For Clarification Purposes

I wrote a very long blog post and probably tried to hit way too many points and I’m sorry if I didn’t come across clearly enough. So I will reitterate a bit because I can. And this is not for the Trolls, just so you know.

No where in my post yesterday did I say that women should not work outside of the home. I don’t believe that. I think that as Melissa and Erin pointed out quite passionately that for some women it is not serve them well to be at home full-time and I completely agree.

I believe that women have the right to do whatever they desire–pursue their passions, pursue their dreams, and live their lives authentically. If that includes children and career–great! If it includes being at home raising kids–great! If it includes not having children at all–great! That was what I was trying to point out about feminism. Feminism gave us those choices.

I also stated that I believe that babies need their mothers–biologically. I do not believe that it is beneficial for a baby to have his mother leave him to go back to work three days after his birth by her own choice.

In this country we don’t value families. The Republicans can talk and talk and talk about Family Values but in this country we expect mothers who give birth to be back at work six weeks afterward and only provide three months of un-paid guarantee that they won’t lose their jobs if they take longer than the six weeks. We do not support parents when they go back to work and instead assume they will figure out how to find quality childcare that they can afford. We don’t give families with children basic healthcare–we assume they’ll figure it out–and if they can’t find a job that gives them healthcare–oh well, too bad for them.

We also do not give any parenting support or education or help with the basic needs of having a new baby. In France and other European countries parents are given a YEAR off when they have a baby–PAID. They also are given free healthcare and someone to come in to help with the baby. When parents do go back to work–their daycare costs are quality and reasonably priced–around $1.00 an hour. Having a healthy society begins with taking care of babies, children, and families. Our countries leaders could learn a lot from countries like France et. al.

Now we have a Vice-Presidential candidate who is role-modeling that women go back to work when their special-needs infant is three days old. And that is a good thing? Is that what we want women to start doing? Is that the example families should assimilate? That’s a Family Value?

I would like to be very clear–I don’t believe any PARENT of five children–one of whom an infant with special needs and one a pregnant teenager should be running for the highest office in the land. Man, Woman, Democrat, Republican–it matters not. I’m talking specifically here–Children first.

Hannah Montana is a teenager who is pursuing her own ambition–she doesn’t have five children.

Jon and Kate? Their exploiting their children–that’s a different blog post all together.

I don’t have a lifestyle–I have a life. My children have not actually had anyone be mean to them because I’m a lesbian and if they were I would explain it to them the way I explain everything to them–honestly. I can’t change being a lesbian any more than I can change the color of my skin.

And Limpy?

He was joking.

I’m-a-Sexist-Feminist-Lesbian-Mother

Okay. I will accept that for today with no problem. It’s possible that some of the fine people who read this blog may not like what I’m about to say so I will start out by saying this–It’s my opinion and I’m fully entitled to it and I wholeheartedly welcome intelligent debate. (Not mudslinging from people who have a Google Alert on the topic and troll to every blog to leave the same negative comment over and over again.)

As a girl growing up in the 70’s and 80’s, I was raised to be anything that I wanted to be. I could have it all, a husband, a family, a career. I could bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan. I was a 1980 Lady but a Pillsbury Girl, I could carry a briefcase and a diaper bag and fully take part in the American Dream. Many of us were raised this way and it was a great idea. In theory.

Before I had DD#1 I had a career that I was very good at. I worked hard and was noticed by “higher ups” in the corporation who wanted to groom me to do bigger and better things. I was quite capable of doing anything and I’m sure I would have been quite successful in any business venture I would have taken on. I had a baby and everything changed. I worked part time at the same company and during an annual review my Big Boss said to me, “You could really go places if you would cut those apron strings from your baby.”

I didn’t cut the strings. When I announced to Big Boss that I was expecting DD#2 he was so angry he actually left the office and closed the door.

I started to stay home with the girls when DD#2 was born. My XH and I didn’t know how we were going to make it financially but we agreed that it was the best thing for the girls and for our family. Not long after I found out I was expecting another baby and then our decision for me to stay at home was pretty much cemented. Taking care of three girls under the age of four was a big enough job for any one person to do.

At that time I was very involved with the MOMS Club, a support organization for stay-at-home mothers. I held a position where I gave information to potential new members and often found myself giving them counsel and validation about their often new role in life. One morning we had a new member at our meeting and she told us how disappointed her father was in her for deciding to stay home with her newborn infant. “I didn’t send you to college so that you could be a housewife,” he told her. When I became the President of the organization I would always open our meetings telling the women how important their jobs were and what important work that they were doing.

When our grandmothers were younger they didn’t have choices. They were unable to even open a bank account or own property on their own. Most women didn’t go to college, fewer went on to achieve a post-graduate degree and virtually all women were homemakers–not by choice necessarily–but because that is what they did.

Feminism paved the way for women to have choices. They could go to college, own property, have a career, marry or not, have children or not, and make decisions about their lives for themselves.

I am grateful to feminism for allowing this for women. I’m grateful to the women who came before me, fought for my rights, and opened up for me chances and opportunities never realized by the women of my grandmothers generations and before.

I am a feminist. I believe in equal opportunities, equal pay, and equal respect between men and women.

I also believe in biology.

Babies need their mothers. They know their mothers scent and voice. She is bonded to her baby through huge spills of hormones released in her body through the pregnancy, birthing and post-partum periods. When a woman breastfeeds a hormone is released that makes her feel high and content and in love with her baby. It’s the same hormone that is released between two people in love during the first three months of a relationship. Anyone who’s ever been madly in love with someone knows what that feels like. It’s a feeling of attachment and it is Mother Natures way of ensuring that a mother will take care of her infant. That bonding is not only nice for the baby–but is very possibly the foundation for what kind of person that baby will become.

I believe that if you choose to give birth to a baby it is your responsibility to BE there for your baby. Bringing a child into the world is the most important job that a parent has to do and certainly should be a parent’s first responsibility–without question.

I understand that there are people who for the sake of survival need to be away from their children–and I wish there was a way to ensure that no child had to ever be away from their parents because of financial need. But that’s another blog post.

I don’t make any decisions about my life without first considering how that decision will affect my children. Even my decision to get a divorce, my decision to live my life authentically–I considered all of it and I would have sacrificed my own happiness if I thought it would benefit my children. In the end I did do what was best for them because we are all happier now and the girls are very well adjusted. Could I have predicted that? Yes I could. Because I’m a mother who has been with her children and I know them better than anyone else.

HG and I would love to move into Portland. Into the city. Live urbanly and take advantage of all of the great things that living in the city would bring. Why don’t we? Because it’s not in the best interest of the girls at this time. I’m not going to move somewhere that would ultimately cause them a lot of distress simply because I would like it better. I’m not going to compromise their education and safety and ability to see their father easily because of my preference. I won’t put my kids through that at this time as it wouldn’t be good for them.

And this is why it amazes me that a woman, ANY woman would choose to put her children through public scrutiny, spotlight and potentially life altering circumstances to benefit her own career is beyond me.

Yes. I’m talking about Sarah Palin.

Sarah Palin who went back to work as the governor of Alaska THREE DAYS after giving birth to a disabled child.

Sarah Palin who has a pregnant teenage daughter and is purposely putting her in public eye and showing that young girl’s vulnerability and shame in front of the entire world.

Sarah Palin who is willing to move her family across the world to live in a completely different culture in order for her to work in a demanding position that could become even more demanding in a heartbeat.

What kind of mother does this? What kind of mother chooses her own ambition over her own children?

Sarah Palin chose to bring five children into the world–one of whom is a disabled infant. And then she chose her career over them. She’s not a just a working Mom–she’s running for the Vice-Presidency of the United States–and that is a different playing field and I don’t get how THAT is a family value.

Sexist? Perhaps. Except for the fact that if Sarah Palin were a man–I would feel exactly the same way. If Barack Obama had an infant with Downs Syndrome and a pregnant teenage daughter–I would not support him–nor his running mate if he were in that position.

Those five children have needs beyond average children and they don’t deserve what is being done to them right now.

It’s a crying shame and it breaks my heart.

I’m a feminist. But I also believe that we have a responsibilty to the children that we bring in to this world and Sarah Palin is not only failing her children but the future children of this country by the example she is setting.

My Mom is the Michael Phelps of Pie

Because of my Dad’s visit, I’ve been horribly neglecting my blogging life (for good reason.) I’ll try to catch up–my brain is bursting.

We went to the Pie-Off last Saturday.

I made a Key Lime Pie. Melissa Lion made a Pie, Witchtrivets made a Pie, My Mom made two pies.

Neither Melissa, Witchtrivets, nor I won a ribbon for our pies, but my Mom won THREE! She was sure that she wouldn’t win anything and lined up for pie; when they announced her name she was stunned. She was even more stunned when she won two more ribbons. Oh the talent I come from.

The Pie-Off was fantabulously fun even though the competition was fierce; 49 pies were entered, and that’s a lot of pie. I’m already scanning for pie recipes for next year. Look out Mom–those ribbons are MINE next time.

It was a tad weird being with both of my parents at the same time. This hasn’t happened for many years and that was at a funeral so it doesn’t really count. As you can see from that picture I posted, I don’t really look anything like either of my parents–a fact that I’ve always wondered about. Sometimes I have a little fantasy that I was stolen and sold on the black market and and switched at birth and that my real family is uber-wealthy and fabulous. For all of  these years they have been waiting to find me, all along keeping a large trust fund going for the day that we reunite. When we do, they will send their private jet to retrieve me and we will fly to the family’s “summer compound” in the South of France. There they will cry and tell me how sorry they were that I was raised in such a dysfunctional home and how they will make it all up to me one million dollars at a time.

Okay, maybe my family isn’t as dysfunctional as I once thought.

A lot of healing went on this past weekend. Healing for me, healing for my Dad, healing for my Mom and healing for my kids. HG stood by my side and lovingly took care of all of us all weekend being the gentle, smart, amazing woman that she is. She adores my Dad and he adores her and we all had a wonderful time getting to know each other. The girls were as receptive and engaging as could be expected and yesterday on DD#3’s first day of school she wanted her Pap to take her, which he did. DD#1 has already asked when Pap is coming back. I hope it will be soon, as does the rest of the family.

“There’s still time for a lot of good memories to be made,” said my Mom yesterday. And she is absolutely correct. Mom’s know stuff like that and I’m going to focus on that instead of my switched at birth fantasy instead.

And Pie. I’m focusing on pie.

My Family

My Dad left this morning. We had a wonderful, wonderful visit and I was happier than I can ever remember. It was so nice to share my family with my father and have him share himself with us.

I’m exhausted.

Welcoming it all

The smell of fall is in the air here in the Pacific Northwest. I’m not really ready to let summer go but fall is my favorite time of the year. More than January 1st, fall feels like the time to begin again–a new year–a new time of possibilities.

We’ve had a fun summer and I’m beginning to be ready to dive in to the world again. I’ve been cleaning things up in my office, my home, and in my head. Taking stock of what I have, what I need, and what to do next. It’s a little exhausting at times, but I know it will all pay off in the end.

I was having some apprehension about starting school again. HG and I decided that changing schools would be a good idea and I applied to the school I want to attend last spring but did not follow up on my admittance until just last week. I think I was having anxiety about it and figured if I put it off too long I could just take some online classes at the community college I attended last term. But I did decide to follow up and did send them the info they needed and did register for classes as a non-admitted student until everything is processed. Yesterday I filled out all of the financial aid info that I know they will need as soon as everything is processed, cleaned out all of my files, recycled an entire garbage can of paper, and got ready to mail two important items that will (yes, Universe WILL) bring me some money.

I’m making room for great things to come my way.

In a few hours I will pick up my father from the airport for his visit here with us. I don’t think that I realized just how anxious I am about this visit until I woke up this morning at 2:30 a.m. and couldn’t go back to sleep. Usually when something is coming up that I’m not sure about I just put it aside and deny it awhile. It works out for me actually because I think while I have it set aside in my denial I somehow process through it a little bit.

This visit brings up a lot of things for me. Obvious things like Why Now? Why Now, after all this time does my father want to come and visit? I’m glad he does and I’m very much looking forward to it but I still hear that voice in my head that says, “What’s wrong with me that he didn’t want to come before?”

Logically, I know it isn’t me (right?) but I still hear it.

I am a little resentfull of all the things that I’ve never been able to do with my father/never experienced with having a father.

• He never held one of my newborn babies.
• He’s never seen my children on Christmas morning.
• We haven’t had a holiday meal together for nearly two decades.
• I’ve never cooked dinner for him (or made him coffee, or mixed him a drink, or baked him a cake.)
• He’s never stepped foot in any of the four homes that I’ve owned.
• He’s never met my wife or any of the dear friends that I adore.
• He’s never fixed anything for me.

These things come up at a time like this but I am extremely grateful that we have a chance to maybe catch up on a few of them. I will certainly make him coffee, pour him a glass of wine and possibly make a cake. He will be a guest in my beautiful home. I will cook him dinner, and he will meet my wife and my friends.

And the other day when he called me to check in about the flight and the weather here and what-not, the last thing he said to me was, “And if you need anything fixed while I’m there, I’m very handy. I can do pretty much anything–electrical, plumbing, whatever you need.”

I laughed and said, “Well, as a matter of fact . . .”

Inside my heart jumped with happiness. My dad is going to come to my house and fix something for me! In a strange way just the thought of this is very healing.

I’ve been making room for good things to come my way.

And I’m welcoming it all.

All Alone

Our rotation of company has ceased for a few days.

The girls are at the coast with their father.

HG is taking the day off tomorrow.

I’ll be un-plugged Internet.

Be back on Wednesday.

Ciao.

My Wife’s Ex-Girlfriend is here

And that is all good. Here is what is interesting.

She’s a 12 Step’r.

She arrested Brittney Spears.

She had sex with HG for over three years.

Is that weird?

It is just a teeny tiny bit to me.

But maybe I’m weird?

McMinnville PRIDE!

HG and I will be heading out to McMinnville on Sunday to attend the town’s first ever Pride event.

McMinnville is a beautiful town–about 25 minutes from the Scary Suburbs and home of my friend Teresa DiFalco, world famous novelist and New York Times published writer. It is also home of the Hotel Oregon’s Rooftop Bar. HG and I like it there. A lot. It’s haunted you know.

It’s going to be beautiful tomorrow and all of the cool people will be there–Marty Davis will be there–HG and her ex-girlfriend and I will be there. You should be there too. You could join me for a beer, or better yet–BUY me a beer! I like Ruby. Or Purple Haze. Just not Coors lite or Budweiser–that will not do. But at least come and meet me and HG and her ex-girlfriend who is coming to visit tomorrow. We have rotating company here at Chez RSG. Nothing but fun my peeps. Fun in the Sun!

The Out-laws are Here

HG’s parents arrived safely. They left their quiet world of living by the beach in Mexico and entered the chaos that is our life. I’ve already subjected them to a soccer game, hours and hours of listening to the bickering of my children, a barbecue with my mother and neighbors where my mother drank too much wine (one and a half glasses) and noise. Massive amounts of noise. Dogs barking, children shrieking, video games, television, fireworks, jets, machine gun firing, bombs exploding. Just usual stuff around here.

Today the girls leave to go on vacation with their father, his parents and fiancee. Yes, my former husband has a fiancee. A very lovely woman who I like very much. Do I feel weird about it? Not at all. I hope that he is very happy and more than that I hope he will be very good to her. She’s good to my girls and that’s all that matters about that situation. I believe they’re getting married relatively soon–like next week–but I don’t know that for a fact. Should I send a gift? What would one send to one’s former husband and his new wife? Suggestions are welcome.

That is all right now Internet. I’m feeling a little needy. Love letters would be nice.

Speaking of Parents

HG has some and they’re arriving this evening for a visit. Of course that meant that I had to get off my butt and re-organize and re-decorate the entire house yesterday and today. I think I have just a few more kitchen cupboards to go and the pantry. The Pantry. It’s in serious disarray.

To prepare for the arrival of the Parents, Ginger and Abby went to the groomer.

Ginger was less than thrilled with the groomer and even less thrilled with me trying to take her picture with PhotoBooth. I’m a mean mom.

I’m so mean that I’m taking my children to Target right now to purchase School Supplies which is the same thing as me saying that I’m going to Target to drain what’s left of my bank account. I love Back to School time, just love it.

We’ve already visited Steve & Barry’s, Ross, Marshall’s, Staples, Old Navy and Ulta. Oh, the Ulta was for me and I had FUN in there. I’m too lazy to find a link so if you don’t know the store–look it up. Around here it can be found at that new shopping center in Tualatin. I could walk around there for a few hours and not get bored. It’s like Ikea but with make-up and hair products. I heart it so much I’m going to date it regularly.

I’m off. Say goodbye to my money!