This Is What Girls Do … ?

photo.jpg

I took my daughter shopping today and I feel guilty.

No, I didn’t buy her anything crazy or let her run the mall with wild abandon. I feel guilty because we, admittedly, had a girlie day.

She had asked to go “shopping like girls do” and I told her I would take her. And I did. And we had a damn good time.

She tried on clothes and twirled. She attempted to help me pick out “pretty dresses.” We ate lunch and acted like every day was girl day.

So why the guilt over being girls? I’m not sure. Perhaps the hardened feminist core that is me, hates the idea of “shopping and doing lunch” with my daughter. Teaching her “this is what girls do.”

But you know what? We did it, because she asked…and it was fun. I loved watching her find a new item on the rack and squeal. I did. I really did. I also loved watching her hold up a shirt to say “how does this one look Mamma?”

Now I’ll sit back and let you all tell me how this is what you knew would happen because Hillary lost. Ready? Go.

No Then. No Now.

halloween08 003
Because explaining to my children that everyone has rights – except some people – is unacceptable.

Muscles

Said to the nice, unsuspecting, stunned cashier at a major department store:

“I have muscles in my VAGINA!”

Farmers market fun

Of Dining Halls And Grandmothers

I lost both of my grandmothers when I was fairly young. I remember bits and pieces of them, sometimes in a flash of clarity and sometimes in a foggy haze.

I can tell you my maternal grandmother has to be where I got my drive. I remember sitting in her office in a muggy Florida strip mall, begging for $2 to walk down to the gift shop and buy some horrendous shell man or orange bobble head. She would make me file a paper or empty her trash before I had ‘earned’ enough for my souvenirs. She owned that business and ran it. An entire sanitation company. Women owned business were rare then. Still are.

She loved the dog track, and Jai alai, and her lotto numbers.

I also can remember the mass of pill bottles on her dresser. And how we weren’t allowed in her room, ever, unsupervised.

My paternal grandmother was very different. She would allow my cousin and I to sleep in her bed when visiting. We’d giggle as she undressed in front of us (I clearly got my boobs from this grandma) and then she would crawl in between us, as I do now with my children, and sing. She would sing to us songs I can still hear in my head when laying in bed at night.

She would make us necklaces out of bubble gum wrappers and later, after a stroke, smile as big as the sun when we’d enter her nursing home bedroom. I remembered how my grandfather did, and still does, adore her and how he’s never been the same since her death. He just wants to join her.

Yesterday, as I went to vote in California’s special election, I saw many grandmothers and felt an ache.

My polling place was a senior center and I arrived at lunchtime. The dining hall was packed with what seemed to be, mostly, women. I felt myself staring. Wondering what my grandmothers would be like now. What sort of relationship we would have. If they would be proud of me.

I also wondered why there seemed to be so few visitors. Maybe I was imagining things. For several seconds I pondered just wandering into the dining hall and striking up a conversation. And then was afraid they would find me patronizing. Or worse, over-enthusiastic.

So I walked by. Slowly. My mind consumed with my own family, my grandfather in Michigan now in a nursing home. I thought about what it will be like when I am that age…where will I be?

But really, more than anything, I couldn’t stop thinking about my own grandmothers. And the grandmothers in the dining hall. And how I hope their granddaughter’s visit them.

Even if they are too busy. Even if they have a million other things to be doing. I hope there is a granddaughter sitting, right now, across from her grandmother in some dining hall somewhere….just spending time.

Ugh. Family Travel

As I get ready to head with the kids to Detroit once school is out…am feeling this one

Abortion and the Call For Common Ground: Can We Do It?

It’s hard to put down the hate.

I really do hate you for trying to control my body. It’s true. I won’t lie.

We can talk circles around when life begins, who has “rights” and your beliefs over mine all day and get nowhere. You think I’m immoral and I think you’re naive. You call me a murderer and I call you ignorant of science.

That is never going away, and I accept it. You’re not changing my mind. I’m not changing yours, and I accept it.

Kinda.

Well, enough to try and look past it a bit.

This weekend President Obama and Notre Dame’s president Father Jenkins asked us to try and look past all this hate. They asked us, in no uncertain terms, to attempt dialogue.

Tough. I know. Believe me.

Today I attempted that dialogue on CNN.com with a panel of bloggers and by the end was ready to start yelling and screaming all over again at the conservatives and so-called “pro-lifers” on the panel. (refraining here from calling you anti-choice because you call me anti-life…but…bygones…)

This is probably the most thorn-ridden olive branch ever extended in the history of the world.

This is going to be hard..but if we both TRULY believe in our side of the debate we NEED to talk and see what we can accomplish.

I think there is easily room for common ground on adoption. The red-tape. The difficulties of the system here in the US.

I think there is room, maybe not as easily, for common ground on preventing the number and the need for abortions in the US. That means comprehensive sex education. It works, let’s talk about it.

I also think there is room for common ground on learning to just plain live with one another. You don’t have to like me and I don’t have to like you. We can argue until we are blue in the face but when all is said and done you still live next door. Our kids still go to school together and we may actually agree on many other issues.

We’ve gotten so mired down in this fight that we can’t even seem to agree if the President should be addressing a Catholic University like Notre Dame, because of the abortion issue. That in and of itself is sad.

As someone raised Catholic and still deeply conflicted over her faith, watching Notre Dame applaud the President actually gave me hope that we all really can live together. That the “other side” may not be so evil and that there is a shred of possibility we can co-exist without the constant war.

Notre Dame grad Lisa writes,

“As an institution of higher education if Notre Dame was to shield its students from the political debates of our time because they disagree with the church than in my opinion the university wouldn’t be doing its job to educate future members of society. If the clout of the university is such that the President will speak to its graduates as they head off into uncertain times, then I applaud them. Learning to find common ground in life, in jobs, in careers is essential. I am proud that Obama spoke at Notre Dame and that at least the majority of the university community welcomed him.”

Kim at LA Moms Blog, also an ND grad, says,

“…I do understand the protests. When you believe in something so wholeheartedly, it pisses you off when your idol – in this case The University of Notre Dame itself – seems to demonstrate a huge departure from your morals. On the other hand, I believe in respect. I have written that Barack Obama is not Jesus; well, he’s not Saddam Hussein either. He is the President of our country, a historical figure, the man in whom we’ve put our faith to lead us out of an ever-growing pit of despair. Whether or not he leads us out or just makes it worse, he deserves a little respect. Who better than our nation’s leader to provoke the minds of a few thousand young men and women who will be called upon to make change in our country, in the world?”

So you have to wonder, if we can’t even agree on the President’s appearance at Notre Dame, let alone his call for common ground discussion…how can we possibly move forward?

I’ll tell you how and it’s easier than you’d think…civility.

Civility takes work. Believe me, I know. Just writing this was an act in civility for me…someone who would rather tell you to #suckit and to get your laws off my uterus. It’s really easy to sink like that when the other side tweets “Obama at Notre Dame: Hey, let’s be open-minded about child murder.”

With that, let’s face it- I don’t want to do this just as much as you don’t want to do this. But if we truly care about our rights, about this country and about life (don’t faint, pro-choicers actually DO care about life) we need to heed the President’s call for common ground.

My heels have been dug in for so very long that I never expect them to budge on Roe or the rights surrounding this issue. But I can find ways to work with you.

I will leave my heel dug in, but pull a toe up from the mud if you will do the same. And if we truly can not find any common ground I will attempt to be respectful of your beliefs, while I fight them.

It can be done.

So what do you say? Care to meet me up here on this high road that our President has built? Or will you stay in your trench and continue to toss grenades?

BlogHer is non-partisan but our bloggers aren’t! Check out more coverage at News & Politics. Contributing Editor Erin Kotecki Vest also blogs at Queen of Spain blog.

I totally would not want to meet these two in a dark alley

TeeHee HEEEEEE

Blogging About Teens