#suckit

We Blend, Trayvon Did Not

July 14, 2013 by Queen of Spain 8 Comments

My Dad walked into the living room and said “Not guilty.”

I inhaled.

He didn’t have to say anymore. I knew what he was talking about, I knew what he meant. My head swirled.

My 10-year old instinctively clung to my left arm. Began petting me. He didn’t understand. He asked question after question.

But how could he just shoot him and not go to jail? How is that ok? Why would he be not guilty? He shot him. You can’t shoot people, right?

I had shielded as much of the Trayvon Martin case as I could from the kids, but my son enjoys watching the news with me and truly enjoys discussing the news with me. So many mornings are spent with the two of us talking over current events. I keep things as age appropriate as possible. With Trayvon it was hard from day one. This was a teenager gunned down for doing nothing more than walking home, being stalked by the local neighborhood watch guy, and when Trayvon confronted George Zimmerman, a fight ensued and Zimmerman shot and killed the teen.

Now Zimmerman walks free and all over my twitter feed under certain hashtags like #tcot and others, people were celebrating. On my Facebook page there were exclamations of ‘What a great day for America!’ and so on.

While my son shook with anger and tears rolled down his face. While my daughter did her best to play her game and not pay attention, yet clearly was listening and upset. While I struggled to come up with the words to tell them justice would prevail…silence permeatited throughout our home.

Silence.

Because there were no words.

There was nothing I could say that would make sense or make this right.

The verdict went against everything we had taught them about our judicial system and it went against everything we taught them about how justice was supposed to be served in the end.

My husband talked about how sometimes, justice does not win. We all did our best to explain away the unexplainable.

But the kids clearly did not understand. Hell, the adults didn’t understand.

Later on in the evening my son asked me how we could make it better. My sweet, sweet baby boy wanted to know what he could do to change the verdict, racism, and the world- and he was very serious.

Again, I had no answer for him. My only answer was that he continue to be a great person. And that hopefully, it would be contagious.

This wasn’t good enough for him.

So I told him about a petition to get the Justice Department to open a civil rights case against George Zimmerman to try, once again, to put him behind bars.

He was unimpressed. And I have to say, while I think the petition and case could be worthwhile…Zimmerman walks free while Trayvon is dead. I see no justice there and I see no reason to get excited over the possibility of another trial.

Something my son said keeps repeating over and over in my mind as I think about the verdict:

Mom, what if I walked to go get Hala some candy and you always drink tea…what if I went to get you tea…and that happened to me? But it wouldn’t though, would it? They think I blend in here, don’t they? They don’t understand I’m not on their side…they don’t understand we’re on the kids like Trayvon’s side. That means I can sneak into their talks and find out what is going on and then I can tell everyone and everyone will be safe. They will never know because I blend in. They will think I am one of them, but really I am like a ninja and I will bring all the information back to everyone like Trayvon and US and everyone will be SAFE forever!

I love my son’s big heart more than I can say. In his 10-year old imagination that’s all it takes. Him acting like a superhero of sorts to come save the day for all. Or at the very least, him acting like a super, secret, spy-ninja who can get rid of racism and the bad guys all in one night.

How I wish this were one of those times his imagination’s amazing ideas worked. And it were all just that simple.

That a 10-year old boy’s dreams and ideas could come true and some of this pain and confusion could be erased with good and innocence.

If nothing else, may the world know if there must be sides to take, my son has signed us up to be on Trayvon’s and people ‘like’ Trayvon’s. That means those of color and those who do not ‘blend’ in ‘our’ neighborhood.

Jack has decided we don’t blend. And I’m glad. I don’t want to blend if it means we are anything like the Zimmermans of the world. We’ll happily be just like Trayvon in spirit.

Forever.

Filed Under: #suckit, Count Waffles, Feeling YaYa, Stepford Crazies

Trouble, Trouble, Trouble… oh Yes TROUBLE

June 6, 2013 by Queen of Spain Leave a Comment

We hit a bit of a milestone today.

I had a car filled with 8-year old girls singing their hearts out to Taylor Swift, with my daughter leading the pack.

I couldn’t exactly catch the ear piercing chorus, but this will give you an idea:

…and she couldn’t have been happier.

Giggles, singing about boys being Trouble, begging me to stay in the car just a few more minutes after we had parked because the new Selena Gomez song had come on and ‘Mom, we just have to sing this one too…’

…and I pretended to look at my phone all while grinning and crying on the inside at my baby girl growing up right before my eyes. Unafraid to share her fun in front of her Mom and even thanking me later for being so ‘cool.’

Is this really happening? Is she really old enough to be signing with her friends at the top of her lungs about boys?

…and to top it off as we picked up her older brother at his classroom door he clearly had an admirer there walking him out.

This cool mom isn’t ready for any of this.

Trouble indeed.

Filed Under: #suckit, Count Waffles, kill me now, Princess Peanut, Stepford Crazies

Lupus Awareness Month. You Want a KickOff Post? You Got One

May 5, 2013 by Queen of Spain 4 Comments

It hits me at the oddest times. Not ever when there is an IV in my arm or when I’m talking to a therapist…but like, just now…when I see the photo of a beautiful newborn.

And this heaviness crushes my chest and my heart begins to pound a bit faster and I feel that ache.

That ache for all those things I wanted yesterday (read: NOW) that I must wait for. For all those things I will never have. For all those things that must change because life has dealt me a hand I’m not sure how to play.

I dream about secretly saving money to take the family away on a surprise cruise. And realize I have to schedule it around treatment and make sure it’s well after that one drug I get because that drug means I catch every germ on earth and I can’t be out in public and I have to make sure … you get the idea. And my dream fades.

I dream about going back to work after having an inspiration for a project as I finished reading up on some social media political ideas and begin to plan how to approach my boss and exactly who I would want on my team. And then I remember I need to be stable between treatments for a good length of time and stop getting all these infections and setbacks, even if they are small. I remember I’ll need to ramp up to balancing work and health and life while I currently have enough trouble just balancing health and life. And my dream fades.

I dream about my honeymoon over and over.

I dream about nights out with girlfriends where we dance and I need to take a cab home.

I dream about meeting my husband for dinner with friends across town. Or by the beach. Or with his co-workers. Such simple things he does all the time with many people.

I dream about running in the park with my children, laughing. I dream about volunteering in their classes.

And then I remember I shouldn’t be out in the sun long, due to the medication. I remember I can’t run, really. I remember the germs in the classes could land me hospitalized.

The ache returns. Harder. Stronger.

I want it so bad. I have been working so hard. I take my pills, I sit with that damn IV in my arm as they infuse whatever they infuse into me day after day, week after week, month after month. I try yoga. I try the diet that is supposed to help with the steroid weight gain. I barely eat now but I’m still a prednisone oompa loompa. I have done everything the doctor’s say and yes, I’m getting better but at what cost? I know there is light at the end of this tunnel, or so they tell me…but I still can’t see it because despite FEELING better there is too much still missing.

On the days I feel good I do all I can- I have gone back to school (online only as I can’t sit in a classroom yet), I drive carpool, I make dinner and breakfast and lunches and I do the best I can with housekeeping. I’ve been trying different things, doctor approved, to help my body and mind from horseback riding with my daughter to gentle yoga to just walking the dog.

I feel like I am trying so hard some days I’m creating stress by being so very determined. Mostly because I can’t stand to feel that ache. I don’t want to feel that ache. I want that ache to go the hell away and understand there is now a new normal around and this is just how it is going to be.

Only better. Because it will keep getting better. I have come this far and I will keep going. It’s slow. It’s painfully slow. But it is happening come hell or high water because it will get better than this. THIS is the new normal for now and it will continue to morph until I am happy with my life.

Yes, I have much for which to be grateful. And believe me, every single day I celebrate. Every. Single. Day. I am happy and laughing when I open a jar without pain. I have cried when I climbed the flight of stairs to our bedroom to realize I wasn’t out of breath. I’m patting myself on the back for every ‘A’ I get in class and for every treatment week I make it through without sleeping the entire time.

All I want is someone to hold my hand and tell me this is going to pay off.

This is life with Lupus.

Learn more about Lupus at Lupus.org

Filed Under: #suckit, #SUCKITLupus, Auto-Immune Menu

We Will Stand There

April 16, 2013 by Queen of Spain 3 Comments

I have an eight-year old. I have an eight-year old and a 10-year old and we always stand at the finish line well before it’s time.

Their Dad runs. And we stand there with signs and smiles and we watch with anticipation searching the sea of runners waiting for him to cross the finish line.

We’ve played this scenario out over and over again at that finish line. Sometimes right at the line. Sometimes a block before. Sometimes just after the runners cross. But we are always there.

Just like all those families were there. Just like eight-year old Martin Richard and his six-year old sister, his other sibling and their Mom. We stand there. Just like they did. We have done it so many times…because no matter how sweaty our loving runners are, we are so proud and we want that hug so bad.

As the stories pour in about so many families and so many runners and so much hurt and pain all I can do is promise that when my husband’s body is ready again we will stand there at that finish line again.

We will stand there with our signs and our smiles.

We will stand there because we are proud of our runner, but also because we will remember.

Every time we ever stand there ever again, we will always remember.

Filed Under: #suckit, Feeling YaYa, Kaiser, Royal Family Outing, Stepford Crazies

Celebrate the Joy in life NOW…RIGHT NOW

April 2, 2013 by Queen of Spain 4 Comments

Update:

For those who are not aware yet, Dawn passed away yesterday almost as I was writing this. We wish strength and love to her husband Mike and her boys.

Our family doesn’t get it sometimes. Aaron and I can sit next to each other on the couch and tweet back and forth, giggling. We laugh with friends and they tweet back…it’s a community.

Dawn and Mike have always been around for those late night and middle of the day giggle sessions. They were the Ethel and Fred to our Ricky and Lucy. Or vice versa.

Dawn and I even got sick together. We even started to get better together. Then, not long ago, there was news Mike was taking Dawn to the ER. The next thing we hear there is a surgery and tumors and bleeding and the words inoperable and hospice.

I, of course, had been lost in my world of treatments and swollen ankles and worrying about things that didn’t matter. So when I caught the news it came second-hand and it very literally sucked the breath right out of me.

No. No. These are our buddies. These are the people we joke around with online and knew we’d hang out with on our next trip to Michigan- just as soon as my Doctor said I could travel. No. No. This is not happening.

Aaron and Mike understand what it’s like to be caregivers to women they love. The kids, the jobs, the meals the worry. My god the endless worry. Dawn and I could bitch about pills and surgeries and pain and being stuck in a hospital bed or on a couch. Wanting nothing more than to take the worry away from our Aaron and Mike and, most of all, our kids.

I refuse to give up hope that doctors can find a way to help Dawn. We still have trip to Michigan to make where we all have to go a Tiger’s game and eat Coney Dogs after. Our kids needs to hang out.

But most of all, Dawn and I need some girly couch time. Where we may have to rest, but we’ll rest together.

Mike is asking donations be given to Melanoma Research Foundation so smart people can continue to try to find a way to fight this asshole cancer. There is also another donation drive where the funds are going to help the family with meals, expenses.

I hope beyond hope for a miracle. And in the meantime, follow Dawn’s advice and check your skin. CHECK YOUR SKIN.

Filed Under: #suckit, #SUCKITLupus, Auto-Immune Menu, Feeling YaYa, Kaiser, Stepford Crazies

For Better or Worse

March 25, 2013 by Queen of Spain 4 Comments

This is the week my husband and I celebrate bringing unconditional love into our lives forever. Love that no one can describe to you, that no one can begin to try to get you to grasp no matter how hard they try. Our children celebrate their birthdays. Two years and six days apart. One a decade old. The other, eight.

The rest of the country will be watching the United States’ Supreme Court hear arguments on another type of love. A love that can be legalized with the institution of marriage. Something else many find hard to put into words. Many find beyond difficult to explain the overwhelming joy it makes them feel.

My husband and I were married and had our two children. In my mind, we became a family when we declared our love for one another in front of our friends and family and even before that when we became domestic partners in the eyes of the law in order to make sure we could take care of each other in sickness and in health and in any legal matters. This happened BEFORE we were legally married.

Some would say, “…isn’t that enough?”

NO. It’s NOT enough.

Just because we were domestic partners does not mean that we were protected had we left California’s borders and it certainly did not protect us in the rest of the US and it’s territories. To this day, there is no one else I want making decisions for me should I become unable, than my husband. It does not matter why…it’s who I CHOOSE. I CHOOSE him. We are adults and adults should be able to make sure the person they want is allowed in the hospital room with them when they want, makes important legal and medical decisions, and inherits any and all and everything I find necessary-from property to personal items. And if I do not happen to write it down in time, it should be common sense this is the person who is in charge of all these things and GETS all these things. Oh, and by the way, this person also gets full custody of OUR children. The ones born of love.

The ones born into a family made of love.

In a “marriage” that did not include God or a preacher.

It also was not guaranteed to create chidden.

I now have no uterus or ovaries. If you were to ask my husband before hand, there would be no promise this “marriage” would produce children. Apparently my body agreed.

As you can see, I’m knocking down all the reasons many say you must “save traditional marriage” left and right with our family.

We did not have a traditional wedding. We did not have a traditional wedding ceremony. We do not have a traditional marriage, unless you consider “traditional” one that means we love each other and wish to spend the rest of our lives together.

As the country, once again, consumes itself with what “marriage” means in this day and age I only ask that you consider one question: What does family mean?

Our family started in a way many would consider illegal and immoral. Yet here we are, with two beautiful children celebrating birthdays and we’ve stood by each other through every vow repeated to one another long ago.

That’s more than I can say for millions of Americans claiming to be truly “married” while shunning my husband and I, while saying things like “why can’t they just have a civil union and not be married like us” and while trying to convince the country separate can be equal. In fact, I think I’ve heard that before…didn’t turn out too well then either.

Filed Under: #suckit, Count Waffles, Feeling YaYa, Holding Court, Kaiser, Princess Peanut, Stepford Crazies

“Lean In”…a little closer…a little closer…

March 13, 2013 by Queen of Spain 10 Comments

…SMACK!

I’m done with this ‘conversation.’ Because it’s not a true conversation. In order to have one of those, it has to go both ways. Not me being told what to do by women who have more opportunity and privilege coming out of their ears than I’ve had my entire life.

And I’m pretty damn privileged.

All women behave differently in their careers. Some are the quiet types that get things done behind the scenes. Some are the loud, brassy, take-control types that get in there and kick ass and kick it hard. Some women sit at the board room table arms folded and others take notes. Some sit at the head of the table and tell others what to do.

Some of these women have families. They may have waited until later in life, they may have had children young, they may be in the midst of having children in the middle of their careers.

Now lean in one more time so I can tell you a little secret…closer…closer…!SMACK!

Some women DO NOT HAVE A CHOICE IN ANY OF THIS.

They work because they MUST. They rely on daycare or family and friends to watch after their kids because it is the only option they can afford.

Their choices are not like my choices. They are certainly not like Sheryl Sandberg’s or Marissa Mayer. And when they MAKE those choices, if there is a choice to be made, they are scrutinized up, down, left, right sideways….you get the idea.

When is the last time a man was scrutinized for his decision to put career first? The last time a man put his family first I believed the words ‘forward thinking,’ ‘courageous,’ and ‘whatta guy’ were heard. Figures, right?

I think those men should lean in as well. Closer…a bit closer…just a little bit closer…!SMACK!

I’ve had it. You’d think anytime a man decided to actual parent he should get a medal. While anytime a woman decided to start a company and lean in to make sure her employees do what is best for the company while she misses a volunteer opp at the PTA she has committed a felony.

The bottom line is we can lean in, we can lean out and we will still lose. We can fight for flex work hours for PARENTS (not MOTHERS…PARENTS) and remote offices and all the things that make it easier to be a working parent in this country and yet there will STILL be arguments. Some will agree, some won’t. Some will lean in and some will lean out.

We’re all different. We all have different goals and different ways of working. Some of us want children, some of us don’t. Some of us want to run the company, some of us are content to get our paycheck and live a less demanding life.

So spare me your lean in bullshit. This has nothing to do with leaning in or where you work or if you parent like a PTA Boss or a drop-in nanny. What matters is YOU have the CHOICE. So many do not. So many have zero choices. They scrape by every day just trying to make enough money and just trying to spend enough time with their kids.

Let’s not worry so much about leaning in, I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the judging on who has leaned in, who should have leaned in, and who should have chosen to lean in and didn’t…that’s enough. ENOUGH. Because most do NOT HAVE THE CHOICE to lean in. They aren’t even at the table. So screw leaning in, let’s worry more about helping out, putting women in positions to make those choices and then standing by them, NOT judging them, when they do.

Filed Under: #suckit, Feeling YaYa, Stepford Crazies

My Knee-Jerk, Mom Reaction to Today’s Events

December 14, 2012 by Queen of Spain 5 Comments

My son and his friend are running around my house ‘shooting’ each other with Nerf guns right now. They are diving on the floor, collecting bullets, telling the other “YOU ARE DEAD DUDE” and generally being nine-year olds.

I want to make them stop. I want to freak out and take away their toy guns and stop their game and tell them they are DONE.

There will be no more fake gun fights in this house. I no longer want to raise a son that glorifies the gun culture. And as a parent I take full responsibility for allowing him to go down that rabbit hole. The toy guns. The endless video games with nothing but war play. Things we find totally normal.

Normal.

I realize in his mind it’s make-believe. In his mind he KNOWS the difference. But today I just can not take the fake vs. real when a friend’s nephew was in that kindergarten class in Connecticut. When so many parents tonight grieve. When the unthinkable CONTINUES to happen again and again in our country.

It begins at home as the culture of guns and violence is forever put in front of their young faces. Even responsibly they are desensitized to the bloodshed. And yes, kids have been doing this forever. If not Nerf guns they would be making guns from sticks or out of their hands. But would they be doing it as much? Would it be as vivid? As real? As daily? As routine?

I just don’t know. I just know I can only control what happens in my own home. I can not control what happens in my child’s school not matter how involved I may be. Or if they are at a friend’s house no matter how well I think I know the parents.

I have to teach my children just how dangerous this world can be, without stealing their childhood…their innocence. Without taking away the very thing youth should be about: discovery and joy and laughter and play.

I watched the President cry. I felt the pain in my friend’s words from across the miles. And I agreed with the Governor when he said evil came to their community.

The problem being…I see no end to the tears, or the pain, or the evil until we, as a nation, face this culture we have created and now celebrate. A culture of hate and violence. A culture of “I’ve got mine, who cares about yours.”

A culture of not being your brother’s keeper. All anyone wants to do is make sure they’ve got their weapon, their safety, and to hell with anyone else.

This is the last lesson I want to teach my children. Ever. Yet this is the lesson so many are teaching theirs’.

As others fight to make further cuts to services we need…like mental health services. And education-the ONE thing that could save us all.

So as I debate all the toy guns scattered about my home, and the violent video games we play…I ask you to think about where this conversation begins as a community. Where it starts as a nation. Where we really dig in and make some changes so no parent, no family, no children ever have to go through this again.

Because I don’t think any of us can take this anymore. Our hearts can only break so many times before healing becomes impossible.

Filed Under: #suckit, Feeling YaYa, Holding Court, Stepford Crazies