Lifes Magical Moments

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Kneeling

Published September 25, 2017 by sarcasmica

I don’t watch the news much. I feel like it has changed since 9/11 so much. Social media has really become a crutch for network television news outlets. My husband and I comment all the time that stories are often incomplete. The whole story is rarely given. I feel like they rely on the viewers to go further research and get specifics that used to be given by the newscaster. I’m not talking in-depth background, I’m talking “major catastrophe occured! Suspects are in question. the end.” Where was this? What time? Who was hurt?

It’s just flashy headlines, and little content. The other awful side effect is trying to be first. I still remember the Boston Marathon bombing and how there was nothing but speculative reporting, but it was Breaking News so they were literally on the air just tossing around theories and tweeted information and drawing their own conclusions.

I do, however, enjoy the bits of Good Morning America that I can hear over my own shouting at the kids to get ready for school, and the kids shouting at each other to stop hogging toilets and sinks and toothpaste. Lately the popular topic is the whole kneeling during the anthem thing Colin Kaepernick has begun.

For President Trump (cough sputter spit) to weigh in on this is just one more in a long line of ridiculous time-wasters he seems to excel at. “White Privilege” is a popular phrase these days. As a white person, it’s uncomfortable, but that’s because it’s true. Yes. I totally agree that this exists. It’s not a pride-inducing phrase. Maybe some people allow themselves to be “offended” by this and then just shut down and become defensive to whatever the issue being challenged is and then cannot hear what the debate is about.

I just wanted to throw my two cents out there and say I think Mr. Kaepernick is a very brave man. He knelt for something big. Something decades of marching, and protesting, and “trending” hasn’t solved. It’s forcing conversation to an ugly truth… another ugly truth about this country. I haven’t had a firm stance on ‘agree or disagree?’ with this kneeling thing, but I watch a show called United Shades of America with W. Kamau Bell. I find it fascinating. Recently he went to Chicago to interview residents and compare reality with what the media is broadcasting regarding the dire state of things there. I highly recommend the show, but especially this one if you find yourself undecided or against the NFL and the kneeling protests.

It is so easy to brush this off and say “It’s so un American! How dare they not stand for the flag and the anthem of this country!!”. If you do, you are in denial. You are the problem and that’s hard to take on. Naturally, you don’t want to be the problem, especially when you are not actively causing issue.

Have you considered why these protesters are kneeling? Are you willing to look at the reasons, and not just your own reaction to what you assume is unimportant?

How in touch are you with the way things are for inner city families? How much thought do you give to the lack of any funding for activities, music class, art, or even staffing at the schools millions of children get their start at? Not just educational start, but their introduction to a society. Elementary school is where children are handed over to grown ups who then become responsible for the welfare and well being of these children. Are these children treated with respect? Does the building have adequate space, heat, a/c, construction, plumbing? Do these kids see their value in the community in the programs offered for them?

These are pretty basic questions and expectations of government money doing it’s job.

If these families are not taken care of on a daily basis by their communities, how are they supposed to feel any pride in that community? How can they feel responsibility and ownership when the institutions that are supposed to take care of them fail? In this climate, do you think everyone in this country feels that law enforcement is on their side?

What if, Mr. Trump, instead of sending money to employ more police and tactical units to fund stop and frisk, you empower these communities by putting money into the schools and programs that set up an environment where kids can succeed and feel a sense of pride and community? Sports, arts, music, after school activities. Employ the community and staff the schools with qualified members of local society.

I wonder how a community who feels they are hated, feared, and unwanted is supposed to feel a sense of pride and appreciation for a flag and anthem that represent a nation that has left them behind? The professional human beings who are choosing to kneel at sporting events are not refusing the flag of our nation. They are banding together to announce to those with blinders on that the country we all love and take pride in does not see all men created equal and offer all opportunities to all peoples.

If “white privilege” is the most offensive phrase that has been thrown at you in your lifetime, it might be time to take a step back, put your own perspective aside, and consider looking at the reason for the protest.

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Circus Berzerkus

Published July 17, 2017 by sarcasmica

(a nod to Skippyjon Jones)

When I was little, my mom took me to the circus. It was Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey. The big top. The BIG Top. Tigers, Elephants, Horses, acrobats, tightrope walkers, etc etc etc. It was huge, loud, amazing, and even then I felt bad for the animals. How could a traveling circus be a great place for those wild, intelligent, dangerous, amazing animals?

Don’t get me wrong, I loved every minute. The vendors, the food, the action and excitement.

It was the only time I ever went. I’m thankful I had the experience since that company is no longer, but it’s a relief for future chained elephants.

This weekend a local town fair was in town. Included was a tiny little show called Venardo’s Circus. I looked at their FB Page – as any decent investigator would and followed that up with – say it with me now – Yelp reviews. It looked pretty promising. The prices were a little off putting, but I signed us up. They advertise it as an animal-free circus. My kids have never been to a circus, so I figured it would be a great starter-experience.

I am not willing to shell out Cirque du Soleil money for a six and eleven year old just yet … especially when I myself have only recently seen one show. (O in Vegas)

As I mentioned, this circus happens in tandem with the town fair. The last few fairs I have taken my kids to have been just the three of us. No hubby. He was conveniently out of town on business for them. He is not a fan of amusement. He is a fan of his own amusement, but not others’. He is allergic to crowds and lines. Piggy back that with spending money and we are talking anaphylactic shock.

To his credit, when I spring our weekend event on him he takes the news pretty well. We head out Sunday for some fun and excitement. My daughter has her wallet with her life savings in it ($16) because she is going to WIN. (a stuffy of any kind, but mostly the giant kind that don’t fit anywhere reasonable)

My son has already spent his life savings on game add ons and apps. I assure him we will hook him up with a couple of games, but his sister will have more opportunities. (We don’t do “even stevens” & fair in this house)

We arrive to the world’s tiniest fair. I mean small. Itty bitty. It’s perfect for my husband who is still working on physical therapy and full range of motion in his foot from his December surgery.  This gig is the perfect size for him. No reason to openly bitch and moan that walking is a worry. The crowd was non-existent.

First up on the agenda was “rides”. This is always a challenge because our son is not a fan of rides. He does not like anything fast, loud, high, or on a track. That left the fun houses. There were 2. One was a Halloween theme, so my daughter convinced herself it was too scary to walk in.

The happy Casper-esque ghosts and green smiling witch graffiti sprayed across the front of the structure was beyond her capacity. (eye roll)

I’m going to go all grouchy senior citizen here and just interject my disgust at how expensive a fair is these days. “Back in my day” tickets for rides were like $1. The good rides might cost 2 tickets. … maybe. Games were $1. Sure you had to spend around $5 before you won the rock hard lead-filled asbestos-covered stuffy filled with a million beads that would disintegrate a month later dumping beads all over the carpet, but that’s not the point!

Y’all. Do you know what this tiny town fair cost?

Every ride cost 1 ticket (Wow, only 1 ticket regardless of the ride?! That’s awesome!)

Every ticket cost $3.75

The games were between $3 and $5 per try. “But every kid is guaranteed a prize!”

What . the. f&%k ?!

Needless to say we experienced a bit of sticker shock. I am normally one for lots of fun and games and winning the cool stuffies for my kids. Not this day, readers. Not this day.

This was where things got dicey, though. I suffered through wedging my fat thighs and gut into a carnie ride with my daughter because no one else would go with her. Having no shame or pride, I decided to focus on the fun and not the stereotypical look of being the Michelin mom waddling from ride to ride. I endured a spinning gondola, and a ferris wheel death trap.

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Did I mention she was wedged in there?

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See that grip? We hadn’t even left the ground yet! She had that grip the entire ride.

Sidenote: When these rides do not post a weight limit, it makes me nervous. These puzzle-pieced-together rides that get built and torn down in less time than it takes me to rotate and put away a load of laundry, there is serious cause for alarm for this Amazonian Momma.

Spoiler: We lived. We lived despite the running film in my brain of footage airing on Good Morning America Monday morning: “Mom whale causes town fair Ferris wheel gondola to tip over, causing massive carnage in Washington state over the weekend.”

I was looking forward to shelling out money to stay on the ground and try winning some cheap and soon-to-be-forgotten prizes after all that.

We did the dart balloon thing. Each kid popped a balloon and got a prize. With the same bunch of darts I managed to pop 5 balloons – 2 of which I managed with only 1 dart! The kids each walked away with one small stuffy each.

Onto the water gun game. I kill at this game. I own it!

I lost.

I paid $6 for my son and I to play, and neither of us won. I did not want to go down without at least one win at this booth. … but alas, we brought daddy coin purse with us and not Daddy Warbucks.

It’s not that my husband is cheap, but when it comes to shelling out money at a fair, let’s just say white-knuckling the wallet might be a better description.

My daughter was willing to spend her entire fortune on winning something big and ugly. The toy didn’t matter as much as the size of it. She was not going to be satisfied until we had to tow a toy out of there for her.

… she left very unsatisfied.

We refused to let her spend her entire wallet on cheap knock-off prizes.

The whining and moaning on the way out did nothing to convince my husband to try another game. (Go figure!) He immediately caught on to how much we might spend on a fair when he is not with us.

This took us to the circus. It was time to be wowed and amazed! For a starter-circus, this was perfect. The ring leader informed us he was also the sound and lighting operator. This lead a lot of mishaps with mic packs and feedback.

There were acrobats, fire dancers, and a strange man running around filling in the space where a clown should have been. This guy had no make up or costuming really, and his tricks were pretty amateur. He was more confusing than amusing, but he served his purpose as a distraction while the performers readied themselves.

The kids enjoyed it and I was pleased at all the “Whaaaaa??” “WOW!” and jaw dropping both kids did.

All in all it was a great day and one I will remember for a long time… or at least as long as the beads stay in the stuffies.

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Tell me that’s not ominous.

 

Plans and Paint

Published April 5, 2017 by sarcasmica

Current project: Figure out a design for the new house.

Current status: Clueless

I have done the unimaginable and hired a designer. I need help. I, apparently, am easily overwhelmed. Funny how this happens more and more the older you get. I guess my cup o’ shit is running close to full a lot because the minute someone hovers above it with a handful of more, I start twitching.

Not that this process is anywhere near “shit” status. It’s not. I am just out of my depth. I blame HGTV, Chip and Joanna, Pinterest, and life. I am no longer satisfied with garage sale furniture forced to function and ADD walls with one color over there, another color in the bathroom, and a totally separate color in the hall. It’s time to live like the grown up I’m pretending to be, and the government insists that I am.

BLEND, bitches, BLEND!

The beautiful house we bought has some color scheme issues. The entry is green, the living area is sand, and the kitchen and TV room is burnt orange.

Really…

And the home office is green and the guest room is burn-your-eyes-out blue, one bedroom is regurgitated yellow, another is pleasant boy blue, and the master ceiling – just the ceiling – is ocean sky blue.

 

….

I mean, seriously. The painter we met at the house was just like, “Huh?”

So we are de-patching and wholly unifying. We are gonna bring that space together, but in order to do that, I need a professional. A low-cost, fairly noob-ish designer. You know, one that is still driving around the Escape and not yet into the Mercedes.

I met her at the house and she helped me narrow down a color. It’s beautiful, I love it, but now I’m wondering how big the project is going to get. Not because she’s pushing, but because I just want to do this once.

We are trying to upscale the furniture a bit so we have to not only pick wall colors that match mantles and carpet and hardwoods, but also that lend to some creative furniture ideas and colors.

DELFT by sherwin-williams

This gets overwhelming quickly.

Is it happy hour yet?

 

Parrot Life

Published March 21, 2017 by sarcasmica

Birds were never in my plan. Animals, yes, birds specifically, notsomuch.

My “life plan” (chuckle chuckle chuckle) was to flounder in community college for a little while before sticking with the sign language interpreter program. Once I mastered that, I would go to Moorpark College in Simi Valley, CA and work as an interpreter while simultaneously studying in their exotic animal training and management program. In order to study in the program, you also have to work at the college zoo. The only block I had was how to get through all the bug stuff. I hate bugs. HATE. I can appreciate their role in an ecosystem and yes I understand how important they are blah blah blah, but handling them?! No.

Blech. I can’t.

Anyway, I got as far as my interpreter program. I didn’t even complete that. See, my step mother was the interpreter coordinator for the campus in addition to a teacher in the department. (That is how she and my dad met and later married) My last semester I had a class that is only offered once/year at only one time. I was at the end of my last semester in the three year program when my dad died. Being as how I was the only offspring of either side to help my stepmother make arrangements, get through the awful tragedy, and deal with the hurricane of tedium you have to deal with when a loved one dies, school suffered a bit. I still made it to my final roughly a week after the funeral… the funeral my teacher for the same class attended along with most of the department and all my past and present instructors.

Guess who failed the class? Yup. Moi. I wasn’t expecting a free pass, I wasn’t expecting an A, but can you really not help someone out in that scenario? Really?! Can you honestly not offer some kind of counseling on the side or advice? Just F, done, buh bye, sorry for your loss.

Anyway, I was bitter after this happened, naturally. I also was connected through my step mother with my first signing job in Irvine at a high school. I moved to Irvine and could not manage the 2 hour rush hour commute for the one hour class back in Torrance, either. I just let it go.

Anyway, that job and that city led me to Arizona and another job and then got married and had a kid and life and yada yada yada. Long story short, I never made it to Moorpark College.

In my early 20’s while still in school, a friend of mine was a manager at Petco. She offered me a job as a Bird Specialist and I’d be in charge of the department – ordering, feeding the babies, caring for the cages and animals, stocking, etc etc. I took it knowing any knowledge needed I’d have to research myself since they do not have any sort of extensive training for this. I loved it. It was sad – seeing the state they were delivered in from breeders – but it was also gratifying – being able to educate people on a pet. I was absolutely astounded at how many grown people have a fear of birds. Kids would readily go into the bird room while their parents stood outside shaking their heads and twitching at the thought of wings coming at their face. (a common fear, apparently)

Anyway, I suppose that’s where the seed was planted. Ironically twenty years later I’m working the other side of the pet industry. It’s exactly opposite, actually, right down to me volunteering and not getting paid to care for the birds that people could not for a million and eighteen reasons commit a lifetime to. It’s so rewarding that there’s about 65 volunteers that the sanctuary heavily relies on for feeding/cleaning/food prep/grooming. I’m always impressed with the volunteers that balance this work with a paying full time gig. There are students, retirees, unemployed (moi) but we all, I think, look forward to our time there helping out.

Everyone has their niche. Some people like the cage work; cleaning and feeding. Some people like the massive open flight area. Some like the rooms and some don’t even interact with the birds. They handle food only. My happy place is the room. I have one room where I’ve learned about 70% of the birds names and know them fairly well. I don’t handle many because, quite frankly, I’ve seen enough bites to not be excited by that happening. I’ve had only one bad bite that’s left a scar, but like most stories of bites it was my own fault. I took a bird out and she didn’t want to return to the room when I needed her to. Instead of getting a perch, I kept insisting she step up on my arm and after repeatedly pushing back with her beak, she finally gave me a good clear chomp. … then I got the perch. Duh.

Funny enough two of my favorite birds reside in rooms completely different than my favorite. I don’t hold it against them, though 🙂

Anyway, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to fulfill my wish of actually working and interacting with wild exotic animals for a job, but truthfully my kids and these crazy parrots seem to be filling my heart. So while I figure it out, I’ll just keep taking pictures and hope people enjoy them.

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Merlot

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Coco

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Sugar

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Zephyr

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Junior (i think)

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Willy

 

Decisions Decisions

Published March 5, 2017 by sarcasmica

Being a grown up is hard. Throwing kids into the mix is even harder.  You cant just make a decision, you have to beat every possible outcome into the ground.

We have been looking at the possibility of moving. Currently we have a wonderful traditional house. There’s a massive blacktop driveway, there’s a huge grassy backyard. Summers are chalk race track creations and variations and neighborhood kids running from yard to yard or riding bikes back and forth. It’s awesome! The not so awesome part is that it’s almost 40 years old and has had minimal updating. There is a long monotonous laundry list of things that need to be fixed or done to it. 

We found a house and it happens to be in a subdivision. It’s a much newer house than ours but sadly, typical of most, there is no yard. There’s a patio and a patch of grass. Essentially we are trading our amazing outdoor life for a comfy indoor life. Being Washington, the weather makes the inside of the house more of a requirement than the outside.

I came here at 5am because I woke up freaking out about the cons. Aaaall the cons. I message bombed my friends with my panic and realized that wasnt cool, so i need to make a list of the why’s. Not to answer to or justify, but to remind myself why we are doing this. 

1. Upgraded house

2. Proximity to huge city park

3. Saving money

4. Much better layout

5. More community

6. Friends for the kids

7. Way less maintenance

8. New places to explore

At this moment, amid packing boxes and nearing the end of winter (i hope!!) it’s easy to panic about the cons. The changes. The unknowns. The thought of a decision you dont have to make, but are choosing to make negatively impacting your kids is hard. Maybe if I were a parent who believed in blindly leading for the sake of control and authority I’d have less stress. I’d have miserable kids, perhaps, but who cares? Do as I say and ask no questions!

That’s not how we roll. 

If I can keep our reasons in the fore front and remember all the whys I can maintain forward momentum. Silly things like sleep and quiet darkness creep in and make me question what we are doing. 

One down side to moving as often as we have is that it becomes easy to continue doing it. I need to learn with the next house not to say “never again.”.

House Hunting Adventures

Published February 4, 2017 by sarcasmica

Recently I’ve noticed houses in our neighborhood selling really quickly once they go on the market. My husband and I decided to take a peek and see if anything out there would be worth selling our house for. We have some lay out issues with ours in addition to needing a mother-in-law option for my mom who has been living with us for a few years.

We made some rules for ourselves which we began to break almost immediately.

I am pretty set on not wanting to take my son out of our school boundary. It’s been an uphill battle to get here and I cannot make him start all over. I cannot start all over, either. Not if I want to keep this hair in my head and the bits of sanity i’ve held onto.

So we had a radius…which we periodically went outside of.

A couple of weeks ago the seemingly perfect house came up! There was an open house that weekend and it was about 5 miles away. 

“Let’s go!”

It was a rambler. A one story older house on a fantastic piece of peoperty beside a creek. Fenced yard, beautiful back yard area, big kitchen and a lot odd quirky character. Bonus: it had a free standing “additional dwelling unit” aka mother-in-law house/cottage converted barn.

My husband’s current mode of transportation is a knee scooter due to foot surgery he had, and most likely will have again in 2 years on the other foot. We are currently in a 2 story, so this added to the pluses of the house. 

Long story short we went back numerous times for sanity checks, remodeling options yada yada yada, we made an offer.

We told no one. We were a little terrified to even admit we were going to give up our house in this big family oriented neighborhood and quiet private street for a place closer to town and quite frankly I have no idea when I began giving a flying frankfurter what other people think! Why the need to justify this? I’ll move on.

We were so excited! The kids were mostly on board, Fixer Upper was now on the DVR, pinterest pins were flying, color chips were chosen, negotiations were being made and we were prepping our disasterously disorganized house to go on the market in five days. FIVE DAYS! 

We hired gardeners to spruce up the property. 

Side Note: Land is a big pain in the ass and you should probably have it professionally maintained more than every three years 😱

We rented a dumpster and cleared out all kinds of karma, baggage, trash and crap. 

We settled on terms, price, and all was going famously. As long as the inspection came back reasonable the deal would be signed. During the inspection, I met a designer at the property to talk about what remodeling would entail. She had some great ideas. 

This was really happening! How exciting!! 

My husband and I filled in all the initials and signatures on the new contract, leaving areas blank for the agent to fill in after inspection. As we were finishing up, the inspector comes in and begins to load the info onto his laptop. We were in high spirits and joked with him, “Anything big? Any show-stoppers?” totally expecting to hear nothing major….afterall, there was a new roof, new kitchen counters and recent flooring in addition to new carpet. What could go wrong?

He responded with, “Ohhhh yea. Several.”

Shit.

My husband, myself, and our agent walked over still not expecting what we got.

He began with things like cracked window seals, and broken fences. We thought, “Hmm, ok. Manageable.” Then he got to “failed windows” which means the pane needs to be removed and resealed…but it was a window in nearly every room. Damn. 

He moved onto the chimney with pictures of crumbling mortar so bad chunks had just fallen down onto the roof. 

Crap.

Posts holding up the porch roof were beginning to rot and were not fastened properly. Double damn.

We nervously said, “Have we reached the bad stuff now then?”

“Hang on we’re getting there.”

Shit.

We go through some more issues with rotting steps and beams and we’re thinking the scope is getting big and imagining repair costs but we’re hanging in there.

We get to the attic pictures and it begins to unravel. The “new roof” is putting up a 99.9 % moisture reading on his digital gadget. He tells us that is only because it does not have a 100% option. The roof was saturated with water. No less than 20 leaks, and there were most definitely more than that. 

“But he just had the roof done in November!?!”

“Ok, so now this is the worst of it, right?”

“Hang in there..”

Fuck.

Next we see insulation with tracks carved out. Rats. Rats had made their own subdivisions in the rafters. Lots of them, too. A variety of live ones, dead ones, skeletal ones. Rats for everyone! Rat nests, highways so they can travel during the holidays, and wherever they go they pee and poop and pee some more. The insulation was completely saturated with waste.


This was not all.

Soaking wet beams and boards in Washington usually means one thing. Mold. There was white fuzz spreading like ice on a windshield.

But wait, there’s more!

The horizontal load bearing beams in the roof had vertical support beams. Great! Unfortunately the beams were not actually fastened properly to the load bearing beams with anything more than a nail.

Not. Kosher.

One picture showed the middle support beam completely severed resulting in nothing holding the roof!

But the roof was just re-done!

Next we go south to the crawl space. More skeletons and fossils of rodents. Rats to be exact. Zero insulation below the floors to replace at least. There was no insulation. What there was was a giant swimming pool for the rats. A Club Pet, if you will…and they did. They clubbed and swam and scurried all beneath there. The sump pump was not able to drain the water because it wasnt graded to do so. The size of the under home pool was from half the kitchen, down the hall and an entire bedroom. The water was pouring in from the fancy water heated pipe system in addition to the massive separation of the foundation from the side of the house. One entire side of the house. 

But at least the house was stable, right? 

No! The support beams that hold the house up were rotted from all the water! Didnt really matter because they too were not properly attached to the structure. 

Again we saw a broken beam with the board above it totally suspended. The rotting beams that go to the concrete foundation were not actually set into the foundation. They were floating.

“They all float down here!” on the mold, apparently. There was more beneath the house.

The roof on the mother-in-law unit was equally drenched and wrecked. There were curiously no rats over there, though. 

So after 45 minutes of the ass whooping we were served by the inspector, we just picked our jaws off the cold unstable floor and stared in disbelief at the walls of this house we had already made plans for. The agent was equally horrified and shocked by all of this. 

Needless to say the contract was torn up and now we just move on, but definitely not in.

Old houses are one thing to take on, moldy rat infested structures that leak water and are held up by spaghetti sticks do not make good investments or homes.

The March

Published January 22, 2017 by sarcasmica

To be clear, I did not march. I did not have it together enough to go participate. I am so proud of all the people who did, though! Millions and millions of people -women, men, kids, black/white/green/red- all showed a peaceful refusal of accepting this “person” as President of the United States. 

How can someone look at that global turnout and turn a blind eye? How can people look at that unified effort and determination and dismiss it?

I think a lot of people are unclear on the purpose of it. Let me help if I can.

Donald Trump has plainly stated his opinion of women. He places value in boobs and willingness to be silent to abuse. 

Supporting Trump is not a pick and choose option. You cannot dismiss the mocking of a disabled person and say he’d make a good president because he runs a business. (Which requires appreciation and buiding up your employees) 

You cannot endorse a man who does not respect LGBT communities and still expect him to have the best interest of the country at heart. The LGBT community is part of this country. 

There are so very many reasons millions of people went out and marched. No one was whining or crying about injustice. They simply stated it. No one was violent and combative. There were no arrests. No one hurled weapons or destruction. 

It was an enourmous statement that we do not accept a President who does not accept us. 

That is why they are marching. The basic refusal to accept this human as our leader. Im sure if you took a poll of all the protesters you would find a vast array of things they are protesting. It’s that big. It’s not one tidy answer all wrapped in a bow and put on a board. There are many things to disagree with him about but the overall theme is that he wants to diminish the value and power of women, LGBT, lower class, and minorities.

We will endure his presidency, but not willingly and not without an educated, rational, united, peaceful fight. 

For all the women standing up and saying they are not the victims the “snowflakes” are portraying all women to be. For the women in denial about being in control of their bodies and families please stop. Yes it’s important to claim your strength, but that is not what the march is about. Yes you are in control, but what happens when something out of your control happens?! What happens if you are a teenager in Texas who is in a commited relationship and you have no access to birth control because of the governement? 

What happens if you find out your pregnancy is killing you and it is illegal to terminate that pregnancy? What about the women who get the heart-breaking news that the baby they are creating is malformed and will die before or during labor? Regardless of what your choice might be, the government decides how you will handle that. You do not get to choose.

Do you think that woman has a choice to feel independent and empowered and in charge of her life?!

These marches are happening despite your unwillingness to acknowledge the dangerous and lethal decision to put this man in office. 

If you do not agree with 4+ million people peacefully demonsrating maybe you are missing the bigger picture. This is no small feat, and you have to respect whatever brings that many people together with kindness, appreciation, and an open mind. 

This is not about Clinton vs Trump, but let me just say this. If Hillary’s emails that- caused so much uproar- were found to have made porn illegal, or vasectomies illegal what would the result be? If a President made Lorena Bobbitt in charge of men’s health would you stand by and allow it? 

The people who put Trump in office are equally responsible for that insult of the disabled reporter. The people who voted for Trump are equally responsible for the families suffering the loss of a family member due to the loss of their health care. 

There is a bigger picture when millions of people across the planet are unifying in a large scale gesture of refusal. It’s not about one statement or act. It’s about the number of acts and statements that now have the power to make laws and appoint Supreme Court Justices who will make constitutional laws for the future. 

If you dont understand or support the march, fine. Do not diminish the value of the women who have done it. They have the courage and the determination and the enlightenment you refuse to see.

Thank you to everyone who marched. Especially thank you to the women who turned out by the millions. Thank you for not making it about the rage and hurt you feel and turning into something ugly. Thank you for showing the power of grace and unity that is uniquely feminine. 

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the beauty of an ordinary life

nappies + milk

moms spilling the beans

The Adventures of Fanny P.

...because life is just one big adventure...

The Cheergerm & the Silly Yak

The life and times of a cheergerm

The Nicki Daniels Interview

mostly awesome, most of the time

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