Another Lazy Blog Entry - My President

I wrote this right after the last election.

I have to say that looking back I do feel that we have come a long way from here. We seem to have woken up as a people. I still believe whole heartedly when Bush leaves office and the dust clears we will uncover the enormity of the worst administration the Unites States has ever seen. Forget the nation, he is bad for the world on so many levels. He is the president that was so bad for the environment that even people in Arkansas and Idaho are talking about greenhouse gas and emission control. While this side effect is not a bad thing - clearly - what it took to get us here is catastrophic. Kyoto! The problems that the next administration will face are monumental. It is my fear that the next in line cannot truly succeed. They will be to busy cleaning up messes to move forward.

I am hopeful. But I worry for us.

Anyway. Here is the piece I wrote a few weeks after reelection. I did in fact start screaming.

My president.

Bush is now my president. I am against all that he stands for. I am opposed to “faith” based programs that exclude and divide.

Bush is a bumper sticker president. Abortion declarations, NRA proclamations, My boss is a jewish carpenter. Bumper stickers, declarations of those views we hold dear and that divide us as a nation, as a people.

Bush is a bumper sticker.

This is my president. The man who says that God has chosen his path, God has declared his way.

This is my president. The Crusader who strikes out at religious zealots from the Middle east even though he is in fact a religious zealot from middle America.

What a country we have developed that we are allowed to voice our opinions and have our own views openly declared.

What a wonderful world we live in where we are open to make our voices heard and speak out strongly for those things we find important.

The will of the people have spoken, my president says. The will of the people are at my back as I plan to push my agenda items forward.

I am the people. And so, just as I must come to terms with the fact that Bush is my president, so must he acknowledge that he is my president. He represents me, and the 5 million other people who do not agree with him.

I will accept four more years because I have to but I will not sit idly by and let this man forget that he is my president too and this is my country as much as it is those who voted for his right wing policies.

I will stand up strong and I will shout my views if necessary. I will cover my car with one bumper sticker: “Practice Random Acts of Kindness” and I will point my car toward Washington and my president.

A little reminder

I love this country. And I don't love it in spite of the conservative right wing front. I love it because of that. I love that different views and different experiences can be expressed, embraced or disregarded. I love that we are a melange of colors, religions and beliefs. I love that we stand up and behind what we feel is right. I love that as a nation we are empowered and we feel responsible for the success of the rest of the world. I love that we elected JFK and I love that we didn't really elect George W.

The one thing I don't understand is how he got re-elected.

That sentence just made me sigh. A deep soulful sigh. We were so strong and united and poised for magical wonderful togetherness. We stood tall and united and most of the world was behind us. It makes me sad to think that this is what came of 9/11. It makes me think of the "poem" I wrote in Early November the year of his re-election. So here it is ladies and gentleman, back for one night only -

November 3^rd

A nation will be decided

We will move forward

November 3^rd

We will fly our colors high

Rich, diverse and beautiful

November 3rd

We will stand together

As we did on Sept 12^th - united in our firm resolve

November 3^rd

We will stand focused on the goal of protection

Building a world that will be better for our children

November 3^rd

We will be the best that we can be

Together, proud and strong

November 3^rd

Is a day that will stand tall in the

History of America

November 3^rd

All those who have stood apart

Will step up

November 3^rd

The greatness that we can be, once were

Will be realized

November 3^rd

The past will step to the podium

And accept defeat

November 3^rd

All of America will accept their victory

We will be as we should be

November 3^rd

Will be the day of light,

celebration and progress will guide our future

Or

on November 3^rd

We will be proclaimed the country of idiots

And we will have crowned our king

Super Mom

As I sat trying to move four items off of the table yesterday at one time while restraining my 14 month old I contemplated the heroic powers given to me by each of my children.

Maya created: The One Armed Wonder
I still marvel at what one is capable of doing with only one hand. I have mastered knitting single handedly. I can crochet, do needlepoint and cook a full course meal, all with only one free hand. I can, of course, hold a 50 pound bag in one arm for HOURS while completing these tasks with the other.

Dean created: Octomom
Octomom is able to use all eight arms at once. Retrieving precariously perched babes from rocking chairs while simultaneously moving glasses, remote controls, scissors and of course dogs out of reach. Octomom is a wonder to watch. She moves with lightning speed around what at first seems like a perfectly safe and habitable home but quickly turns into a hot bed of danger and life-threatening situations.


These powers combined have made me into: Supermom.
Soother of booboos, reader of books, a kissing and hugging machine.
Look down on the floor! It's a nurse, it's a maid - It's SuperMOM.

What's your superhero power?

The Great Outdoors

Took the wee ones on their very first camping trip this weekend. The boy child was a symphony of non stop motion but was somehow still happily content in the (new) baby backpack we got for the trip. How have we lasted so long without this little marvel? I am wondering if there are other secrets and gadgets I have missed out on? When we took the first babe for nature walks we always used what we refer to as the all terrain stroller. Pain in the butt really.

Anyway Dean was happily enjoying the scenery and playing with what is left of daddy's hair. They looked like a monkey family with Dean grooming the papa monkey. I have some very cute photos.

Maya's highlights of the trip?
"fishing and... going to bed"

We introduced her to bunk beds for the very first time. Need I say more?

I'd love to hear about good camp grounds and or tips for camping with kids if you have them.

Let's talk about Sex - TMI warning

Why not. Seems like most everyone I know is doing it, has done it, will most likely do it again (Most of the people I know have kids so - duh!).
May as well talk about it.

I realized a couple of things about sex recently:
Sex is more important than I thought
Sex is about much more than a physical connection (let me hear your body talk)
Not having sex is bad

I would also say that I learned that sex is more important to my husband than it is to me, but I already knew that. I think sex is a form of communication and connection that I hadn't really given much thought to, until recently. I think he does think about it, feel it that way.

You don't always know what you've got - until it's gone. Or something like that.

Sex left my life for a while. I'm not sure how it left or why. But I barely missed it.

And now it's back.

And life is better. And love is better. And I feel connected and centered.

It seems odd that this is the truth. It also seems odd that this seems odd. I am surprised. And I am surprised that this is a revelation to me.

I am sure there is a chicken and egg question in there somewhere but I am not delving too deeply into this one. I am just enjoying it for what it is.

And that is all I have to say about sex today.

I am posting a poem I wrote a few year's ago because The Book Group I attended last night got me thinking about this again.

Black Denial

I am not black.

I say it with a deep sigh that comes up from my soul and escapes on the wind of my breath.

I am not black.

I carry this secret with me

Even though it rings false on the bells of my heart.

I am not black.

To latinos I am them.

Angry and insistent voices tell me

I do indeed speak Spanish.

“Look” they say, “you are like me.”

“si?”

I am not Latina.

Many try to see themselves in me.

Others try harder to find the differences.

I am not black.

Made clear in the exclusions of my youth

that mocked my cries of racism.

I am not black.

Made clearer when refused admittance

based on my skin tone. High yellow what?

The only reverse of racism is acceptance.

I am not white.

Once I wished for the sun kiss that would make that statement unnecessary.

I am not white.

My grandmother’s grandfather bought his freedom in the fields of North Carolina.

My mother sat in the colored section despite her light skin of confusion.

I am not white.

I am so many things that no one but me will understand.

“What are you?” Is the frequent question.

I am what we all are.

I am wonderful, beautiful, magical.

I am so much more than a color.

Tag, I'm it.

I've never been tagged before. I believe the topic is eight things most people don't know about me.

1. I sing, a lot. Not all that well.
2. I write, a little. pretty well.
3. I moved around a lot as a child. I have lived in NJ, MA, NY, CA, GA, PA. I had several residences in NJ, NY and MA.
4. I like cheesy romance novels. (I call them brain candy)
5. I love musicals.
6. I played drums in a heavy metal band in High school.
7. I am biracial by birth.
8. I am adopted.

There you have it. I would tag someone else BUT I don't know that many bloggers. And the ones I do know Rachel tagged already.

Oh well.

Game over.