A Veeeeery Peeenteresting Weeeeek

It's been kind of a big week around here and I have a bunch of posts I meant to write but, you know, life gets in the way of living sometimes and before I know it, it's Saturday at 3:28 pm and all I've managed to do is drop my kids off at their dad's for the night, fuck the shit out of some lemon cookies I found on Pinterest, and blow dry my cute new hair. 

Date night with my main man

Except that I did also get my son to wash his armpits and his ballsack today, so I suppose I should list that in my accomplishments for the day. I've never actually told either child, specifically, to wash their armpits and ballsacks before, and now I'm kind of worried that maybe neither of them *ever* have. I just really assumed that if you had a ballsack, it was something you'd just kind of automatically tend to, lest it find the chance to wind up in someone else's mouth. 

Which can happen, you know. 

It's important for me to keep an open mind about the issues of the day, and have friends who see this from various perspectives, because sometimes I act like a complete and total hypocrital leftwing whackjob douchebag on twitter and only my libertarian tea party throwin' incredibly disillusioned smart friends are going to call me out on it. 

I imagine Donald Trump must feel exactly this same way about Stephen Colbert. 

You just never know when opportunity will strike. WASH YOUR BALLSACKS, YOUNG MEN. Please don't make your parent ask you too. It will kill her/him inside. 

And I really do think it's kind of important that we start saying very loudly that the norm doesn't have to be "mother", necessarily, and it doesn't have to be "father" either. Why? Read this post by my fellow mom dad parent blogger Vikki of Up Popped A Fox. Read it, and think about every kid in in this country right now who's got a big ol' political campaign aimed at one of their parent's heads. Raising these kids to be adjusted, happy, secure, confident, and successful is the most important thing we can do. The rest is details

Speaking of, we went to Tucson for my son's state qualifier in marching band last week, and while they didn't qualify for state, they did increase their rankings an entire level -which is kind of remarkable in just a few short months playing heavy brass instruments in polyester Luigi suits for hours on end under the blazing Arizona sun together. 

And if you want to read exactly my thoughts on why I think it's totally fine that those kids walked away from a ball-busting season completed empty-handed aside from some massive self-improvement in the face of BRASS and DESERT SUN and POLYESTER, go read Jim's post on Busy Dad Blog about not winning. He said it a thousand times better than I ever could have. 

After the tournament, we went to visit Josh's cousin Chelsea and her wife Molly. Last time we saw them, 3of3 was still a speed bump on my torso, and they didn't have any children of their own yet. Now they have two completely ridiculously adorable children who I totally did not snap one picture of because apparently I forgot I was a blogger. What was interesting to me is that, while my sons of course know that Chelsea and Molly are both chicks, my daughter hasn't ever met them, and we certainly don't make a point of disclaimering everyone we speak of (they're both X gender, they have Y color skin, etc - doesn't fly in my house. People are PEOPLE, not things to be categorized) so I didn't know what she'd think when she saw, with her own two eyes, a family with two mommies

And you know what she thought? Nothing. Didn't even phase her. It never registered as odd or out of place, it was never even something she mentioned, because she saw exactly what she sees every day: a bunch of kids with parents who love them, and give them coconut popsicles if you ask enough times. She wasn't even phased or the slightest bit confused when we all laughed about the last time we'd seen each other, when four year old 2of3 got into a heated argument with the entire family at a wedding, because it was UNCLE CHELSEA, EVERYONE, NOT AUNTIE SHUT UP. 

 

Children can change the way wee see everything, if we just shut up and follow their lead occasionally. 

I didn't vote last election. I was in Canada, it was a huge hassle, whatever whatever yada bullshit excuse, I was in Canada. This year, I look at my son who will be old enough to be drafted/fight and die in a war/vote come the next election and I think crap, I have to show him this is the only thing that matters in his whole entire life on November 6th. I have to show him that this is Priority Numero Uno, especially in Maricopa County where they have purposely whoopsie! tried to trick non-English speaking people into not voting, twice. So I registered to vote in a state that I don't want to be tied to because all I want to do is get out of here at my first earliest convenience and I have attachment issues like that, but I did it.

I registered to vote. Because it's the right thing for my kids.

I live here. Because for today, it's the right thing for my kids.

It's also very good for my taste buds. 

I'm getting really good at this cookie thing in Arizona, and I'm finding that the more I get into baking cookies, the more I get into Pinterest. I kind of hate myself for this: I find steampunk endlessly annoying and I don't care what color my staples are. Pinterest is not my thing. 

Except when it kind of is.

I don't google search recipes anymore - I Pinterest search. I don't twitter crowdsource Halloween crafts for my kids anymore - I Pinterest-source. 9/10 of the shit on Pinterest makes me worry, a lot, about the state of The American Public, but that remaining 1/10 is absolute, glorious, lemony good.

And royalty-free porn.

And I wonder why no one follows me on Pinterest.

So I kind of hate Pinterest, and I kind of hate honey, but I do like a clever contest and I really, really like taking trips, so I thought I'd mention this honey board contest I found while I was looking up porn lemon bread recipes on Pinterest the other day. They're giving like $4,500 in travel away or something. I didn't look too closely. Honey. *shudder*

Sadly, my main traveling days are over. I do get to travel a little bit with my new job at BlogHer (it's not really new, I still just can't believe I get to do THIS job for THIS company), but not nearly as much as I did in 2011. Last year I was on the road every single month of the year - tripping the fuck out over double rainbows in Oregon, singing all the words to New Edition songs in Maryland, and standing in front of the Walmart crying my American eyes out from toilet-shock in Harbin, China. Jim posted to day about our year on the road, and over course the whole post is bass fishing, donuts, and Cadillacs. Men, can't travel with'm, can't get them to apologize for making you film them eating bugs. I guess we can call him giving away a night at any Radission his atonement. 

I didn't actually find a suitable lemon bread recipe on Pinterest the other day, but I did find a lemon cookie recipe that I screwed six ways to Sunday today (though they look *magnificent*, and that, friends, is the magic of Pinterest) and I got a pumpkin bread recipe off Twitter from True Insolence that could end war n' stuff better than singin' loud (just dated myself right there, didn't I?). If you want it, drop her an @true_insolence tweet. 

And I'm trying to figure out what, if anything, to cook baby daddy on Halloween for his 40th birthday, and really, go ahead and ask me how weird it is that the angsty, writerly, built like a freight-train swimmer boy I saw across the room at Bennigan's just last week is turning FOUR OH next week. 

Weirdness abounds. Especially since I don't know if I am supposed to acknowledge it or not. Kids and divorce should both come with rules, especially when they cross streams. 

More notable than that is the fact that yesterday was my vagina's second birthday. ::confetti::

Two short years ago, some jerk stole my uterus and replaced it with a bendy straw he tried to pass off as a vagina. He said to me at my six week checkup, "this is the kid of surgery that either gets me a cigar and a bottle of scotch, or a broken nose." He was seriously the best OB ever.

The worst thing to come of this is that I am 37 and I want a baby so bad I can fucking taste it and I want to name it Floyd thanks SueBob and mine are all too big to cuddle and I can't have one anymore. The best thing to come of this is probably that, but also that my vagina now has both its own PR Director and Social Media Manager

@bblymwndtnnl on Twitter

See, what I know that companies like @KitchenAidUSA and @StubHub clearly don't is that you have to have extraordinary people, ones who are invested in both the message and the mechanism, holding the keys to your social media campaigns. Social media eats mediocrity for lunch. If you're going to properly brand something, you've got to have a team behind you that is in, 100%. 

Also, a team that will not post the pictures of your post-surgery sutures that you sent them via text message in a morphine-induced haze onto your pinterest free porn board, no matter how tempting it may be.

Excellence through discretion. That's Team Bubble Yum Wind Tunnel

Also, authenticity. 100% of bloggers surveyed agreed. 

PR, Social Media, and Testimonials. I think I'm going to sign my vagina up to host a Geek Bar at BlogHer '13. #doingitright

Aside: Tweets For Twats™, *the* social media management firm for vaginas, is accepting new clients. DM @bblymwndtnnl for rates and government regulations.

What A Dream I Had, Pressed In Organdy

Post featured on Blog Nosh Magazine
By the time this gets posted, most of you who are unfortunate enough to read my little blog will have already voted.  And I've waited until today to post it because I don't even for one second want to come across as "this is who you should vote for."  YOU should vote for whoever YOU deem most worthy.  This is simply putting it out there for one day, a day far away from now, when I'll wish I could go back to this day in our history, this monumental day for our nation, and see exactly what the hell I was thinking.

I am a bit of a conspiracy theorist.  I will never, ever check Catcher in the Rye out of the library.  I totally believe that JFK got shot by the government to get us into 'Nam.  I am fairly sure that we have proof of extra-terrestrial contact tucked away somewhere, and the only reason they interviewed people like my skull-less uncle for Project Blue Book is to hide the evidence.  To discredit sightings.  To make us THINK it was insanity.  Because, really, if that man told me the sky was over my head, that would only mean one thing: I was standing on it.

And so, as my paranoid little mind works, I am predicting a McCain/Palin win tonight.  Well, actually, I'm predicting and Obama/Biden win, a big fat temper tantrum, and an eventual GOP win.

It's not like it hasn't happened before. *coughgorecough*

I hope that doesn't happen.  I dream that when the GOP starts screaming FALSE COUNTS! that the DNC remembers that we still have a president until January, and we'll all happily wait while every single vote gets counted, while all the re-votes are cast.  If we can dump $750 billion into the market; we can pay the salary of the vote counters for a few extra weeks.

Hell, we're CREATING JOBS!

But in all sincerity, I dream that I am wrong.  I dream that tomorrow night, that socialist, skinny, not-quite-black-enough Muslim terrorist is my new president.  I dream that over the next eight years, he gets the chance to make every single person that threw those hideous accusations around about him eat their words.  I dream that my sons get a president they deserve, one they can look up to, one they will be proud in their golden years to say they can remember when he was the president, one that maybe at least one of them will serve under if they follow my family's tradition of military service.

Yup, I come from a military family.  Betcha didn't know THAT.

I am really heartbroken about John McCain.  I don't understand what he's doing, I really don't.  2000 John McCain was a decent guy, and I'm afraid he took too many lines from the Bush playbook after that race for the presidency.  I mean, remember how he had supposedly fathered an illegitimate child, dark skinned child?  Remember how he'd committed treason while a POW?  Or how he'd gone insane while he was imprisoned?  And what did McCain do about all those lies thrown around about him by the Bush camp?



He embraced the man and the soulless beast behind him.  Here's the thing, John McCain.  I could almost, almost, handle 8 more years of Bush.  What I can't handle is 8 more years of the people that come with Bush.  I can't have my fear preyed upon anymore.  I can't have my hopes exploited anymore.  I can't have my intelligence insulted anymore.  I can't be lied to, tricked, manipulated or talked down to anymore.  I cannot allow a small group of people to re-write the playbook for my nation's management anymore.  I can't handle the secrets, the deceits, the smears, the smoke and mirrors.

This is OUR goddamn country, and those people you call friends don't seem to get that.  If you choose to associate with them, take your queues from them, then I don't trust you with my country.  I don't trust your judgment, and I am damn well not going to pay you to run the show over decade that will see my boys become men.  I'm not worried about the company your parents kept when you were 8 years old; I'm worried about the company you are CURRENTLY keeping.



If you are willing to add discrimination and hate to the constitution of your home state, what are you going to do to the nation's constitution?  If you believe community service is a joke, something to mock, what kind of example are you setting for my children?  If you are willing to incite fear and hate into the hearts of your constituency, what are you going to do to the citizens of the entire nation, hell, the entire world, once you have a global platform?  If you can't understand that opening up the health care market will work out just about as well as deregulating the housing market has, how can I trust you with my tax dollars, with decisions that will affect my day to day life?  And if you ever EVER put my health or my daughter's health into air quotes again, so help me god, I will do everything in my power to get you thrown out of whatever office it is you currently serve in.

Today, I dream that you, sir, are judged, not by the color of your skin but the content of your character.  Which you seem to have let ambition rob you of.

Today, I am going to take my children to get portraits taken for the first time in 2 1/2 years.  We are going to come home and turn on The Daily Show and watch history made.  I will have tears in my eyes as I watch the electoral countdown.  My sons will stay up as long as it takes for the votes to all come in, and I dream that they will watch with pride as the first Black man in the history of this nation, this nation that was built on the backs of too many fine, nameless, forgetten black men, takes a stage and accepts his nomination.

My dream is also that someday, one day, my daughter will watch a woman do the same thing.  Just not today, please, not today.


Cross posted on my personal page at BlogHer.com.  Because I'm a glutton for punishment.

Recovery, Paging Doctor Biden

In 1973, when he was 30 and I was -2, Joe Biden first took office as Senator for the state of Delaware. For my entire life, Joe Biden has been the senator for my home state. That is quite a statement.

He was raised in the same city I was, which is about the size of your pinky. He graduated from the Catholic school right behind the McDonald's we went to. Our "city", and believe me when I tell you that I use that term loosely, is economically and racially diverse in a way that I have rarely seen in any other city I've been to that wasn't a major metropolis. I grew up so far below the poverty level we couldn't see it, and right across the street from me were ESTATES. It's an interesting place to be from, if for no other reason than that you cannot be a racist, or a classist, or an elitist in any way unless you never ever leave your house. You are forced to deal with people from every walk of life, forced to interact with them on the most basic, human levels, and you can't go grocery shopping with someone every single week and not eventually grow to understand them a little.

Needless to say, I have a thing for Joe Biden. Even if I didn't absolutely respect him for his politics, we're from the same tiny little town. We stick together, yo.

A lot of people are disappointed in Obama's choice to nominate Joe as his VP. They say he's old, tainted, too liberal, too prone to sticking his foot in his mouth, too jaded, too something. Since it's Democrat Week in the USA, and since I am going to fly into Ground Zero in two days, I want to just take a break from the poop talk for a second to tell you why I love Joe Biden, why he speaks to me, why HE is the reason I will vote Democrat in this coming up election.

The Violence Against Women Act. He WROTE it. He is a voice, a loud voice, a champion in the war against domestic violence, against gender based crimes. Domestic violence is a major problem in our country, I believe, due not only to a general unwillingness to prosecute it, but also because it is so hard for women to overcome. It messes with your head. It's that sort of violence that goes beyond a bruise and into the psyche of women, and does irreparable damage. I believe in fighting it, for fighting for women and mothers and families, for providing real, honest help to those families struggling with it. So does Joe. And not just in that "I'm going to say I do" way.

Abortion.  Hi, big sensitive topic that I don't like talking about on my blog.  I'll say this; I agree, 100%, with Joe Biden's track record of voting on abortion related issues.  He's a Catholic, I'm an atheist.  His beliefs, which he makes no secret about, so far have in no way influenced his votes.  He is a man of faith, and I respect that, but I am really afraid of someone rubbing their religion all over my constitution, whatever that religion may be.  When I see a Catholic man, a powerful politician, vote for stem cell research, against notifying parents about abortions, for spending A LOT of money on not abstinence education but responsible sex education, against anything really that is going to touch Roe V Wade, well, I respect and appreciate that.  Also, he, just like me, is all about banning partial birth abortions.  Which sounds contradictory, but I swear it's not.  Another day, another time.

He is against banning same sex marriages.  He'll let you burn a flag if that's what you've got to do.  His wife was a teacher for 30 years.  He gets it that public education matters.  He's written legislation to make sending your kids to college a little easier.

Joe Biden brings tempered experience to an Obama White House.  He has been doing this longer than Barack has been driving a car.  He speaks his mind, he's not one to sugar coat, he has a god damn sense of humour already, and he means what he says.  Yeah, maybe he voted for the war, but SO DID YOU.  (not all of you, but most of you, admit it)  Maybe he's way more into drug enforcement than I think he should be, but whatever.  I don't do drugs, never have, never will.  I kind of don't care.  Prosecute it if you must.  Maybe I just won't ever see eye to eye with him on everything, but I don't see eye to eye with my husband on everything either, and I let him see me naked.

There is a lot of chatter about how Obama messed up by tapping Biden for the VP spot, how it deters from his message of Change, and that we Dems will be disenchanted by that.  Realistically, I think (or maybe I just hope) that the vast majority of us, even those who are totally gun-ho for fresh blood and a new outlook in the White House, will appreciate that though there are quite a few slates that need to be wiped clean in our government, there are some that just need to be looked at with mature eyes, with understanding and reasonable and experienced eyes, and maybe just smoothed a little bit.  And that maybe excited, young, fresh eyes sometimes overlook things that someone a bit older, a bit wiser, someone who's looked for those things before will catch.

Right now, my country is heading towards the ICU.  My hope is that JObama will keep a good many things in our nation's post-operative care from slipping through the cracks.  Because, man oh lordy, if we don't get it right this time, I don't know if our little country is going to make it out whole.  And my country is a great place, with a long life ahead of it.

Copied and pasted from the comments, Miko564 adds this, which I wanted to, but couldn't find the words.  Thanks, yo.
I wasn't a fan of Biden's either, until I heard the story about his family.  He was elected to office, then his wife AND daughter were killed in a car accident.  (That would be where I would have curled up in the fetal position and stayed there for a year.)  He wants to abdicate the office to stay at home with his surviving sons.  His supporters talked him into staying in the Senate, but he wants to care for his sons.... So, he decides to stay in DE and COMMUTES TO DC BY TRAIN EVERYDAY FOR 30+ YEARS!!! He raises his kids AND serves his country in the Senate.

I am an independent, and have voted Rep as many times as Dem, but if that ain't family values I don't know what is.  Let Rush, and his like, talk about values, while becoming drug addicts, or trying to cheat on their wives in Airport bathrooms (cause they can't admit they're gay) and let REAL men do whatever needs to be done to take care of their own.

Politics

Perfect Post Award - 0508Five Star Friday
Big fat wet kissy hugs to Hotfessional for nominating this post for Petroville and Suburban Turmoil's May 08 Perfect Post. And thanks to them for not telling her it was crap. :)

I had a whole different post written for today. Three times, actually. I was trying to decide which draft to go with when I clicked on The Queen Mum's blog. And followed that back to Maria's. And then I scrapped it and started this post instead. Girls, this little momma who refuses to watch the news or read the paper thanks you today for the heads-up.

So, there is almost nothing I won't talk about on this blog, as you all are painfully aware of by now. I do, however, have a few things I steer away from. I don't write about my marriage, or my husband, because I did that once and it really hurt him. I don't write about the kid's godfather, because he asked me not to. Hell, I wouldn't write about anyone who asked me not to. I have a friend who is going through some legal battles, and he is one of my best friends, and I can't really write about him either, or his troubles, because of who he is in love with. And that infuriates me, but he needs me to use discretion. I try to keep the childhood posts to a minimum, because they are hard to write and, I imagine, hard to read. I don't blog about blogging, and it kind of drives me nuts when people do.

Other than that, it's sort of open season around here.

The one other thing I don't talk about, almost ever, that maybe I have hit on two or three times in all these years of blogging is politics. My choice is to play dumb over the internet. No one who reads this would have any clue that I give a dingo's kidneys about the political structure of the world.

You couldn't be more wrong.

I am ridiculously political, and stubborn, and opinionated, and I have not ever been able to find the right words to express my views clearly. I can argue religion or abortion or creationism with you all day long, but politics makes me stutter. I'll leave that sort of thing to Steve Green or Zombyboy or Instapundit. They know what they're talking about.

For one day only, I am going to share my thoughts with you, and then we are never going to talk about this again, okay?

I am mad at America. I am seethingly, silent treatment, sleeping on the couch pissed at America. Why? Because I have nothing good to tell my children about our government right now, and that is wrong.

I am not a Democrat, and I am sure as hell not a Republican. I don't really fit the Libertarian niche either. I am just a girl, born in America, who is very concerned. The kids godfather (see, I break rules) one shared this quote with me:

"If you're not a liberal when you're 20, you have no heart. If you're not a conservative when you're 40, you have no head."


I laughed. AT HIM. We then got into a heated argument about whether the Afghanistan conflict was going to fall into Iraq. We debated whether or not there were WMD's in Iraq. I told him, ooooh I told him that there weren't, that it was a lie and a scam and it was going to turn into war, and he swore there were. He stood behind his President. America stood behind their President and I, being too uneducated in the political system, stood back and held my breath.

Turns out, I was right. Turns out, we all got duped. Turns out, we re-elected this guy and then have just sat back and whined about what he's done to America, to the Middle East, to the global dynamic. That pisses me off, and that is why I am mad at America. We are, in the end, a bunch of freaking sissies who can't find the balls to stand up to a little guy from Texas who can't even speak one coherent sentence.

But still, I find myself following that quote more and more in my own life. My brother and I once argued over politics, social programs and such. I yelled at him for being so Republican, so against absolute help to those in need. I was disgusted by his views on taxes, how he complained about having so much taken from him to give to those less fortunate. How could he justify those statements? We grew up SOLELY provided for by the state and federal government. His point? He worked and kicked an scraped to give himself a better life, that it wasn't handed to him, that he had no privilege and almost no help, and he did it anyway. Basically, I said, "Dude, don't forget where you come from," and he said, "I didn't. I remember every day, and every day I work to make sure I never end up there again."

That? I can't argue that. Tell me more about flat tax now....

I don't think any change can come, any good can be done, until we overhaul the government. It has failed to serve us, the people. There are too many lobbyists and agendas and, well, politicians. Too much money is funneled towards special interests, and too many Americans who truly need are overlooked. Too many people go hungry, and unable to afford rent or food, at the cost of bombs and Halliburton and CEO's retirement funds. Too many communties are destroyed because Americans forgot to take care of America first and outsourced to China or wherever. The Lady Justice has some brutally unbalanced scales right now. And no one is doing anything about it. Me included. Hell, I turned tail and moved to CANADA. I am guilty as charged, yo.

I have sat on my pansy, fence-riding ass and waited for a whisper of revolution. For even one person to stand up and fight this governing body. I have waited for either Obama or Clinton to really attack they system as it is and instead I am listening to them bicker for a seat in it. I have waited for the Republican party to stand up for itself, to say, Hey, Man, this isn't what we meant. That guy isn't us. They haven't. They have positioned the one guy in the party who has proven he is too afraid to fight Bush head on to be his successor. And that is a damn shame, because I think if McCain could just stop and think for HIMSELF for two seconds, that he might actually have a something or two to contribute to restoring this country.

I am angry that my generation has not done what the generations before us have. We haven't effected change. We haven't stood up. We have more technology, more connection, and more knowledge than any generation before us has had, and they did something. They made massive strides for Civil Rights. They Protested the Vietnam War. We blog about how offended we are by one idiot. We listen to 24 hour news channels talk about Hilary's outfit choices. We watch Michael Moore documentaries that prey upon our fears the same way Bush did, and we let Bill O'Reilly convince us we're traitors if we stand up for what we believe is right. How can they end segregation with a radio and some very shady black and white tv reception and we can't stop these people from ruining our COUNTRY with all the tools that we have at our disposal?

It pisses me off. And so I do nothing about it. I don't even write about it, because honestly, I am beyond hope. I have thrown my hands in the air and given up. I never imagined, after 6 1/2 years of listening to lies, of waiting for someone to do something about it, that anyone ever would. I figured everyone, like me, was holding their breath too, waiting for November to hurry up and get here already.

And then, today, this:

Today, Keith Olbermann, you made me proud to be an American. Today, I finally heard some one stand up to that man and tell him to shove it up his ass. More importantly, I heard someone tell his ADMINISTRATION that at least one of us in on to them.

I am not going to be silent anymore. I am not going to hide behind the fact that I write a trivial mommy blog anymore. This is MY country, my CHILDREN'S country. This is what I am leaving them, and I am going to make damn sure it is righteous and upstanding and just.

I am not a Democrat. I am not a Republican. I am not an ex-pat. I am an AMERICAN. That is all.*

*Well, that's not all, really, but in the interests of keeping even two readers, I'm going to shut the hell up now.

Kindly linked by Five Star Friday, DaysGoBy, A Soul on Every Path. and Hank, who thinks I'm nuts but found the best way besides telling me how great my boobs look to tell me that.