Early Morning Catechism

Yesterday morning Harrison wore a glow-in-the-dark rosary and carried around a chopstick (substituting for a ruler) and a black sunglasses case (substituting for a bible). He sat me down, opened the sunglasses case, and gave me a lesson on being good.

He did this because the day before I brought home a Nunzilla from the Late Night Catechism performance I took my mom to.

Nunzilla shoots sparks out of her mouth as she wobbles along. I explained to H why she held a ruler and a bible, though I didn't want to go into what a bible was, so I simply said it was a book with lessons about being good (that's not totally wrong, is it?)

I also didn't explain the crucifix on his rosary (from my mom), but when he noticed there was a man on it, I said the man was the goodest man who ever was and this was a celebration of his goodness. I'm trying here.

Late Night Catechism was held at ACT in a side room on a tiny stage surrounded by thirty chairs. The stage was set to resemble the front of a classroom where catechism classes take place. Holy posters, art, little statues and catholic tchotchkes galore. With only thirty seats, there was no hiding, but at least I chose the 2nd row instead of the 1st.

I should have heeded my mother's advice and crammed my dusty Catholicism for Dummies before seeing the show. Not that I would have enjoyed it more - I laughed as hard or harder than most people in the audience - but I might have been less terrified of the Sister calling on me. My practice of Catholicism started and ended with my baptism at age two, and the only thing that stuck was the guilt.

The sister called on about six people in the audience, all of whom went to at least eight years of catholic school. She wasn't shy about teasing them or proving their answers wrong. Thankfully, she never called on me.

But I did learn a few things. For instance, the Immaculate Conception was not Mary being miraculously impregnated by God (as I thought), but Mary herself being conceived without the stain of original sin. You're welcome for that bit of cocktail trivia.

My mom, who grew up catholic, had a great time. She's even more easily amused than I am, and gets out even less often, so it was a pleasure to treat her to the show. But the best part was that my souvenir made Harrison want to be a nun. It was only for an hour, but I'll take it.

Beneath the Scar

It is about an inch long. The color is burgundy with hints of purple near the middle. It makes a dent in the right side of her forehead, about halfway between her eyebrow and hairline. When she raises her brow, the dent deepens, protruding the surrounding flesh.

To a stranger, a scar may simply spark curiosity. But to a mother, her child's scar holds complicated meaning. There is the painful memory, the current care and the future heartache.

Will it fade? Will the dent grow shallower? Will it bother her? Will she be embarrassed? How many minutes will it take for someone to see beyond the scar?

Years ago when I was having dinner with family in France, the patriarch of my cousin's big, boisterous family looked at my face and said in front of everyone, "She's not bad for being disfigured."

Only the French can be so outright, n'est pas? After my initial humiliation, his public comment actually made me feel good because my scars were acknowledged, then dismissed as insignificant. Something I was never able to do myself.

On the drive home from the ER the night of G's fall, before all the complications happened, Robin tried to ease my concerns. I was worried about her scarring because I had struggled for 30 years with my own and it distressed me that my daughter would have to go through similar anguish.

He said if anything, we would have this connection, this bond, that only the two of us would understand. I could tell her how it could strengthen her self-esteem instead of weaken it. How it could set her apart and help her grow into a unique individual. How it would motivate her to try harder at just about everything.

This was not the sort of bonding I would have chosen. While his comments about our mother-daughter commonality didn't make me feel better, it did make me think about my own scars and in a way helped me come to terms with them.

I think it's like when you have kids, You as a separate being no longer matter. Your kids are more important than you will ever be again. So the same might be said for anything that happens to them. It will overpower and render your own issues inconsequential.

As I look at her now, the scar provides a contrast that forces me to wholly appreciate the rest of her. I see her incredible beauty. The little sparkles in her blue eyes. The gilded curls circling her face. Her riotous expressions. Her epidemically infectious smile. And under it all, I see the emergence of a beaming personality, clever and charming and generous.

Isn't what's underneath infinitely more interesting and wonderful anyway? Perhaps this would serve well as a reminder to teach that lesson. Even if the scar fades, hopefully the lesson will last. For the both of us.

Things that made me smile today

10. Getting carded at the grocery store.

9. The movie marquee in a scene from The Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland:
Sharon Groan in
Basically it Stinks.

8. The large soft sign covering a new building going up in University Village. It reads: H & M.

7. A best-of Go-Go's music montage this morning on the radio. That was my minivan you heard thumping.

6. Reading about this incredible dinner. You wouldn't believe it if there weren't pictures as proof.

5. Moist roast duck (my first homemade attempt), creamed garlicky spinach, and fingerling potatoes baked under a drizzle of olive oil and coarse sea salt.

4. Arranging a cheerful bunch of sunflowers in a vase on the dining room table.

3. Discussing Rome with Robin. And watching Titus Pullo.

2. G eating around a strawberry, then giving me the white part inside and saying, "Here's the bone."

1. Watching G & H squeal in their glorious happiness.

Don't Gimme Some Sugah

I don't have a very strong sweet tooth, which is lucky for me because if I ingest more than a minimal amount of sugar, I turn into a fretful bitch. However, I do like me some refined carbs (a few bites of a Zoka scone or homemade apricot-almond cookie) with my post-lunch coffee, and it's gotten to be a habit with a noticeable increase in cravings. So it was useful to come upon an article to remind me that my sugar sensitivity is not imagined and I should take care.

The article is about stress and hormones in perimenopause. The interview in it is with Dr. Christiane Northrup, who's book, Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom, I bought years ago, but only read parts of. I thought she made sense in that book, so I read the article respectfully.

While the article focuses on menopause symptoms, women of any age know how powerful hormones can be. They can make you rage, bawl and want to have sex with all the stockboys at Safeway.

Two excerpts from Northup's tips on reducing stress during perimenopause especially stood out to me:

1. "Exercise burns up stress hormones."
It's old news that exercise reduces stress, and that an hour of exercise has a similar effect to taking antidepressents, but I hadn't heard it put in a way directly related to hormones.

2. "Excess blood sugar (insulin) turns into stress hormones."
Again, I hadn't heard the correlation between sugar and stress in quite so direct a way.

You can read the rest of the tips and article here.

Anyway, for anyone needing more reasons to reduce refined carbs in their diet, less stress seems like a good one. I might try to have soft cheese instead of a cookie once in a while. Might need more motivation to give up the scones though.

Change

On the evening of our beautiful warm day last weekend, I leaned on the kitchen counter in front of the wide open screenless window and let the California breeze wash over my bare shoulders. It was an extraordinary sensation that felt like change was coming.

The week following G's accident was excruciating. We spent every day at another doctor's visit to receive bad news. Internal and external stitches. Endless fever. Severe swelling. Infection. Drainage. Antibiotic shots. At some point I got tired of crying.

I hesitate to say she's totally fine for fear that some hard edge will hear my confidence and attack at the first opportunity. So I'm ever humble, watchful and careful. I no longer start blacking out at the sight of it, which is good I suppose.

So, change.

The coffee table was removed immediately and replaced with an ottoman hybrid. Edge padding was installed where needed in the house.

We decided that the bunk bed and room-sharing we planned for the kids were never going to happen, so we didn't waste time setting G up with her own big-girl furniture. I was desperate to do something for her. We said it was princess furniture. It made her happy.

I care a little less about some things now. I can't pinpoint exactly what they are, but I think it has to do with petty insecurities, wimpy indecision and keeping up with things in general.

I considered stopping blogging altogether. I didn't have much choice over the past two weeks, and I don't see finding much more opportunity soon. Maybe it's sharing too much, but these little entries give me remarkable satisfaction because they are lifelines to the outside world. A little sad, but there it is. I'd like to continue, but probably not as often.

Maybe this need for change will subside in proportion to the healing. I don't know, but I hope not, out of respect for the scar.

Thanks to all who offered support and kind words. Much appreciated.

Quiet Time

I'm taking a break from blogging, thinking and anything else for a while, at least until G's stitches are out.

Yesterday's 911 call and trip to the emergency room were traumatic. The worst moments of my life.

G is recovering now from the laceration in her forehead. I'm useless but to care for her. Coffee tables are evil, evil abominations.

Thank you to the incredibly fast and kind paramedics. Thank you to the incredibly careful and experienced doctors. Thank you to the incredibly calm and calming husband. Thank you to the incredibly sweet and cooperative big brother. Thank you to the incredibly resilient and tough little girl. You are my life.

Delicious Dita

I took home the New York Times Magazine insert that was in the newspaper at the hotel and meant to read the cover article, A Case of the Blues, about the Republican party.

Instead I read most of the article on the Harvard chastity club and ate up all of the interview with Dita Von Teese, whom I'd only heard of a couple times in reference to being married to Marilyn Manson.

After writing A Responsible Plan I needed some reading dessert with pretty pictures. Her interview was just the ticket and now I have a little crush on her persona.

Von Teese is a Burlesque dancer and all-around vintage sexpot. She collects "vintage hair combs; vintage clothes; vintage lingerie; hats; jewelry; cigarette holders." Her home is luscious and I covet its decor.

What she appreciates says everything about her taste:

"Treasured eras: For taxidermy, Victorian; for furniture, Art Deco; for lingerie, 1940s stockings and Victorian corsets; hats I like mid-1940s, when they wore the little tilted hats, like men’s hats."

Reading about this woman made me remember a part of me that has shrunken (probably for the better) over the years. The part that whiled away time aspiring to be someone from an era and place that I didn't honestly or soberly want to live in.

While I would still love some rooms as sumptuous as hers, these days it's just fun to read about a person living a fantasy and savor the details, like eating a piece of moist strawberry white chocolate cake.

One Ecohabit at a Time

I felt a little warm and fuzzy reading the news this morning about Mayor Greg Nickels proposal for a 20-cent "green fee" on all disposable bags in Seattle. I'd heard about this fee working elsewhere, so I'm pleased he's moving ahead with it. I emailed him to say it's a good and necessary thing and I think the reality is that most people need incentives to become greener.

As a parent I deal in lots of garbage: packaging, wrappers, diapers, craft projects, cheap toys. I'm usually so frazzled that I'll take shortcuts to make things easier: paper towels and napkins, disposable diapers, disposable cleaning wipes, throwing toy trinkets away. I feel guilty about it, yet not enough to change. Anytime there's outside incentive to waste less, it helps.

I've given up buying disposable bottled water. Diapers are on their way out (hallelujah). I bring my own grocery bags when I remember, and those I do acquire, I use as garbage bags. I've vowed never to buy paper plates or plastic utensils for future BBQs or home parties (still need to find cool, quality melamine plates). And I freely make suggestions to make up for my own family's waste.

But I almost feel silly saying that I try because I'm nowhere near adequate. I'm not giving up antibacterial hand wipes until the kids are in college, I'm addicted to Ziplocs, and I go through an embarrassing number of to-go coffee cups every month. Also, hello minivan that I love.

Good habits are hard to build and with as busy as everyone's life is, I just don't think many people can master ecohabits without real incentives, positive or negative, and without messages at least as ubiquitous as the most annoying marketing campaigns. Am I speaking for myself?

In any case, I'm kinda proud that we have a mayor so devoted to green initiatives, even if I'm not yet living up to his example.

A Responsible Plan

On Monday Arianna Huffington posted about a plan for ending the war in Iraq. Since I haven't read much spelling out how this could be done, I thought it was useful info.

She starts her post by referencing a Gallup poll that has McCain ahead of both Obama and Clinton in dealing with the war. She says his message of winning the war is simpler than the Democrats' not-so-clear message of ending the war.

A Responsible Plan to End the War in Iraq, developed by Darcy Burner (who's running for Congress in Washington state) lays out how it can be done. Both Obama and Clinton have their own plans, but I haven't done any comparing and contrasting.

Here's a paragraph summary from the report:

“What follows is a series of objectives that, taken together, refocus our current military involvement in the region while repairing damage to the U.S. to prevent a repeat of our mistakes. We have included some sample legislation currently in Congress to show that these objectives have been identified and can be addressed given sufficient political will. We have also included recommendations that the Baker-Hamilton Commission published in the Iraq Study Group Report. In some cases, no existing legislation or clear recommendations exist and new authorizing legislation plus careful planning would be required.”

The summary for A Responsible Plan to End the War, as well as a link to the full plan, is here. The full plan is only about 20 pages, plus an appendix of bills, and is neatly organized. A few tidbits I didn't know or think about:

"Whether we like it or not, Iraq’s neighbors will continue to intervene because they have serious national interests at stake: they have to deal with the refugees, violence, crime, economic shocks and all the other consequences of Iraq’s instability. All of the neighbors have an interest in maintaining stability but they also fear other neighbors gaining advantage. To achieve this goal they have looked for proxies who will carry out their agenda – which makes the situation worse by strengthening various warring parties and creating greater potential for broader regional conflict."

"Many military leaders have spoken out about the need to do far more with diplomatic and economic power to improve the situation in Iraq. Our post-invasion strategies in Iraq have been pursued primarily on military terms, and the diplomatic efforts have not resulted in any substantial progress. Billions of dollars have been wasted on failed reconstruction projects which have been left incomplete or unusable due to incompetence or corruption on the part of the chosen contractors. There has been no serious attempt to revive the Iraqi economy by providing employment and carefully directed economic stimulus. "

"Iraq, prior to the invasion, was one of the more egalitarian societies in the Middle East with respect to women. Over the last five years, however, their status has become increasingly threatened. In order to renew Iraqi civil society, the lives of Iraqi women must be improved and their basic rights protected in Iraqi society."

“The U.S. Constitution is very clear about the process by which legislation is passed: the House and the Senate must each pass the legislation and it must then be signed by the President. The President has no power to make law unilaterally. Our current president, however, has made unprecedented use of “signing statements”_8 in which he attempts to substantially alter the meaning of laws and their interpretation by the courts. These signing statements are a dangerous device that undermines Congress’ constitutional powers and ability to act as a check on the executive.”

Not the most exciting blog material, but I thought it was relevant and useful.

(P.S. I feel the need to apologize for my boring political posts. They're a little selfish. I write about this stuff because it forces me to read and learn things I'd normally just be lazy about and ignore.)