Damn You, Little Rock

At the beginning of the year, I openly begged two friends to start blogs. One of them has. (I’m still working on the other.)  Andrea is writing Homeschooling Chickens. It’s as super as I thought it would be.

Although, it might have been a bad idea for her to go along with this scheme of mine. It’s only encouraged me to dream up more shenanigans for her… and others. You just never know when I’ll have an idea for you. I’m all ninja like that.

In the meantime, check out Andrea’s blog. You will not be disappointed.

Andrea's blog

I’ve always liked short hair. I’ve tried to wear my hair long on several occasions, but let’s face it, I kinda look like a horse.

I’ve been toying with the idea for a little while, then my friend Elizabeth got her hair cut.

Stolen from Facebook

Adorable, right? Then another friend Liz got her hair cut.

Stolen from Facebook

Also cute. Several other friends are joining the “supashort hair club.”I told my hair dresser to make me an appointment. It’s time. I need a change. She’s been so busy, it’s possible it could take six weeks for me to actually get this haircut. But I’ll post pics when it’s done.

I want to look like Gennifer Goodwin, but I’m reasonably sure I don’t get makeup and wardrobe with my hair cut. I’ll have to somehow make it work.

Stolen from IMDB

I had a great conversation with some really smart women last night. Mostly, we laughed. We talked about some serious things too.

Every one of us is concerned about the public discourse lately regarding women. Certainly, the Presidential candidates have our attention. Some of the things we’re hearing from them terrify me. It scares me to think there is support for the notion that taking rights and healthcare from women is not only ok, but necessary.

Interestingly, when I’ve mentioned this to most of the men I know, they blow it off as nothing. “He’s not electable,” they say, as if that supposed to make me feel better. They are right that some of these people have no hope of winning the Presidency.

Here’s the problem: they don’t have to win to be dangerous! All they have to do is carve out a space in the marketplace of ideas that looks legitimate for more people to join their merry little band.

Consider the following:

• Women still make 78 cents on the dollar to men, even when you adjust for education and time in the workforce.
• The more education a woman has, the bigger the disparity. That means women in professional positions make 72 cents on the dollar, compared with her male counterparts.
• Women work longer to get promoted, sometimes up to three years longer.
• Barely half of US employers offer any compensation during maternity leave for women.
• Women earn less than men in 99% of occupations.

So when someone with a national platform talks about reverse discrimination against men or how reducing health care coverage for women in child-bearing years is the best way to save money when we are behind the rest of the industrialized world on these topics, forgive me if my head almost explodes. You know why I don’t think my male friends are freaking out? No one’s talking about making their already challenging task even harder.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take one more unfortunate statistic, NPR reminded me there is yet hope, even in my less than progressive corner of the world. On this day, 80 years ago, Arkansas elected the first woman to the US Senate.

So here’s to Hattie Caraway! May she remind us all what we can achieve. We just have keep working to be sure the lunatics to who want to take us back in time are not taken seriously by anyone.

On January 12, 1932, upon winning a special election to fill the remaining months of her late husband’s term, Hattie Caraway became the first woman to be elected to the United States Senate. In November 1932, she won election to her first full term to the United States Senate and held the seat until January 2, 1945. This is the election certification from when Caraway was elected to her first full term to the U.S. Senate on November 8, 1932.

I haven’t felt like being all that funny this week. A sweet couple we know lost a baby. She was about halfway through the pregnancy. My heart is broken for them. It’s an incredibly sad situation.

Their pain and loss have nothing to do with me. But like so many of us in our little community of friends, I couldn’t help but personalize it a bit.

This morning I went and crawled in bed with Monkey Boy before he woke up. I snuggled up to him, burying my face in his hair to smell that little boy funk that no bath can ever fully remove. I was awash in gratitude… so thankful this little boy lives in my house.

Sometimes people try to say really nice things about adoption and what great people we are for having given our son “a better life” or “such a good home” or other such things. I know they mean well, but I don’t think they get it.

I felt again this morning the same way I’ve always felt: selfish. I wanted this little boy to be my son. I wanted to be his mom. There’s nothing altruistic about it. I was overtaken with a primal need to be a parent, not a desire to save the world.

It could be argued, as has been on more than one occasion, I probably should have taken a pass on the mom gig. I lack the patience and fortitude the job demands.

But this morning, in the dark, while I listened to him breathe, I was overcome with the feeling that I’ve always gotten more than I deserve. He is living proof.