may not have a clue as to what that is. But they seem to be dictating to the rest of us what it is.

So. You don’t really believe in marriage, as a traditional institution. You don’t need any government, any religion, to tell you who you can love, and live with. Although I lead a pretty conventional life, I understand some of this. I love my husband, and we belong together. With our children. No matter who has or who has not signed off on some fragment of a form. What I wish, what I pray for, is a honoring of what it really is to be a family. And some universal understanding that it just may not be what we see in Hollywood on a regular basis. This may never happen, but I can hope. And I can still just go about saying gag about the Angelinas, and the Britney’s and Kevins, who can’t hold it together even a year after the baby comes, and all the others who are so privileged, but can’t really appreciate what they have. And think the rest of us are pedestrian, at best.

As quoted in the article by Ben Stein, one post prior to this, the heroes of our age are not the flashy ones. They are the ones who dig in and do the work that must be done. That we cannot survive without. And that especially means raising our children, for the next generation. It is no light task. And the perks suck. But it does mean everything. And the example we are being given by a large percentage of our culture, especially the wealthy and famous culture, is just wrong. Send me all the hate mail you want. But it is. Lord, help us.

news 3:59 pm

Forwarded to me by my Dad, an article worth taking a few minutes to read.

For many years Ben Stein has written a biweekly column called “Monday Night At Morton’s.” (In case you don’t know, Morton’s is a famous chain of Steakhouses known to be frequented by movie stars and famous people from around the globe.) Now, Ben is terminating the column to move on to other things in his life. Reading his final column is worth a few minutes of your time.

Ben Stein’s Last Column…
============================================
How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury Be a Star in Today’s World?

As I begin to write this, I “slug” it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is “eonlineFINAL,” and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end.

It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world’s change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton’s, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton’s is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again.

Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to.

How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today’s world, if by a “star” we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails.

They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world.

A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him.

A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad.

The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists.

We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die.

I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton’s is a big subject.

There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament…the policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards.

Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero.

I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin…or Martin Mull or Fred Willard–or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them.

But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister’s help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms.

This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human.

Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will.
By Ben Stein

memes 9:19 am
Almost Thirteen Places We’ve Lived

1. Dallas, TX a 525 sq. foot apartment off the North Dallas Tollway, at Franklin Rd. 1992-1995

2. Smyrna, GA my folks home while we looked for a place of our own, December to February, 1995

3. Smyrna, GA our own rental, 1940s bungalow about 2 miles from where I had gone to highschool. First 2 babies born there, 1995-1998

4. Nashville, TN a 1920s rental near downtown, spring 1998-spring 1999

5. Nashville, TN our own home, first buy, 1920 Arts and Crafts stone bungalow in a neighborhood called Sylvan Park, one mile from our rental, May 1999-January 2000

6. Decatur, GA a rental on N. Decatur Rd., where we discovered our 3rd baby was on the way, January 2000-March 2000

7. Pine Lake, GA our own home where our 3rd was born, March 2000-December 2000. The one we still owe on.

8. Franklin, TN a small rental a couple of miles from downtown, December 2000-January 2003

9. Spring Hill, TN a larger rental about 15 miles from downtown Franklin, January 2003-October 2003

10. Greenville, SC a tiny rental, about 1100 sq. feet for all 5 of us, downtown, October 2003-October 2004

11. Greenville, SC our own home, about 6 miles from the rental. A 1950s 2 story traditional, currently in the middle of a kitchen remodel, mudroom addition, fireplace and built-ins overhaul, and hopefully screen porch add-on. And, it’s the first home we’ve owned, and lived in for an entire year.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will try to link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

newsJanuary 25, 2006 1:27 pm

and maybe to the one that is over 5′5″, too. If I am in the bathroom, for what may seem to you, an extraodinarily inordinate amount of time, and you don’t hear anything, and I don’t call for help, and especially if I take the laptop in there, yes. I. am. fine. Great actually. Very happy and content. Which is disturbed in incremental proportion to the amount of times I am asked through the door, when are you coming out?, or are you OK in there? Also in incremental proportion to the amount of these plaintiff inquiries is the steady increase of time that will be spent in there. Go. away.

memes, drink and food 12:47 pm

Get it? What Sup? Like Wassup? It’s What’s For Dinner Wenesday? Too smart, eh? Why did I say ‘eh’, I’m not Canadian. On to the point. I’m way off track here.

I’m wishing for, but not cooking, my Mamma’s Famous Cheese Grits. OK Yanks, they are superb. Really. You’ve never had grits until you have some smothered with butter and Velveeta, and baked til golden brown. I’m telling yall. Yum.

So, since they are made as described above, they are not on a plan for losing a few pounds. But if one should choose to try them, write and let me live vicariously. They are great with ham biscuits (sorry veggies), or anything breakfast-y. Also, we had them with grilled salmon and salad one night. Tres yum.


Mamma’s Famous Cheese Grits

6 C. boiling water and
1.5 C. grits, stone ground or Quaker Quick
bring these to a slow boil, stirring so they don’ t stick, and when they thicken, add
1.5 sticks of butter or margarine
1 pound Velveeta cheese, or other processed cheese food
and allow to cool a bit, then
fold in 3 beaten eggs with
1 t. salt, 3 t. Season Salt and several drops of tobasco, to taste.

To finish off, bake in a buttered 9x13 casserole, at 350 for 1 hour, or till golden and bubbly.
Trust me. To die for.

In other news, Speedreader is mad at me, and we’re locking horns. Aaaah. To be 10. Not tres fun.