Sin and Forgiveness

First, a confession: I could not resist the "Lock Up" marathon. Just couldn't. The glimpse it offers of life in prison fascinates me, and the trainer in me finds useful the systems of rewards and punishments and levels and responsibility, and it reinforces for me the notion that people do what works for them, even if it causes them pain. But that's for another post.

They were interviewing a man who was on death row. Robert Fry, serial killer. He had killed four people, brutally. And, while in prison, he "found God."

He talked about sin, and being forgiven, and how he has been saved. He said, "What's worse, killing someone or stealing a cracker? It's all the same to God."

What caught me was this idea that stealing a cracker or killing a man were both equal sins in the eye's of the Lord: a sin is a sin, period. And that he had been forgiven by God, which gave him the right to ask the families of his victims for forgiveness.

That's about when my head exploded.

Okay, shall we break this down? I don't know what moral sense could equate eating someone else's cracker with killing them. The levels of harm are absurdly divergent, and I would think an inherent sense of justice wouldn't punish the cracker eater the same as the mass murderer. But, how convenient for him. This man can kill four people and feel like he did the same level of wrong as a cracker-stealer. He can sleep easy, safe in the knowledge that what he did was no worse than what a starving man stealing bread might have done. How awesome to think that the very worst thing I could do is no worse than the very least bad thing I could do...

So, why not kill the guy holding the cracker? They are the same, right? So no harm in upgrading the sin.

Along with this goes the sense of absolution. He feels he has been forgiven, and so he feels morally superior to his victims, to the point where intruding on their lives to ask them a favor seems completely appropriate.

(I have no issue with a victim making the choice to forgive--or not--a perpetrator. But it is their choice, and one they have a right to make on their own, and without requiring communication with the perp.)

Can you imagine, after burying your spouse/mom/son, the murderer thinks it is appropriate to, oh, send you a letter. Not one apologizing, but one asking for your forgiveness. Without a single thought to how you have healed, how you are grieving, how this intrusion might rip open slowly healing wounds.

Because it is still all about him. This murder didn't care about his victims, and "finding God" hasn't given him empathy or sympathy or compassion or insight. All it has given him is absolution and a bizarre removal of responsibility or need for atonement.

If that's what 'finding god' is about, I'm content to leave him lost...

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Wish for my Teen

For my family one of the biggest and hardest lessons we teach our teen is dealing with the consequences of his own actions.



That is, often, easier said than done. It is hard to watch him not do what he needs (I want him) to do. It is hard to not prod and prompt and offer intermediate rewards, dangling a new video game in exchange for a cleaner room or completed schoolwork. But I try and resist, because failure is one of the most important learning tools we have, even though it is so hard to give our kids the chance they need to fail.

A bad day or week or month or even year doesn't have to be a disaster, there is time to recover: to homeschool over the summer and make up any lost credits, to get early enrollment at a college, to just adjust expectations and find a new path.

And so, if he knows that completing this week's work equals a trip to the beach for the weekend, and he chooses to not complete the work, that is his choice. He has decided the one wasn't worth the other, right now. Come the weekend, of course, the priorities change! But it is too late, and consequences are lived with. Because that is how life works.

And he doesn't benefit by me letting it go "just this once" or lowering expectations. Work is, you know, hard and stuff. It takes effort. But it has value, both for it's own sake and for the other things it brings. And sometimes, in the midst of a hormonal teenager's mind, that little bit gets lost.

When my teen asks me what I want for him I always say "For you to be healthy and happy; to have work that makes you feel good about doing it and supports you enough so your needs are met along with some wants; for you to find love with the person(s) of your choosing and to have a family if desired."

When he has a bad week or blows off school or changes his mind AGAIN about a course he wanted I remind myself that he has the right to choose his life, and that my job is to guide him, but not stop him from falling. He has to learn to look where he's going, and if his short-sightedness has an impact, all the better.

He has the right to fail, and the right to fail on his own terms. And the right to look around, absorb the lesson, and move on; wiser and stronger. And I do not have the right to take that away from him.

I'd rather he learn some serious lessons while home than wait until he gets to college and is away and alone...



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New Cat!

I have a new cat:





Her name is Miss Gingersnaps, a.k.a Missy, a.k.a. Miss Floofytail. She is about six months old.

I found her at a friend's house, under pile of Dobermans.





These Dobermans, actually

She was unscathed but for a fractured jaw, which the vet kindly fixed for a discounted price (Thank you! Best. Vet. EVAH!)

Missy spent a few weeks alone, recovering. But she needed to start meeting the other animals in the house






Misha is very curious






Ah! One good sniff!






And we have a truce






Now we can all sit around together, watching the TV

Interestingly, my three best friends are also gingers. Hmm...

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I'm a millionaire!

There aren't enough face palms in the world to cover this one...

My Dearest,

Good day to you, I have decided to contact you after much thought considering the fact that we have not meet before, but because of the circumstance oblige me, I decided to contact you due to the urgency of my present situation here in the refugee camp, I am Miss Joy Kipkalya Kones, 25yrs old female and I from Kenya here in Africa; my father was the former Kenyan road Minister. He and Assistant Minister of Home Affairs Lorna Laboso had been on board the Cessna 210, which was headed to Kericho and crashed in a remote area called Kajong'a, in western Kenya. The plane crashed on Tuesday 10th, June, 2008, you can read more on the Site http://edition.cnn.com/2008/ WORLD/africa/06/10/kenya. crash/index.html.

After the death of my beloved father my wicked step mother along with my uncles team together and sold everything that my late father had and share the money within themselves. Unfortunately to me I fined my father's briefcase and when I opened it I found a document, which my late father use to deposit the sum of Eight Million Five Hundred Thousand United State Dollars ($8.500.000.00) in the Bank, here in Burkina Faso West Africa with my name as next of skin, right now I am in Ouagadougou Capital of Burkina Faso to withdraw the money so that i can start a better life and also further my education.

But on my arrival to the Bank, the Bank foreign Operation Department Director whom I meet in person told me that my father instruction to their bank is that the fund would only be release to me when I am married or present a trustee/partner who will help me and invest the fund overseas after the transfer, and the bank ask me to go and look for a foreign partner, that was why I decided to contact you, which I believe that you are going to be honest and reliable person that will help me and stand as my trustee/partner, so that I can present you to the Bank for the release and transfer of the inheritance fund into your bank account in your country, and It is my intention to compensate you with 40% of the total fund for your services and help and the balance shall be my capital in your establishment. As soon as I receive your positive response showing your interest i will put things into action, in the light of the above, I shall appreciate an urgent message indicating your ability and willingness to handle this transaction, awaiting your urgent and positive response, Please do keep this only to your self, i beg you not to disclose it to any body till i come over because am afraid of my wicked stepmother, i will send you my picture in my next email, with due respect, i am pleading that you help me, i am giving all this detailed information with every transparency believing that you will have a clear picture of the base of help i need from you.

I hope to hear from you soon, May truth and love be the guiding word in my refuge,

Best regard,
Yours Sincerely
Joy Kipkalya Kones.

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Racism from a friend, Part 1

I was lucky growing up. I might be Hispanic, but my Dad never spoke Spanish to us and assimilated well. I went to private schools that he scrimped to pay for. He expected me to do anything and be anything. He cooked and cleaned and sewed, so my image of man/woman's work was never defined; everyone just did what they could. Plus I was smart, and tall, and slender. None of which was more than lucky genes, but it helped.

Although I had learned about racism in school, it was an abstract. I was at an all-girls high school, so it was very female-positive. Race just didn't enter my view.

It wasn't until college that I realized that people still thought that way. Really. It was a shock.

But it was other people being bigots towards other people. It wasn't my circle, it wasn't towards me.

When it came, it wasn't from a boss or a job, it was from a friend. A friend of many years. I knew she had been raised racist, I knew she struggled with it, but it was something I knew she didn't like about herself and was trying to change. I admired that.

And then.

The conversation was about needing Spanish speaking doctors. And suddenly she was past angry, she was overflowing with hate towards those damned people coming here without speaking American and she wasn't going to fucking learn no damned fucking Spanish and those fucking immigrants can just go the fuck home.

And I asked if that included me and my family. No, we spoke English. But my dad didn't, not when he first got here. He was 16, it took some time to learn English...

But she couldn't hear me. Her hate was frothing over.

And so I guess my friend forgot what I was when she was spewing hate. That her hate was directed at me, too.

She apologized. She didn't mean it. There was wine involved; she had a bad day; things are just tough for her...she's sorry. She didn't mean me and mine, after all.

And I hurt. Weeks later, and I hurt. I stay up thinking about it, how her hate started unhinging after Obama was elected. How whites are afraid of a world that is darkening, where their privilege--my privilege--is slipping away. The difference is that isn't my only world. The difference is I am not afraid of change. The difference is that I don't mind sharing, that my table always has room for one more...

And I wonder how many friends I'll have, and how many I'll lose, and who my new friends will be. Because immigration is not something I can stfu about. Racism is not something I can keep quiet in the corner about. And bigotry is something I was raised to rail against. In any form.

Especially from a friend.

On another blog (which I've forgotten) someone posted the absolutely appropriate following:

also, we all have close friends who we don’t realize are racist until these “isolated” incidents happen and then we get to see a side of them that we had no idea existed. the fact that they have suffered or are oppressed in other ways does not make it okey-dokey for them to express that racism that has been hiding in them. and us bearing the brunt of that racism is not something we should just smile off and say “oh, she didn’t mean it”. it still has to get called out as racist.

In other words, you don’t get to feel taller by standing on my back.

No, you don't.


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#gopdebate

My favorite tweets about the debate:

i think when santorum says he "worked on poor people" he means he physically stood on poor people and worked

ron paul would never, EVER force your teenage daughter to do anything, except have a baby if she is pregnant

Rick Perry, in one sentence, claims government spending won't create one job, then thanks Navy Seals. Who are paid by Santa Claus, I guess.


Brian Williams must think he's in a SNL skit. #GOPDebate

If you're just tuning in, America is losing the GOP Debate. #GOPDebate #Tweetthepress

Gringrich wants them all to join in hatred to form Injustice League of America #GOPdebate

Ok, is this weird? They say gov't CANNOT create jobs. Then they take credit for creating jobs while in office. #GOPDebate


RT @LordPalpatine: I feel a tremor in the force. As if millions of intelligent people were suddenly exposed to extreme greed and ignorance. #GOPDebate

Great question on income gap between black and white Americans. Wish it would have been answered. #gopdebate

RT @BorowitzReport: Perry: "We have kept our employment in Texas high by executing the jobless." #gopdebate


Commercial against legal immigration at #gopdebate. I guess if you're not a native American you should go back 2 where you came from.

Californians for population stabilization? Wow, why not just call yourselves the Klan and get it over with #GOPDebate #ReaganDebate

@BorowitzReport: Bachmann: "I would cut the price of gasoline in half. Also the IQ of the President." #gopdebate


This is the worst episode of America's Got Talent EVER. #TweetThePress #GOPDebate”

I did not watch it. It steals my sanity...


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Fat Hatred

I have a weight problem.

Not my weight, per se, but a problem with how we view weight through a small lens. A very small lens that only sees skinny people as 'good'. Where a medical issue--or not--is used to pass judgement on a person.

And then I was reading a post about fat hatred:(Thanks Shakesville)

So this morning I see that professional fat-hater Jamie Oliver has posted a petition which he's asking people to sign in support of his "Food Revolution," and in which he's included the bullshit stat that "obesity in the US costs $10,273,973 per hour" (sure) and notes, in all-caps, "OBESITY IS PREVENTABLE."

When the science eventually catches up to the reality that fat people who are not fat as a result of disordered eating already know, the people who are putting their faces and names to this campaign will be ashamed that they ever supported such naked bigotry, such rank hostility, such victim-blaming garbage. Paul Campos, who has written extensively about the OH NOES Obesity Crisis! and debunked many of the myths surrounding fat and health, has observed that the science, conventional wisdom, and cultural narratives of obesity closely mimic the science, conventional wisdom, and cultural narratives about homosexuality a generation ago, and has pointed out parallels between the gross "reparative therapy" touted to magically make gays straight and the gross "reparative therapy" touted to magically make fatties thin.

Because people forget that weight and health are not perfectly aligned. Fat people are healthy; skinny people get diabetes and high cholesterol and have heart attacks.

And weight loss is not a panacea for the ills of the world. It isn't easy, actually, to lose weight. Our bodies make it incredibly hard to lose weight and to keep it off.

And I'll tell you a secret: I want to lose weight. About 20 pounds. One, I have an inherited kidney disease, so keeping my blood pressure as low as possible matters, and my weight has some impact on that. Two, I just don't like it. I'm not fat, I'm not skinny.

And I'm struggling with that. With health vs. artificial ideals about beauty. With health vs. skinny. With not losing weight easily, and coming to terms with this being hard work.

And I know skinny people and fat people, and I've seen the obvious contempt the first has for the second. The food policing (Do you really think I don't know how many calories are in a candy bar? Really? And, even worse, do you really think shaming me is going to help?) and the unasked for (and often inaccurate) advice on diet and exercise.

The way people use compliments as weapons: "You've lost weight! My goodness, you look so gorgeous!". Because, you know, fat people are ugly, apparently.

"I'm so glad you're working out! Muscle burns more calories than fat!" It doesn't. Well, like 2 extra calories, maybe 20 calories a day. Not enough to matter much.

And do you know how much exercise you have to do to actually lose weight? I ran a marathon: 26.2 miles. Well, I walked part of it, but anyway...26.2 miles. That's, on average, 2600 calories burnt in one day, give or take. And that's not enough to burn off one pound of fat!

So don't sit there and tell me to just stop eating, because I'm freaking hungry. And don't tell me to just eat protein, or carbs, or any other wacky diet...because there is zero evidence any of those fad diets work long term. And don't tell me to hit the gym, because I do. And guess what? Burning calories makes me hungry. And I need to replace the calories lost during the workout. It is just not the easy fix people like to think it is.

And, just my opinion, Jamie Oliver is a pompous, privileged twit....

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One Million Homophobic Moms...

Fallen From Grace alerted to me to One Million Moms and their agenda:

Mom, are you fed up with the filth many segments of our society, especially the entertainment media, are throwing at our children? Are you tired of all the negative influences our children are forced to contend with? If so, we urge you to become a member of OneMillionMoms.com.

OneMillionMoms.com was begun to give moms an impact with the decision-makers and let them know we are upset with the messages they are sending our children and the values (or lack of them) they are pushing.

Our goal is to stop the exploitation of our children, especially by the entertainment media (TV, music, movies, etc.). Mom, OneMillionMoms.com is the most powerful tool you have to stand against the immorality, violence, vulgarity and profanity the entertainment media is throwing at your children. It is time to fight back!

Among their peeves is that Teh Gays are on TV, and they started a campaign to get Chaz Bono kicked off DWTS.

But guess what! You can totes go and, from the One Million Moms website, send ABC a letter, only I reworded it slightly:


As a mother and a member of OneMillionMoms.com, I strongly encourageTHANK ABC Network to reconsider for their celebrity casting choices for "Dancing with the Stars" this season. I am extremely concerned HAPPY that ABC feels the need to be politically correct instead of creating show as strictly a dance competition. ABC has crossed the line DONE THE RIGHT THING in pushingSHOWING the LGBT INDIVIDUAL into what some families would consider safe entertainment.

Some programs in the entertainment industry have gone too far on controversial issues, and "DWTS" is now one of them. This show airs twice a week 8/7c while children are awake, and for ABC to promote a destructive lifestyle is irresponsible.

I am prepared to join thousands of other voices in urgingSUPPORTING advertisers to place it on their "do not advertise" list and consider pulling all ads from the entire ABC network in protest of this now highly offensive program. WHO SUPPORT DWTS.

If this is meant to be a family-friendly show, then I hope ABC will take this request seriously and replaceSUPPORT Chaz Bono and Carson Kressley (who was added last minute anyway because of another cast member's injury) in this season's lineup of "DWTS". Otherwise, Christian families will not enhance the ratings by watching the show when it returns September 19.

THANK YOU


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Codes of the Canine

Thank you Fake Science for explaining things!



This is why we can't have drums...

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Quote

"I am not interested to know whether vivisection produces results that are profitable to the human race or doesn't. The pain which it inflicts upon unconsenting animals is the basis of my enmity toward it, and it is to me sufficient justification of the enmity without looking further."

-Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)


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How to Twice Someone

From Cyanide & Happiness



This is not one of my peeves, it is The peeve...


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Assorted interesting stuff!

I have a long running battle with my dog over his nails. He actually chews them so I don't have to clip them, but that leaves ragged edges...so I was excited to read an excellent system for making the whole thing easier!
The Nail Wars

Skeptifem asks: Is weight loss surgery a feminist issue?

The idea of weight loss as a goal in and of itself is scientifically controversial. Obesity has only been correlated with health conditions, not identified as a sole cause of any condition. Lifestyle and genetics play a role in the conditions typically associated with obesity. There is also controversy over the danger associated with the surgery itself

Weight loss may or may not be a 'good' thing, but being healthy is more important than being thin: something lost in the national discussion. And one can exercise and eat right and be healthy and still be overweight.




And Mike the Mad Biologist has an excellent point about school reform:

It's the environment students live in that is the largest determinant of student performance--and, despite claims to the contrary, we can do something about poverty

And yet we don't do something about poverty.

Side note: children also have priorities. I volunteer as a Guardian ad Litem, and I am always appalled at teachers who complain about a student not being focused in class and barely passing when they know this child is on their second or third foster home, having been removed from an abusive or neglectful situation. With everything going on, why would getting a good grade even be on the child's radar? They are busy trying to survive...

We need to find some compassion, and a method that doesn't penalize students. It's not fair to keep holding a kid back; and it's not fair to promote them when they have no mastery of the subject matter. There needs to be a third and fourth and maybe even fifth or tenth option here...

And for no reason at all:


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The Most Important Thing

"The most important thing that parents can teach their children is how to get along without them."
- Frank A. Clark



H/T to @enlightndparent

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My first 10 mile run

(This is from March of 2007, but since I'm starting to run again I think it's important to remember my first long run. Photos from www.giftedrunner.com)

Well, I had my absolute worst run ever. I mean, worse then the very first time I ran, with the totally opposite kind of shoe then I needed, after 37 very fine years of sitting on my butt and refusing to break a sweat for anything that did not involve food at the end, (although running DOES involve food at the end, which is why I decided to start. It fell into my strict parameters of acceptable behavior. In fact, it involves EXTRA food, so it's okay by me.)



But this...this was bad. Bad in the way poison ivy over 40% of your body is bad. Bad in the same way watching the chef walk out of the restroom without washing his hands--after finishing your meal--is bad. I ran out of water before mile 6, and lost all energy midpoint at mile 8. I started bad, and then, with great determination and digging deep down into the bottom of whatever will I have, got steadily worse.

I've been doing about a 12 minute mile. My best was 11:15, I've had some shorter runs (3 miles, give or take) at a steady 11:40 pace, and my 9-miler I did a fabulous (for me) 12:21 pace. I am not a zippy fast runner, by any stretch.



But today...well, you decide:

12:37
13:27
13:22
13:04
13:25
13:49--ran out of water, couldn't take a GU.
14:36
14:49
16:22
16:58
I actually walked the last mile and half. Well, if by "walk" one means limping along, cussing inventively under my breath, and cataloging all the bits of me that hurt--many of which, may I take this opportunity to say, I had no idea I even had. Oh, and shivering in the sudden wind.

I actually didn't want to count it as my very first double-digit run. For one thing, it wasn't a 10 mile run. It was an 7 mile run, a one mile hop, and a 2 mile crawl. (I wonder if it's a sort of triathlon?) I was considering logging it as a 7 or 8 miler, and happily repressing the memory of those last 2 miles.

My husband, however, pointed out that I actually did cross the finish line, metaphorically speaking. Well, and literally speaking. And he pointed out that, at a race, crawling across the finish line counts. But it feels vaguely like cheating. Like winning the Daytona 500 under a caution flag. Like winning the World Series because of a referee error. Like crawling across a finish line...

I suppose I should take heart in that I didn't--as my body was crying out for me to do--just lay down on the path and quietly expire, or at least take a short nap.

Well, I did do 10 miles. My first double digit. I hated almost every step, and several times thought that stopping would be an excellent idea, but couldn't, because my car was still 3 miles away (yet another reason to do an out-and-back, because after the halfway point, you really have no choice. No choice at all.)

So, yes, I logged it as 10, with an average pace of 14:15. I walk faster then that, but hey, it's done. Now I will work on forgetting the last half, and remembering only the first few miles, when I was almost enjoying myself.

I suppose that all runners either have had a Very Bad run, or will have a Very Bad run. I've had mine. In a way, this, too, was a Rite of Passage, and allows my entry into that circle of runners... "Oh, you think THAT'S a bad run? Well, let me tell you about the time I was running with iron boots on, uphill the whole way...it was the MC Escher half marathon, and we figured we could finish before the hurricane really hit..."

Another milestone (pardon the pun) completed...


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Perspective

From here.

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Running With Dogs!

Pooch to 5k is sheer awesomeness!!

From the site:

"Personal training for dogs. You're kidding, right? Actually, no, we're not. Research suggests up to 40% of our dogs are overweight, and they suffer from the same health complications that overweight people do. Veterinarians (including myself) are becoming more and more concerned about the increase in joint pain, heart disease and other obesity related illnesses in dogs.

Hence, Pooch to 5k. Dogs can't lift weights, or use the gym. If you're going to increase their fat burning, you need to increase the intensity of their exercise. This means that a daily stroll just won't cut it any more, it's too laid back. The Pooch to 5k program will help you get your dog from doing nothing much to comfortably running 5km, over a period of 12 weeks."

My Little Mac does an easy 7 miles with my husband...


I think this is great, a real win-win. So lace up, leash up, and get running! Meet you at the track :)


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Article: A Forced Eugenics Survivor Speaks Her Truth

"When North Carolina's Eugenics program ended in 1974 more than 7,600 people were sterilized.  North Carolina had one of the most coercive eugenics program sterilizing people for "epilepsy, sickness and feeblemindedness."  Though the aforementioned were the stated reasons they also sterilized for promiscuity, homosexuality and so-called criminal intentions. "

They were doing this DURING MY LIFETIME. My current state was, during my lifetime, sterilizing people WITHOUT THEIR PERMISSION. 

While there isn't enough money in the world to somehow make this right, I hope NC stands up and does something to atone for this violation.

Please read the article. While it is heartbreaking it also serves as a reminder of why the State--or anyone else-- cannot have the right to determine who can be a parent.

A Forced Eugenics Survivor Speaks Her Truth
http://www.womanist-musings.com/2011/08/forced-eugenics-survivor-speaks-her.html

(Sent from Flipboard)

Weekend with Dogs

So I went with some friends to their beach cottage, and of course their dogs went with. We had a wonderful dinner and relaxed on the porch and then I crawled into bed, hoping to rest up for a day on the beach.

But at some point in the night my door sllloooooowly crept open, and on soft paws came a dog.

And another.

And another.

I drifted awake feeling vaguely crowded, looked across the bed and saw this:


Three Dobermans sharing my (full-sized) bed!

Tilly was sharing my pillow, Bonnie was using my knees as her pillow, and Duke was staring out the window.

Here is a better shot of Duke:


He looks so pensive. Maybe he wishes he could be outside chasing the bunnies and foxes. Maybe he's remembering the days before he was rescued. Maybe he was planning his next big bark...we will never know.

Bonnie, however, was quite content to be with me:


Either that, or she was protecting me from floating up in the event of a sudden lose of gravity...

Yes, sleeping with three large bed-hogging dogs can be...positionally challenging. On the plus side, eviction is easy.

Just say the magic words, "Breakfast? BREAKFAST!"


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Squee!

Pallas kittehs! SQUEE!





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Sex Scandal in the Mennonite Community

Trigger Warning for rape and assault...

This is horrible:
_____________________
But the nightmare appears to be all too real. Wall is among 130 women and girls of the Mennonite colony in Manitoba Colony, who claim that from 2005 to '09, the same cloudy horror visited them. They're the victims of what is allegedly one of the ugliest sex scandals in the history of the Mennonites, a pacifist Christian Anabaptist denomination founded in Europe in the 1500s, if not Bolivia and South America. In a criminal trial now under way in nearby Santa Cruz, Peter Weiber, 48, a Mennonite veterinarian, is accused of transforming a chemical meant to anesthetize cows into a spray to be used on humans. For four years, Weiber and eight other Mennonite men allegedly sprayed the chemical through bedroom windows in Manitoba at night, sedating entire families and raping the females. One of the men is a fugitive, the others have pleaded not guilty. If convicted, each faces a maximum 30-year prison sentence.
________________________

The age range of victims: 3 to 60.

The problem with closed communities is that the bad is also closed in.

My heart goes out to the victims and their families, and the community.

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Where Children Sleep...

I was reading a wonderful blog and discovered a project of photos showing where children sleep...

Here are a few:

Jasmine, 4, in Kentucky




And Indira, 7, Nepal



The stories they tell can be heartbreaking.

Here is a four year old in Romania:





And Erien, in Rio. She is 14, and slept on the floor until the last stages of her pregnancy...



I'm going to buy the book. Well, as soon as it is back in stock.

See more at The New York Times.

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Found Dog

Thursday I found a dog. He was on the side of the road, skinny and covered in fleas. I stopped the car and raced across the road and he went belly up, tail wagging. I had to carry him to the car, and then carry him out to the SPCA.

Don't worry, they have my number. If they can't find a home for him I've decided I'll name him Paco. Because he looks like a Paco, that's why. Don't judge...


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Guardian ad Litem

I am a Guardian ad Litem. That means I volunteer. I volunteer to go meet with children who have been removed from their homes. And I talk to parents and friends and relatives and counselors and anyone else that might be involved.

And I go to court and I speak for the child.




It has bad moments. Long histories of abuse, broken families, tragedy.

But it also feels good to lend my voice to someone who is silenced. Who is tossed into the fray of buracrecy and competing agendas with no weapons and not even a clue as to what's at stake.

It's well worth the sleepless nights and hours hunched over a computer trying to get a court report just right...

Because it matters. What I say matters. To the life of a child.

So even when I can't sleep, I can still rest easy.

Do it. Call today. Donate some time, be the voice for a child.


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Ancestors

Sometimes I do think of my long line of ancestors...


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Indeed, a shirt to make people keep their distance...





I need to buy several!


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Things that make you say...

Hmm? Is self esteem over rated? (Hint: yes!)

"The modest correlations between self-esteem and school performance do not indicate that high self-esteem leads to good performance. Instead, high self-esteem is partly the result of good school performance. Efforts to boost the self-esteem of pupils have not been shown to improve academic performance and may sometimes be counterproductive."

::YAWN:: Why am I so tired in the mornings?

Since I've had insomnia issues, this one made sense to me, especially this bit:

"7. You get a full night’s sleep but feel groggy all the time or get sleepy while driving.

What it’s a symptom of: This signals circadian rhythm problems or, more simply, getting out of sync with night and day. Irregular sleep patterns, staying up late under bright lights, working a shift schedule, using computers and other devices in bed, and having too much light in the room while you sleep can disrupt your body’s natural sleep-wake cycle."

So staying up late to write blog posts? Not such a great idea, actually...

WTF?! Because housing teen girls with sex offenders makes perfect sense in Kansas...

And

Aww, I want more arms!


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This...

...is my dog:





He is awesome. True fact.

He runs 8 miles with my husband. Because I don't run fast enough, that's why.

Plus, he climbs under the covers and cuddles up tight.

His name is Mac. Or Mac-A-Doo. Or Mac-A-Doodle. Or Doodle. Or Doodle Bug. He also answers to "Cookies!"

And he will chase a tennis ball forever, or until he gets tired, which ever comes first.


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On the Start of 10th Grade

This is it. My last free, school-less weekend. Until sometime next June. One last weekend.

Because next week we start 10th grade! And by "we" I mean my stepson. And me, because we homeschool. (And we are well socialized, thanks for asking!)

But after this weekend we have schedules and lesson plans and tests, oh my!

So I'm going to enjoy today, and tomorrow, by planning nothing...although if I plan to not plan, is that not planning?






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Positive Child Training

Before I became a parent I worked with dogs.

I say this because your typical positive dog training book is very applicable to parenting, and has the added benefit of being clearly written and easier to understand, and is filled with specific techniques for specific problems. Plus, pictures of dogs always makes me smile!

Shaping behavior happens in several ways: you offer something positive for a behavior you want or you offer something negative during a behavior you don't want, removing it immediately when the behavior stops. So, for example, you can buy a kid ice cream or say "Thank you" for cleaning up his room; or you can nagnagnag him until it gets done (the reward is the stopping of the nagging). You can also offer a punishment for not doing it (hand over the car keys!) or take away something good (turn off the TV until the room is clean).

What happens with dogs that doesn't seem to be discussed in parenting books is that every individual has different motivations, and if you aren't offering the right ones you are pretty doomed. So a chart may be fine for an organized personality but will shut down a disorganized one. Corrections, too, need to be tailored. One child only needs a simple "Sweetie, please stop" and they are fine, others need the threat of losing the car. Sometimes it's the same kid, just at different points of life.

I also think dog training is much more compassionate then many parenting books, because a correction is quick, immediate, and over. And then you show what the right thing to do is, and then you reward. There is never a long fight or sloppy emotional outbursts: everything is calm and centered and positive.

What does that look like with a kid? Okay: kid rolls eyes and makes sarcastic remark when asked to do dishes. My response: "That is not respectful. We address each other with kindness and respect. Your answer should be either 'Yes, right away' or 'Okay, but can I wait until this show is over.' Try again." Kid sighs, and then asks to finish watching the show, and--here is the important part--gets to finish watching. Now, yeah, I could march over and just turn off the TV and have a huge fight, but that doesn't get my dishes done. And since I want the immediate response from my kid to be a polite one, I need to reinforce that behavior until it's second nature.

Dog books also are huge on timing. Timing is everything. I reward immediately upon a desirable behavior happening. I mean, within seconds. Too often with children, especially young ones, are offered a reward so far removed from now that it isn't compelling. Getting ice cream after dinner is different than an immediate happy face and thank you.

(I recommend the book "Dont Shoot the Dog" by Karen Pryor. She actually wrote it as a general training book, but it always ends up in the dog section because of the title. Get this book.)

It will also show you how to examine your own behavior and really pay attention to what you are rewarding for, and what behaviors you are punishing for, and how we sometimes are doing the very wrong thing to get the results we want. For an excellent example: my mother trained dogs. And a woman brought her little dog over because (no joke) the dog was biting her toddler. Not just nipping, but latching on. And when asked about what she did when this happened, the woman, very seriously, explained that they only way the dog would let go is if they offered the dog a cookie.

I'll give you a few minutes to absorb that. Reread if you have to, it's really quite genius.

So the dog learned latch on=get cookie. And was constantly being reinforced for that behavior. And so often we reward the wrong behavior in those around us because we aren't paying attention to what is really going on. The lady in the tale I told didn't connect the biting to a desire for a cookie. And sometimes I don't connect my kid's tantrum with the math homework he doesn't want to do...so when he gets banished to his room he's actually been reinforced for the behavior, since it worked--it got him out of math homework. Or a guitar lesson he just isn't prepared for.

All behavior is communication. All of it. It isn't always communicating deep thoughts--sometimes a nose pick is just a nose pick--but it does speak loudly.

The real key is to ask yourself, constantly, "Is this working?", "Is this effective". Because if it isnt, why bother? I know I dont want to keep having the same fight over dirty clothes on the floor or dishes in the sink for the next 5 years. I want to change behavior. So my rule in trying something new is: If I don't see a change within a week-maybe a small change, but a change; or if it works, but makes my child dour and withdrawn, then it needs to stop or be modified.

And one more thing: the Rules are not the same thing as rewards and consequences. The Rule is that we don't hit. The consequences and training may be different for every child, but the Rule never changes.

In my home we have only five Rules:

You Must Be Respectful
You Must Be Safe
You Must Always Let Me Know Where You Are

And, of course, the Supreme Rules:
Rule 1. Darlene is always right.
Rule 2. If Darlene is wrong, see Rule 1.

Everything else is covered under these, and it helps keep communication clear.

So skip the parenting books and head over to the dog section...


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Slut Walk

So, there was this posting on Facebook about SlutWalk and someone (a woman) said, in the comments, this: "If you want to parade around in lingerie, that's your prerogative, but to me it seems a little counterproductive.

While rape isn't avoidable in every situation, I think it would do wonders if we all self-assessed the way we dress and act, and ask ourselves what kind of impression we're giving off to the world."


So, after I patched back together my exploded head, I said this:

No! If I walk around naked, that is NOT AN EXCUSE FOR RAPE. I can be a prostitute and THAT IS NOT AN EXCUSE FOR RAPE. I can be drunk and passed out in my underwear and that IS NOT AN EXCUSE FOR RAPE. People get raped in their cars, by their husbands, by boyfriends and friends and relatives and in their homes and dorm rooms and offices and classroom...what 'common sense' can tell me that locking myself in a room and letting no one in is the safest thing to do? Because we ARE ALWAYS VULNERABLE TO RAPE. Always. Everywhere. Should I avoid the subway to avoid the inevitable gropings and rubbings? Never go on a date? Never wear anything that makes me attractive? No makeup? Wear a paper bag? Never be in the same room with a man or men?







The only thing that causes rape is BEING IN THE VICINITY OF A RAPIST. Period. Anyone who is suggesting anything else is using a form of rape-apology. Anyone who says "oh, it's the rapist fault, BUT..." is using a form of rape apology.

The impression I give to the world HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BEING RAPED. Grandmothers and nuns and children get raped, so can we all agree to drop the pretense that some people are somehow 'at fault' for being raped and move on to the startling fact that rapists cause rape, and stop the victim blaming-and-shaming.

Yup, Slut Walk is needed, because even women buy into the myth that what I wear contributes to being raped. That not dressing like a slut is some kind of magical protection.
__________________________

And then someone said this:
"While children, nuns, etc. DO get raped, I think it's fairly logical/reasonable to say that the ratio of skantily-clad drunk women in clubs who get raped is much higher than their nun/child counterparts, because they're engaging in risky behavior."

And my head, again, exploded.

And I ranted more, but this says it better:




The end.

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(I hope the images are okay to post, I found them doing searches, but if they aren't please let me know and I'll take them down)

Who Wants Normal?

As I was growing up I was taught--you might want to sit for this one--that being normal was something to be vaguely ashamed about. It showed no imagination, being like everyone else. It required following instead of leading.

My dad was a rebel in a suit and tie. He loved challenging deeply held beliefs, things I brought home from school, from church. He made me look at things from all sides, and then I could stick with it or not. But I had to examine it. I had to support and defend it.

And what I didn't like I was supposed to change. Or stop complaining about it. Those were my choices.

My Mom was a different type of rebel. She wore tees with feminist sayings, her boobs bouncing because she hated bras. She would, in the middle of a bank or library or restaurant, loudly challenge someone who had said something cruel or racist. She was a Jew, and had grown up with stories of how her family left Europe before Hitler reached them. She heard stories of the ones who didn't get out. And she knew that letting hate go unchallenged was the fastest way to see it happen again.

Someone mistreating an animal would find this small, round woman in their faces. She confronted parents, cops, random people: anyone doing evil, she'd say, needs to faced. She was fierce and fearless and brave.








So while, yeah, I wanted to wear what other kids were wearing and wanted a boyfriend when other girls had them, I also loved having the unpopular opinion. I took on teachers (and was backed by my father when I could convince him I was right, or at least not wrong), I was on the debate team, I sided with underdogs. I fought the system when I could.

So as a parent, albeit a step, I don't get why parents want their kids to fit in. To belong. To be just like everyone else. I always thought being different was cooler, that looking towards yourself for approval was healthier then looking to a peer group: especially a peer group of unsocialized* teens.

Stand out; do what's right, not what's popular; speak up for those who have no voice; be yourself; be different...

Normal requires no imagination, it's the stifling of imagination.



*Socialization: this word does not mean what you think it means. As a homeschooler I hear cries about it all. The. Time. Real socialization is teaching kids how to be adults. Kids have to be around adults to do this. Kids don't learn to be adults from other kids. Their most influential people should be the adults in their lives, not a bunch of kids who don't know anything. Just saying.


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Safe Playgrounds

So I was reading this post about playgrounds being too safe and all I could think of was the very unsafe, free range, happy childhood I had.

As someone who played tag on the roof of her house, climbed trees and rocks, and very often had three kids piled onto one bicycle (one on the handlebars, one on the seat, and one standing to pedal and steer) if there isn't a risk of hurt it's just not that much fun. What's the point? And what happens when there is real risk--like driving a car. How will our kids have any perspective of genuine risk assessment when they've never taken one?


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My teen

darlene (@dypineda)

My teen just kicked me out of the kitchen so he could clean up #mykidisAWESOME


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Blame the Victim?

So I read this post about "You're doing exactly what you want to do"

"So if you're not doing something, you may think you want to, but you don't really want to.
....
And to look at the reverse, it's also true that whatever you're doing right now, you want to be doing"

http://dramyjohnson.com/2011/07/youre-doing-exactly-what-you-want-to-do/

Nah, I'm waving the "Voice of Privilege" flag. I know plenty of people who actually do want to eat, but have no money. Who do want to work, but have few skills or live in an area where there just aren't any jobs. Plenty of people who would love to quit their soul-stealing jobs, but paying rent and buying enough food so their kid doesn't starve is more important. Woman who were pressed into prostitution, wives who are terrified of leaving their abusive spouse. People who'd like to go to a doctor but have no insurance and no money.

Crap like this is a blame the victim mentality, where those with privilege can sit back and ignore those who are struggling with the claim that they must want to be there.

And I have a friend who'd love to run a marathon, but his broken back won't let him, no matter how much he wants it.

Yes, yes, if you have the physical, financial, and mental abilty with no other extenuating circumstances then, yes, you probably could run that marathon if you wanted it bad enough. But much of our lives run on sheer luck: our financial status at birth, our race and gender, our mental capabilities, much of our personality...to imply that everyone could be an opera singer if they just tried hard enough...or a gymnast, or a pro-golfer, or whatever, discounts genetics and background and talents and ability to learn and the quality of schools and the racism or sexism one has faced and the environment one lives in and another hundred or so random factors that play a role in our lives.

I'm not going to sneer at the single mom who works two jobs to survive because she's to tired to go run a quick 15 miles to train for a marathon. It isn't about her wanting it bad enough, it's about having a life that has no room for what she wants. And that isn't just on her. Or him. L
______________

I'm also going to say that, having run a marathon, anyone who says it isn't hard or isn't an effort doesn't know what they are talking about. It's a year or more of training, of running 30-60 (or more) miles a week. Which a huge investment of time. I did one, and it was an effort. My husband runs at least one a year, about to run his sixth, and it is still hard, it's still an effort. Yes, he wants it, but that doesn't negate the amazing amounts of work and practice that go into it.

And to claim that it isn't hard or an effort both diminishes the experiences of those who did find it hard, and undermines the confidence of those who are trying and find it difficult and hard and an effort.
______________

The reply to my comment included this bit:

"My point is that it's still a choice. I don't believe the universe forces us into many corners in life. Our options may be limited but in most normal circumstances, we have some sort of choice we can make. The prostitute you say was forced into prostitution wasn't really forced. She may have seen no other way out—that's absolutely true. She may have FELT forced in her own mind, but she wasn't literally forced into the choice. She made the choice."

That almost made my head explode. Really, almost explode.

Because people are forced into prostitution. And if a person sees no other way out, how is she (or he) not being forced into the choice? Besides the fact that many people are literally forced...

To which I said (and I've corrected the typos here):

A choice between starving and a keeping a crappy job is not a choice.

And if you really think woman aren't forced into prostitution, I suggest you google white slavery and do some research. Woman (and men) are being brought into this and other countries and, yes, being forced into prostitution, under threats of death and violence. That isn't a choice. Nor is claiming a 14 yo runaway actually has a choice when picked up by a pimp, beaten and raped, and then put on the streets doing that because she wants it. That's a misogynistic, blame the victim attitude that is morally abhorrent.

This is coming from a very privileged place where decisions aren't made for you, and where you actually have options. But someone with depression or an addiction or cancer can't just will away the disease. The universe doesn't force us into any corners, our society does. Our environment does. Our gender and race and religion do. We so not have as many choices as you seem to think.

Because watch my child starve isn't a 'choice', that isn't a 'trade-off'. It is being forced into a situation where I am in a corner, where there is one option and maybe it isn't a good one.

Lucky for those who have money and privilege who never live in a world without choice.

This is no different than faith healing, and just as harmful. If you wanted to walk, you would have prayed harder. If you didn't want to get raped, you would have fought harder. You're a prostitute, unemployed, diseased, ill, starving because you wanted to be. Your fault.

You talk about 'normal circumstances', but those are actually privileged circumstances. There is nothing normal about them.
____________________

What really bothers me is that study after study show that what we think are autonomous decisions are heavily influenced by our surroundings. Starting with The Stanford Prison Experiment (http://www.prisonexp.org/) we see that people don't just decide to do things, they are nudged and influenced by everything around them. And to then put the weight of their decisions solely on them is unfair.

I see this very much in the talk around obesity and drug use and sexuality and even welfare and unemployment. There is this one attitude that all those people are there because they must want to be, they didn't do enough to not be there, and so we, as a society, have no reason to have any compassion towards them. They deserve what they get. Pregnant? That's what you get for being a slut, live with the consequences. Raped? Ditto. Fat? Forget about poverty and food deserts and safe places to exercise and being healthy even when overweight and another dozen or so things; you deserve to be dismissed by doctors and insulted by airlines and mocked by people on the street.

I am not saying there is no personal responsibility, I'm saying that it only one element among a myriad of factors. And this particular brand of "you don't want it enough" is damaging to hear.

What do you think?

Teaching the Gifted

This is a true story. Several true stories, actually.

Teacher to Parent of a gifted child: "Please stop letting your son learn math, he's getting too far ahead and soon I'll have nothing for him to do."

No, seriously. I know, when I first heard this, I thought for sure the teacher was joking. But parent after parent shared the same story: 

"Stop teaching your child."
"Don't let them learn anymore."
"If you let them get to far ahead they'll be bored in class."

This to parents of four and five year old kids. Little kids who are still sponges, absorbing everything.

"Don't let her read ahead in the book, you need to take it away when she's done with the assignment."

How does a parent STOP a kid from wanting to learning? And what happens when such terrible advice is ignored?

I understand that schools have limited resources, and that gifted programs and being slashed. I get that a teacher teaches to the average, and that it is rare to have a teacher with any experience with gifted kids, let alone the skills to manage such a child(ren). But any adult who can't provide some worksheets beyond basic addition  boggles the mind. And any school that tries to hold a child back instead of promoting them or finding a way to push them further is doing all their students a grave disservice.

I once joined a parent in an advocacy role, trying to get a very smart 2nd grader promoted to fourth instead of redoing the same stuff in third grade. I sat across from the principal who informed me that she "Didn't believe in grade promotion." 

First, every study done shows that grade promotion is a good thing. It can keep a child from completely turning off and dropping out, it provides advanced materials and academic peers, and it provides a more appropriate education.

Second, it exists. Grade promotion is a real and true thing. It doesn't matter if principal "believes" in it, it still exists. Unlike ESP or ghosts or big foot, it is not a question of belief.



Which tells me this particular principle did not keep up with educational studies; did not follow the science; and did not even have a true understanding of the vocabulary she used. And she has been failing to meet the needs of the children under her care for the entire 20 years of her career. 

So, keep 'em all on the same road. Don't deviate, don't allow for the natural range of talent and skill. And outliers must be punished.

Because what happens when a parent can't figure out how to stop her child from learning?

Well, for one Mother, an arrest. Yes, you read that correctly. A mother was arrested for "Endangering the Welfare of a Minor". What did this terrible mother do? Let her four year old learn more math than his kindergarten teacher was able to handle.

A teacher was so angry that a student was learning she asked for legal intervention: TO STOP THE STUDENT FROM LEARNING. Got that? Are we clear now?

So the next time the school system complains about disinterested students, remind them where those students learned it from...

Insomnia

I used to think I was an insomniac.

I'm not. I just don't like to go to sleep at 9 pm.

Seems silly, but I was ready to try serious sleeping pills because if eleven rolled around and I was awake: PANIC! OMG I'm never going to sleep AGAIN!

And I wouldn't.

And then, clarity. I. Am. A. Night. Owl. For reals. I always have been, but I forgot, somewhere along the line. And I did have some justified and righteous sleepless nights, but the reason for them stopped and my own worry took over and then the worry was so big I couldn't see around it. So I went to my doctor and got a small prescription, for a sleep aid I took hesitantly. It seemed like a copout, but this had dragged on for years already, and I needed sleep!

And I got some, and my rested brain realized: I. Am. A. Night. Owl. I like being up in the dark, in the quiet. I have always loved reading my way to sleep, finishing a book and snuggling beneath covers to dream the story I just read. Or staying up late, talking deep talks and silly thoughts with friends until the conversation collapsed in exhaustion and stumble off into sleep we'd go...

And if I fall asleep between two and threeish am, and I wake at nine to stumble to the kitchen and feed the dogs and pour some coffee and start the day, I'm good. I feel...rested. Happy.

Yes, I will still pick an occasional too-long book that sends me to sleep to late, and I'll wake uber-groggy and a bit snarly. Or I'll have a thought my brain can't let go of--usually something I need to do, or should do, or would be a good idea to do, but that I am hesitant to do for one reason or another--that keeps me tossing and turning and disturbing the trying-to-sleep cats. But that is not insomnia. That's an occasional bad night.

The problem wasn't not being able to sleep, the problem was going to bed when I wasn't tired, which (hold back the surprise!) led to not sleeping right away, which led to the PANICS! and the not sleeping, ever.

But.

I am not, actually, an insomniac.

And the moral is: don't be afraid to ask for help. And medicine is often good for you, don't be afraid to take it. And, sometimes, you are just asking the wrong question.

Fishing for gall bladders

In the mail today, an ad for Carolina Surgical:

"Over 48 years of experience with -plasties, -ectomies, -oscopies, and -opsies."

Am I supposed to be sitting in my living room, flipping through my mail, and glance at the card and suddenly think, "OMG! I've been wanting a spleenectomy or a liver biopsy, but neither I nor my doctor had any idea of where I could have such a procedure. Now, I feel safe placing my life in the hands of these people, smiling up at me on this advertising postcard!"

Oh, wait, upon further reading, it says "almost 50 years of combined experience." So, if we have 4 surgeons that means one could have 20 years, one 10, and the other two 5ish? Or ten years each?

I seem too get these glossy cards from three main sources: churches, auto/tire repair shops, and medical practioners. Three groups I would think would be most likely to do best by to by word-of-mouth.

On the plus side, if I ever do just decide I've put off that double mastectomy or hernia operation long enough, I have a number to call...

Next up, Sewing!

I want to learn to sew. I’ve decided. Oh, I’ve whipped up a curtain or two…but I want to really sew.

Step One: find sewing machine.

Step Two: find instruction manual so I can finally figure out how the underneath-thingy that holds the thread works.

Step Three: admit I can’t find the instruction manual, try to work the underneath-thingy anyway.

Step Four: pound head on desk in frustration.

Step Five: pound sewing machine on desk in frustration.

Step Six: break sewing machine.

Step Seven: go to store and buy new, MUCH BETTER ANYWAY sewing machine, SO THERE OLD SEWING MACHINE THAT DIDN’T WORK ANYWAY, PFHHT. One with an instruction manual THAT I CAN FIND.

Step Eight: sew. All kinds of stuff

On second thought, maybe I should just skip steps 1-6…