Thought I would post these today, with permission of course. Time slips away and these moments are gone before you realize it. Thank You Baby Girl – for allowing me to save them and share them. You’re beautiful! May 3, 2014
…What were Fair in Life; but finding what may be – make it Fair up to our Means.” ~ Anne McCaffery
This made headlines recently and I figured I could use a good op-ed piece to get my muse kick-started again. So here goes…
First of all, I am completely supportive of same-sex couples adopting and/or having their own biological children together. A loving home with good consistent co-parenting is a key factor in raising a healthy well-adjusted child. (I’m leaving single parenting out of my factoring in this case, although a loving strong and consistent single parent is just as effective in raising a healthy well-adjusted child – I think we all can agree that having two involved parents is the optimal situation for all concerned. Parenting is a tough gig.) That said, it is not the “right” of any couple to be able to have children simply because they want them.
If one or both of the partners is infertile then medical insurance can cover procedures to mitigate that, and/or provide Artificial Insemination or other options to assure pregnancy. In the case of this lesbian couple – its safe to presume that at least the biological mother was fertile – in which case it was NOT incumbent upon her medical insurance (if she had any) to provide coverage for the AI procedure. Just as it is not incumbent upon a fertile heterosexual woman’s insurance to provide that coverage. There’s no problem with the plumbing in either case.
No, I can’t say its fair that same-sex couples have to struggle on this level too, but in regard to this issue – that’s the way it is. I’m going to use myself as an analogy here for a moment: I had bariatric surgery several years ago. I could use a few nip/tucks here and there post-weight loss. However, I am not covered for it. Fair? Nope. But that’s the way it is. Life’s given me bat-wings so I better learn to fly with them! Anyway, however any of us may feel about same sex relationships, and related civil rights – we cannot deny basic biology. Unless there is some help or scientific intervention there can be no fertile relationships between same sex partners.
So, – the correct thing to do if AI is the way fertile females are choosing to conceive, is to SAVE THEIR MONEY in order to get the procedure done. Mistake #1 in the case I am discussing here. Mistake #2: The couple advertised online (Craigslist???) for a sperm donor. They must be OUT OF THEIR FREAKIN MINDS. Mistake #3: The man involved actually responded to an online advertisement to be said donor. He was not a registered sperm donor. HE must be OUT OF HIS FREAKIN MIND too. The poor kid could’ve ended up with John Wayne Gacy or Delphine LaLaurie as parental material!
We all know what a wonderful, safe place the internet is, so let’s search it to find the perfect person to create a child with…….. OR NOT.
Mistake #4: AI is a medical procedure with inherent risk even when performed by a licensed physician. Conception a la Turkey Baster at home is, how shall I say this – a “Bozo No-No”….. yeah that works…. The woman was fortunate in that her home performed procedure did not result in complications such as infection, peritonitis, sepsis, STD’s, or even death – and lead to a healthy baby.
I guess my bottom line here is that life isn’t fair. We all have dreams that are unfulfilled; things we want to do that we cannot. It is what it is, and we should try to make the best of it if we cannot change it. The Kansas court rightly decided that the donor should be responsible for child support in that proper procedures were not followed by any of the adults involved regarding the insemination of the woman, or the subsequent support of the resulting child. The judge also quite correctly inferred that the child is the person who matters here. Hopefully this will serve as a heads up to other couples deciding whether or not to have AI. If you want to be a sperm donor, please register and donate at a licensed medical facility. These steps protect you legally. If your insurance doesn’t cover artificial insemination, save your pennies, consult a lawyer, draw up a binding contract that clearly spells out obligations and will be recognized in court, and use state approved and medically licensed facilities and personnel to perform the procedure. Or alternatively – ADOPT. There are far too many children who need loving and supportive homes out there. But that’s another story…..
Lyrics from ‘South Pacific’
You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear,
You’ve got to be taught from year to year,
It’s got to be drummed in your dear little ear,
You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff’rent shade,
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,
You’ve got to be carefully taught!
I must admit I didn’t get the underlying social messages when I watched this wonderful movie as a youngster. I was more interested in the beaches, and later as a teen – in the beefcake – to give much thought to a little bit of a song in the midst of all that glorious technicolor – sun, sand, the United States Navy, and the US Marine Corps.
That little throwaway number has become an earworm for me over the last few weeks, as I try to make sense of the senseless. I did a bit of research about the song, which actually had a pretty powerful message for 1949; and again in 1958 when the movie was released. Apparently Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein felt so strongly about the importance of that message they insisted it remain in the performances, even if it meant that the production failed. In essence, this song was the lynchpin of the entire play/movie to them, and could not be removed. And it was not, despite considerable political pressure to do so.
Humans are not born racists, homophobes, bullies, misogynists, thugs, or criminals. We are taught, and as the song goes – by “six or seven or eight” – taught to hate. It’s pretty easy actually. You just have to point your finger at someone who looks or acts different than you and blame them for your misfortunes. It’s easier than blaming yourself, after all. You just have to be afraid of the different. It’s kind of genetically programmed into us – right? Biology and survival of the fittest ; we cull out the mutations. We make snapshot judgements about others and we pass on what we think we “know” to our little ones. With our words, and with our actions, we teach our children to mistrust and/or hate people who aren’t exactly like us. Chips off the old block, as it were. We’re becoming increasingly polarized, intolerant, violent, and murderous. It’s almost impossible to even agree to disagree these days. The uber liberals and uber conservatives belittle and scoff at one another in their quest to be “right” and get the last word. Centrists don’t seem to have a voice – and a loud centrist voice is sorely needed. I had hopes at one point that our POTUS would be that voice, hopes that have been dashed by the realization he can’t even get out of his own way, much less facilitate an environment where all can come together to work towards solutions.
So I guess it’s up to us folks, and not the politicians. And maybe that’s as it should be. If change is not coming from our government, we must bring it to our government. Rightly, righteously, respectfully. We hold these truths to be self-evident:
That all people are created equal and endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
We need a different lesson plan for People; for Families. We start with self respect; we set a standard for behavior at home and in public and we hold everyone accountable. We talk TO our children rather than AT them. We do not tolerate bullying or demeaning behavior and we support our children to speak out if they are targeted; and to stand up for others who are being harassed. We stop making excuses for offenders and we expect consequences for offenses. It’s based on the Golden Rule. Do unto Others…. We have the talk with our sons about respecting our daughters. We have the talk with our daughters about respecting our sons. We encourage learning – more books and less TV. We work at making our adult relationships work so that our children can see that these commitments are neither convenient or disposable. We admit when we are wrong, and we apologize. We can reeducate, but it will take some hard work. . I feel sometimes like I am screaming at the top of my lungs to what at best is echoing silence. These truths I have outlined, this lesson plan for humanity is SELF-EVIDENT. A no-brainer. A return to that Golden Rule and the Core Values our society is based on (see above).
Above all we need to get mad, in the proactive sense. We have to stand up and scream “No More!” No more hate speech, no more name calling, no more profiling, no more beatings, no more rapes. No more feeding a beast that deems softcore porn appropriate entertainment matter for a globally televised awards show. No more judicial system that says a 14 year old girl bears responsibility for consenting to sexual activity with a man more than twice her age… Just exactly how does one become “older than their chronological years” anyway? She is not an emancipated minor – just so that’s clear. 14 is not capable of legally consenting to ANYTHING. Coercion is implicit when a much older person gets a minor to perform sex acts. Apparently this is something the judge chose to ignore in his statement of ruling. No more mothers who sit bored and yawning in a Georgia courtroom where their son is on trial for cold bloodedly shooting an 18 month old toddler. Society’s Moral Compass is severely misaligned at present, quite obviously.
It bears repeating – This is what we need to be CAREFULLY TEACHING:
Treat others with Respect and Kindness, even if you do not receive Kindness in return. Remember that a difference of opinion is not a personal attack. If you can’t say something nice(ly); don’t say anything at all. (“You Stay Classy San Diego!”)
Play by the Rules.
Help your Neighbor.
Speak out about Injustice and Inequality. Be that shining light in dark places when all other lights go out.
Own your mistakes and strive to do better.
Get – and stay – Educated. Learn to read, speak publicly, write well, and most importantly LISTEN. You’ll find out much more when you are silent and observant.
Above all – Love one Another.
That’s not really so hard to do. The government isn’t going to legislate that for us. We have to do it ourselves. It starts with an individual commitment to change, and a commitment to raise our children to be better people than we are. How many of you reading this are willing to make that commitment, take that step, and for example perform an act of kindness for a total stranger? Give up getting a few extra presents under the Christmas tree and instead donate that money – or some of your time, to a food pantry or homeless shelter? Set limits with your children and enforce them? This includes curfews, and dare I say it again – some form of dress code? We can carefully teach our children by our loving example. They pay far more attention to what we do. What we say – not so much. (Ask any mother of a teenager about that – we’ll tell ya!) Hold the door open for an elderly person, offer to help someone struggling with grocery bags. Show our kids that we have respect for one another and I’m pretty sure our kids will start showing respect too.
I do not want these people, and countless others I can’t name, to have died or suffered for nothing – please remember them:
Delbert Belton. Christopher Lane. Antonio Santiago. Trayvon Martin. Matthew Shepherd. Islan Nettles. Cheryl Green. Jyoti Singh. Brandon Teena. James Earl Chaney. Andrew Goodman. Mickey Schwerner. Martin Luther King. Phoebe Prince. Jamey Rodemeyer. Reginald Denny. Paramjit Kaur. Satwant Singh Kaleka. Prakash Singh. Sita Singh. Ranjit Singh. Suveg Singh. Francois Chenu. Ginger Slepski. James Byrd. Jennifer Daugherty. The Victims and Families of 9/11. The Victims of the Manson Family Murders – included because it was Manson’s stated intention to incite a race war. The 11 million + Victims of The Holocaust. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………
- Where prejudices and rascism comes from (mynameiswelk.wordpress.com)
- What We Are Actually Taught (sarahilyse.wordpress.com)
Greetings All! I have been away for awhile here, attending to things at Hacienda Del Chaos. (aka My Life) July was insanely busy with amazing social events, including but not limited to 2 weddings and a family reunion. Then I also managed to get sick; which as my British friends might say, took the starch right out of my knickers. The amount of tired I have been is unmeasurable. We also have several extended family members who are quite ill at the moment. Last summer was much worse in terms of stress and family illness – but I could certainly do with less of that this year – and all the years to come. Sadly, I am also sure that will not prove to be the case…..
I have been too busy or worn out to feed my muse lately and she has begun screaming at me so I think it past time to unlock her from the padded cell again, 😉 I do feel better – connected and grounded somehow, when I write or work on my photography. So this post is going to be about whatever pops into my head – just so I can get back into the swing of things. The girls have been busy this summer spending less time at home and giving us a dress rehearsal for the empty nest looming on the horizon. Not sure I’m liking this, but it definitely serves as a prod for me to develop and nurture my hobbies and interests. Hello! I will need something to do when they move, right? I may be entering some photography contests or local exhibitions during fair season this fall – not sure yet.
So what keeps us going when life gets so busy? I find myself more and more just moving through my daily routine without much active thought. My goal is getting through the day so I can collapse on my couch or in my bed at the end of it – thankful to have a place to lay my head down. If I have to guess in a word, I would say the answer is “Relationships” That connection to others. And relationships are hard work. Like gardening, we need to water and feed – develop, maintain, and enhance. Sometimes, we also weed and prune; reassess , re-categorize, or just move on.
Most always, the process of staying connected takes relatively little time – a shout out text or email; a quick note or phone call; a sit down dinner, a sofa or pillow conversation is generally all that’s needed to maintain the status quo. ‘Whats up with you? Hows it going?’ and then listening. Generally, the person on the receiving end of your communique will be delighted that you thought of them and glad to hear from you. I do try to stay connected to my friends and family regularly. Most often, this involves a phone call, but texts and emails work as well. My immediate family ( The Viking and The Girls – we are all pretty good with the communication dept for the most part) So what happens when things break? When you send those texts/emails and make phone calls/leave voicemails and hear nothing back for weeks at at time (if ever)? This is especially hurtful if you value that relationship considerably. Or, you drift so far away from someone you don’t know how to reconnect – or even if you should?
Let me tell you a true story. I had a dear friend at one point a few years ago. A long time friend. The type of friend you speak with every morning before work, and generally chatted with several other times during the week as well. The kind of friend you were matron of honour for at her wedding. Whose daughter is your goddaughter and who was flower girl at your own wedding. We had our arguments, but patched things up fairly quickly all in all. Her dad got sick with that long slow journey into darkness (the dreaded A- word) and she moved in with him to take care of him. I had issues with my family, including the death of my father in 2007 as well. She and her husband came to the wake. Our daily conversations became weekly, then sporadic, then practically non-existent. I’d periodically think “I really have to call her and catch up”, but something always came up that needed my attention immediately, and by the time I thought about it again it was well past an acceptable time to pick up the phone. At the time, mornings with a high schooler and a middle schooler were (and probably still are) not conducive to telephone conversations – so our former pattern was not an option. Then, I ran into her daughter and granddaughter at the Christmas Tree Lighting at the Town Square a few years back. I asked her how her mom was, and how her grandfather was doing. She looked at me funny, and then told me Pop had died the previous year. I was dumbfounded. No one had told me, and I don’t get the paper or read obituaries online. Of course, karma being what she is , I turn around after mumbling some very embarrassed and extremely belated condolences, and my friend was standing right behind me…. I offered my condolences again, saying I’d no idea he’d passed away. They were accepted quite frostily – and that, as they say, was that. Can’t say I blame her on that one. I run into her daughter occasionally and we chat. I do miss my friend, but I have absolutely no idea how to fix this one – or at this point if it is beyond a fix and I should just continue moving on…. The whole situation saddens me immensely.
In other relationships, for example – the actions of my toxic monster in law; and the sister in law I’ve never met in the 29 years I’ve been with my husband; have made the choice to stay away from them super easy- breezy. I guess there’s always at least a few in every family. And conversely – in every family I’m sure there are members we would love to stay in closer touch with – but for whatever reason(s) we are not. I would be interested to see how you all address these issues, particularly with a view to reestablishing and reaffirming broken connections with valued others. So please feel free to comment, and take my poll!
Remember when you were a kid, and you couldn’t wait to sit at the grown up table on holidays? No more mismatched chairs, paper plates and plastic cups at the rickety old card table. No sirree bub – you got the formal dining room and the good china at the adults table. You were where it was happening. Definitely a mini rite-of-passage, at least for this chick. As the oldest child and oldest grandchild I got to go first. Woo Hoo! Welcome to the Party, Pal!
But I want to talk about a different table. The Head Table. I don’t mean where Bride and Groom sit during their reception, or where the Silver and Gold Anniversary Couples get to sit. Those are cool places to be. The happy place – center of attention and hub of the party wheel. I want to talk about the table you get move up to – and sit at – when your parents pass away. Its not an actual table, but its a real thing nonetheless. And its emotional, and scary. If all goes as hoped, you’re bound for the cemetery next. Not that anyone hopes to die, but if The Fates are kind, they take you before your children.
When you step up to take your seat at the table (if those Fates have once again smiled upon you) you’re usually middle aged – and usually with children and grandchildren by that point. Sitting down, you get to take stock of your life to date. You evaluate your goals, reevaluate them and maybe even change career direction. Or divorce. Or remarry. Have a full blown nuclear mid life crisis.
Make a menopausally fueled Hit List. Or none of those things. But – underlying whatever is going on is the stark reality that there’s no human buffer zone between you and the Great Beyond anymore. No safety net below you as you stand on the platform at the ceiling of the Center Ring. Tag. You’re it.
I was chatting with my Aunt Jean the other day. She lives near Chicago, but we try to connect with one another as much as possible. She was 17 when I was born, and she’s my Godmother. We were discussing careers and work. She mentioned that at my age- I’m at the apex career wise. If I’ve reached for the brass ring already – great. If not, I’d better do it soon. She didn’t say so, but I thought – I’m approaching the Head Table, dammit. I haven’t sat down yet because my Mom is still with us; but I’m halfway up there as of 2007 when my Dad left us terribly, suddenly. Two of my best friends in the world – Cheryl and Martha – have a seat saved for me. Cheryl’s been sitting up there since 1999. Martha, since last year.
I’ll be in great company, but I’m really not ready to move up to the Head Table yet. Those Fates though, they don’t deign to ask whether or not you’re ready to sit up there. And if I had to guess, I would say that NO ONE is ever ready for a seat at this particular table. The view is probably lovely up there – friends, family etc. The love, palpable. But it seems a lonely place, regardless of the company you’re in. And, taking your seat up there acknowledges that you are, in point of fact, now an orphan.
So, as I meander towards my new assigned seating (which I FERVENTLY hope I will not have to sit in for a few years yet) I find myself asking the questions: Am I happy? What makes me happy? Do I matter? Selfish questions, but at my age I’ve paid enough dues in life to ask such selfish questions. I also ask unselfish ones: Have I made a difference to someone, helped someone, been a good parent? (Don’t ask my girls that until I’ve had a chance to bribe them) Hahaha! ;). And finally: What do I want to do with the next 30+ years of my life? I’ve certainly discovered a passion for writing and photography in the last year or so. I would like to build on that if I can.
What questions will you be asking yourself as you approach The Head Table? Or, what are you thinking about as you sit there? Inquiring Minds…. etc.
Finally. It’s been ages since Mother Nature’s had a drink around here. Not that the lawns are turning brown already or anything – but the brush fire danger is high. In fact, we had some IDIOT flick a cig out his or her window between exits 4 and 3 westbound on the Pike and voila – brush fire extraordinaire! The day started off overcast, then cleared up with sunny skies. Late this afternoon it got that dark charcoal look. Downpour imminent. No thunderboomer though. Just a cataclysmic waterfall from the sky – and right when I was leaving work for the day. I had to crank up the defogger to the max, as well as peg out the windshield wipers.
Didja ever notice that the road gets kind of greasy during the first rain after a long dry spell? Believe me, I could see miniature rainbows in the runoff on the pavement. Not that it slowed me down any on the Mass Pike. 😉 Speed Demon – that’s me. AKA Masshole Driver. Muahahahaha! Despite the flood I drove faster than I probably needed to. Strangely I don’t usually listen to music on the way to and from work. I’m too busy inside my head figuring out my day, and on the way back – my evening.
Anyhoo-I decided to be a good wife and pick up The Viking at work. Normally he rides his mountain bike back and forth every day (its a 2 mile trip one way). We’ve downsized to one car for the two of us and so far its working out OK. Those days where its bad weather I always try to make sure I offer to bring him to work or pick him up. 9/10 times he’s already got a ride – but I always offer. I have the (much) longer commute so kind of got the vehicle privileges by default. I had texted him as I left work, but he was unable to respond, nor did he pick up when I called so I just figured to swing by on the way home. Good thing I did. The downpour followed me from Chicopee. And The Viking was glad to see me! I made sure to park right next to the bike.
He got the bike loaded and we took off towards home. Traffic wasn’t too bad – considering. Clay Hill was awash with runoff and there was minor flooding at the bottom at the corner of Notre Dame by Mestek. The rain lasted till about an hour after we got home, and has subsided for the moment. Its still overcast, but” pink and grey” -ly so. The light is ethereal right now, and the grass has a neon green glow to it. The mockingbird is kicking up a fuss down the street and the air smells of petrichor. That wonderful, strangely melancholic, fresh after the rain smell that means green; and growing.
I’m thinking Mayhem will have a date with the lawnmower this weekend, as she wants to earn some spending money for Anime Boston at the end of the month. Chaos’ cat – Guy Walworth aka Sir aka Sir Guy – is hanging out with me in the porch window. So far, I have no allergic or asthmatic complaints – and I fully own up to the fact that I am a complete SAP and can’t say no when an animal needs rescuing. (Long story – but suffice to say that I do not recommend getting a pet with one’s boyfriend – pets are for long term, live together, stable relationships) Anyway, I’m hoping we get some more of the wet stuff tonight. The sound of rain on my roof will be lovely as I drift off to la-la land. But, I hope it clears up in time for the weekend. I want to get out and about with my camera.
I also strangely feel the need to find our old VHS copy of “Winnie the Pooh and The Blustery Day” The kids used to love watching that. Mayhem’s favorite toy when she was very little was “Heppa”. It was a Puff-a-Lump that she renamed after the song “Heffalumps and Woozles” I’m very confu-zzled…. ;). Anyway, it still smells awesome outside, and I am so grateful to be able to smell it. (normally I have no sense of smell due to chronic sinus problems). I’m enjoying my second glass of moscato white wine, and trying to decide what to have for dinner. Here’s hoping for a pleasantly relaxing evening – listening to the rain on the roof. Hugs to all.
- What Makes Rain Smell So Good? (blogs.smithsonianmag.com)
- Petrichor (shainalane.wordpress.com)
- Brush fire on Mass Pike put out quickly (wwlp.com)
- Gifting words (retetapentruimposibil.wordpress.com)
- Rain is (finally) here (wwlp.com)
Heres the song reference, a little before my time but good music NEVER goes out of style, does it?
The air smells divine this evening. Yes, I can actually smell the apple blossoms this year – albeit faintly. Its FINALLY May in New England. Wedding Season. I should head up to Stanley Park soon as things should be in full flower up there by now. But my side yard beckoned this afternoon. I like the play of light and shadow on the leaves and blossoms. There was quite a breeze but the blossoms held on strong. Its sure been a lovely day today. We could use some rain – which I understand is finally in the forecast this week thankfully. Not much else to say. I’m gonna let the pictures do the talking. I hope you all like them! HUGS!