Been thinking (and that's always dangerous) about a quote I first heard in high school--
First they came for the communists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.
--Martin Neimoller
Tracy Pullan will speak out for me.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
the moms of gymnastics
Annabelle has been in gymnastics this spring, so every monday at 2, I wake tallulah up from her nap and drive/drag both girls out to the place where she takes her lessons, and she does all kind of stuff for an hour while I sit out with the other moms and unruly siblings watching our kids...of course I am watching the moms too:
1. the normal moms: I put myself in this category. They come in varied attire, sometimes in work out gear, sometimes in jeans, they watch their kids with and mess with their phones. When the lesson is over their kids run to them and they give them water and tell them how wonderful they are and what a great pull over they just did.
2. the frumpy mom: this lady has totally let herself go...and she is taking her kids with her. They are messy and run all over the place. She is nice enough, but I look upon her scornfully, for whatever wretched reason that causes people to need to look down on someone who is doing their best. But despite my scorn at her appearance, after the class her girl runs to her and she tells her how wonderful she is what a great job she did.
3. The uber mom: this lady has 4 kids under 6. Three boys and one baby girl. She is tall and thin and always as cool as a cucumber. When her baby poops, she doesn't inwardly groan and roll her eyes and check her watch to see if it is reasonable that they wait until they get home to change the diaper...she just smiles and laughs and gets up to change her. She wears appropriate mom clothes and always a little makeup. Her kids are well behaved and she handles their few transgressions like they are no big deal. She chats with another mom she knows--who is also in awe of her--as her kids play. She is always cheerful and quite possibly mormon--except she is too old to have kids that young. She is just cool. And her boys adore her
4. The glamour mom: She is tall and skinny with long blonde hair. I think her daughter's name is Skyler. Gag. Her hair is always blown out and she is wearing something fancy that definitely did not come from gap, the loft, or target (these being the only place's that stay at home mom's are allowed to get their stuff at) and every week she totes a different huge kate spade bag. She is always on her phone making dinner reservations or vacation plans. She is trying to get her kids in as many camps as she can for the summer. She has also financed a tempur-pedic mattress and it is soooo comfortable. (and I am thinking-lady if you need to finance that thing, you have no business buying it) She looks down at the rest of us with scorn, for whatever wretched reason--because to her we are all the frump moms. And I can't tell if I hate her or am jealous of her....
But the thing is--after the class is over her two kids run out to her and she hugs the big and tells them how wonderful they are and what wonderful pull overs they did--and it is obvious that she was watching them the whole time, even while making her vacation plans. Her kids adore her too.
They all adore us, we, the awesome moms of gymnastics.
1. the normal moms: I put myself in this category. They come in varied attire, sometimes in work out gear, sometimes in jeans, they watch their kids with and mess with their phones. When the lesson is over their kids run to them and they give them water and tell them how wonderful they are and what a great pull over they just did.
2. the frumpy mom: this lady has totally let herself go...and she is taking her kids with her. They are messy and run all over the place. She is nice enough, but I look upon her scornfully, for whatever wretched reason that causes people to need to look down on someone who is doing their best. But despite my scorn at her appearance, after the class her girl runs to her and she tells her how wonderful she is what a great job she did.
3. The uber mom: this lady has 4 kids under 6. Three boys and one baby girl. She is tall and thin and always as cool as a cucumber. When her baby poops, she doesn't inwardly groan and roll her eyes and check her watch to see if it is reasonable that they wait until they get home to change the diaper...she just smiles and laughs and gets up to change her. She wears appropriate mom clothes and always a little makeup. Her kids are well behaved and she handles their few transgressions like they are no big deal. She chats with another mom she knows--who is also in awe of her--as her kids play. She is always cheerful and quite possibly mormon--except she is too old to have kids that young. She is just cool. And her boys adore her
4. The glamour mom: She is tall and skinny with long blonde hair. I think her daughter's name is Skyler. Gag. Her hair is always blown out and she is wearing something fancy that definitely did not come from gap, the loft, or target (these being the only place's that stay at home mom's are allowed to get their stuff at) and every week she totes a different huge kate spade bag. She is always on her phone making dinner reservations or vacation plans. She is trying to get her kids in as many camps as she can for the summer. She has also financed a tempur-pedic mattress and it is soooo comfortable. (and I am thinking-lady if you need to finance that thing, you have no business buying it) She looks down at the rest of us with scorn, for whatever wretched reason--because to her we are all the frump moms. And I can't tell if I hate her or am jealous of her....
But the thing is--after the class is over her two kids run out to her and she hugs the big and tells them how wonderful they are and what wonderful pull overs they did--and it is obvious that she was watching them the whole time, even while making her vacation plans. Her kids adore her too.
They all adore us, we, the awesome moms of gymnastics.
Monday, May 7, 2012
attention amphibians making songs of love in my backyard
Please note: this is not going to be a repeat of last year. I will not keep the sandbox filled with water, like I did for your parents. It attracted mosquito larvae, which you ate, and ants, which ate your brothers and sisters and was a general disgusting mess. And while 5 of you survived into toadhood, I can assure you, your progeny will not. And I don't care how interesting it is, and what a wonderful learning experience it was--the main thing I learned was that Hyphen can complain insufferably about the sandbox, which I already knew from the summer before that, when it was a novelty and Annabelle and her friends were tracking sand all over the house.
I am firmly in his corner this year, and on the rare occasions in which we are of the same mind, we are a marital force with which to be reckoned.
I am firmly in his corner this year, and on the rare occasions in which we are of the same mind, we are a marital force with which to be reckoned.
the current state of race relations
H thinks that there is no such thing as race. He says that all the time, usually after making some off color joke as a way to excuse his rude humor. I am not sure about that. I only know that in this house, we have never, despite H's jokes, referred to anyone by their skin color. We say the guy in the purple shirt, or something like that to identify people. When Annabelle was obsessed with Princesses two Christmases ago, she called Princess Tiana the "green princess," because she wears a green dress, and we loved her for that. Her innocence, her not noticing, not caring, to Annabelle she was the green princess. And she thought she was as beautiful as Cinderella, but not as beautiful as Ariel. Ariel having red hair and all, has a far superior beauty to the rest....
She has an idea about Mexican, because grandma speaks Spanish and thinks that Papa and Om Noi and Ba Noi speak "Chinese" and that they came from a country where people "didn't want them to be free". She also famously said when we went to get dim sum, "watch out papa, people in chinatown, don't know how to drive." (something she hears a lot from her dad when we go to chinatown).
But she notices--tons of little things that children, whose minds aren't jumbled up, filled with a lifetime of geometry formulas, mpre questions, phone numbers, grocery lists and other such and nonsense, do. And I have been waiting for her to notice that people look different and ask why.
Today in church she went to the children's mass. When she came back she complained, that there was a boy that was teasing her and saying that he could spank her and saying that she was being bad, "but I was doing my job mama, he was the one who wasn't doing his job. "Who was this boy?" I asked. "Well, I don't know him, but he doesn't have the regular pink skin like we do, his skin is brown like papa's" I sat and thought about who it could be and told her to point him out at me after church.
And she did, a little black boy, about her age, walked by us and smiled and waved like crazy when Church was over. Annabelle gave her one of her grumpiest looks.
Then I had to explain to her why boys tease little girls and then wave at them later--which might be harder to explain than that God made people, like flowers in a garden each a different color, but each just as lovely. "that's funny" she said and chuckled, "why do they do that?" And then she saw her friend C_________ and forgot all about the incident.
I didn't say anything about her description of his skin--it was her observation, and interesting that she saw it as the same as her father's and groups people into two categories: pink and brown.
I was hopeful that we, who are a mixed race couple, me a mixed race person, with friends of all sorts could raise a child to not see it--and despite our best efforts, I am not sure we will succeed, but I am going to cherish the green princesses era and stretch it out for as long as we possibly can.
She has an idea about Mexican, because grandma speaks Spanish and thinks that Papa and Om Noi and Ba Noi speak "Chinese" and that they came from a country where people "didn't want them to be free". She also famously said when we went to get dim sum, "watch out papa, people in chinatown, don't know how to drive." (something she hears a lot from her dad when we go to chinatown).
But she notices--tons of little things that children, whose minds aren't jumbled up, filled with a lifetime of geometry formulas, mpre questions, phone numbers, grocery lists and other such and nonsense, do. And I have been waiting for her to notice that people look different and ask why.
Today in church she went to the children's mass. When she came back she complained, that there was a boy that was teasing her and saying that he could spank her and saying that she was being bad, "but I was doing my job mama, he was the one who wasn't doing his job. "Who was this boy?" I asked. "Well, I don't know him, but he doesn't have the regular pink skin like we do, his skin is brown like papa's" I sat and thought about who it could be and told her to point him out at me after church.
And she did, a little black boy, about her age, walked by us and smiled and waved like crazy when Church was over. Annabelle gave her one of her grumpiest looks.
Then I had to explain to her why boys tease little girls and then wave at them later--which might be harder to explain than that God made people, like flowers in a garden each a different color, but each just as lovely. "that's funny" she said and chuckled, "why do they do that?" And then she saw her friend C_________ and forgot all about the incident.
I didn't say anything about her description of his skin--it was her observation, and interesting that she saw it as the same as her father's and groups people into two categories: pink and brown.
I was hopeful that we, who are a mixed race couple, me a mixed race person, with friends of all sorts could raise a child to not see it--and despite our best efforts, I am not sure we will succeed, but I am going to cherish the green princesses era and stretch it out for as long as we possibly can.
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