Juggling Life

In Which I Shamelessly Use My Impending 50th Birthday to Beg for Something

As you may know, I am in countdown mode to my 50th birthday. T-8 days to be precise. I was pretty angsty about the whole thing for about nine months and then I just sort of realized that it was happening regardless (God willing and the creek don't rise) and the internal whinging was not going to make a damn bit of difference so I ought to just move on. And I did. 

But . . .

50 IS a big birthday and it would be a shame to let it pass without some sort of bloggy celebration; after all I've been doing this since I was but a young woman of 42. (Good. Grief.) 

(Insert smooth transition that is just not happening for me writing-wise right now.)

A pretty amazing thing happened today; this piece was published on Yahoo. If you remember, the beginning of all of this was just last week, so it's been quite a whirlwind. The thing I'm most pleased about is all the new recruits to my long-dreamed of Twitter Army of Eating Disorder Awareness Advocates and Activists. People are beginning to believe!

What does this have to do with my birthday?

This journalist, Beth Greenfield, did a fantastic job with the piece; she asked insightful questions and her story reflects what we talked about--that's not always a given. I would love for her editor to see that a story like this--one that raises awareness and highlights advocacy--can generate traffic. 

To that end . . .

For my birthday, I would like all of you--regular commenters, intermittent readers and lurkers alike--to leave a comment on the Yahoo piece. If you would like to put icing on that birthday cake of mine, you could also retweet me--@jugglingjenn--as I am looking to take this story even further; national coverage would be a dream come true.

To get the message out that eating disorders are deadly diseases with a strong neurobiological component and deserve the evidence-based treatment and insurance coverage that is a given for other medical conditions is what I REALLY want for my birthday. 

Will you help a sister out? 

P.S. YES, you do have to have a Yahoo account to comment. It takes less than 30 seconds to sign up. I love you!

 

 

 

Thinking out Loud

The night of the George Zimmerman verdict, I was on Twitter--reading and tweeting and sharing a sense of anguish with many of my fellow Americans. Then I had an exchange that led to me deciding to shut my mouth for a bit (and I may have gone one tweet too far before I did it--Twitter as a medium does not promote thinking before speaking).

Since that night I have really been wondering--what is my place in this conversation? 

I came across a link to this article on Twitter and hoped it would have some answers for me. I'm not sure it does (I just can't agree with everything she says) and I'm not sure there is one. I actually found the discussion in the comments to be reassuring as it seems there is not just one school of thought (duh, right?) among people of color on how white people can best help fight racism.

I am of the opinion (and I believe that this thought itself might be deemed re-centering on whiteness), that nothing will change in this country until everyone that sees the injustices speak out against racism. While I do not and can not experience racism as a person of color would, I think I can and do practice empathy for those that are potential casualties of a racist society, I educate myself, I engage in difficult conversations about race with people from many places in my life, and I raise my voice as part of the chorus of Americans who are saying enough is enough.

Now whether or not I know I'm doing the "right" thing is small potatoes in the hierarchy of issues in this situation. I get that. In no way am I conflating this worry rolling around in my brain with the far-greater struggles faced by those that are on the front-lines and in the trenches of the fight against the systemic and institutionalized fight against racism in this country, but it is something I am pondering.

At my workplace, I was the only white person to bring up the verdict the Monday after it came down. I was certainly alone in engaging in dialogue and trading postings, videos and articles about Zimmerman and Trayvon with my black co-workers.

One woman and I spoke at length, and on several occasions, about many of these issues (including the work she is doing in her community and my one-woman crusade to get the less enlightened members of my extended family to educate themselves before forming opinions and sharing racist images on FB) and one day she was sharing with me her outrage over black hip-hop artists, their use of the n-word and their negative (her word) influence on black culture and especially on black teenage boys.

I have a very strong opinion about rap music and misogynistic lyrics, but I did say to her, "I think that's one issue I, as a white person, don't get to have an opinion on. You take that one up with your people and I'll keep working on Paula Deen with my people."

Sometimes all you can do is the best you can do; I think I'll have to keep doing that.

P.S. Go see Frutivale Station--you probably already know the story of Oscar Grant, but this movie will help you FEEL the injustice and horror of what happened--and what continues to happen.

 

 

 

Time Warp Tuesday: Teenage Boys-"Ours and Theirs"

I know it's Wednesday, but what the hell. In addition to the normal craziness of life, my boss "left her job" Monday and that was the tail end of some serious drama. In addition, the news has had me preoccupied and not in a good way--more in a seriously ranty way.

Be sure to visit Karen and Gary for some more traditional Time Warp posts.

 

My boys as teenagers/young men (17 and 20)

Since I know that none of you live under a rock, I won't give any background for this post beyond "Trayvon Martin."

I have tweeted and posted many things in the last few days*, but I think this tweet hits the nail on the head with where my rage is coming from.

Not Just Any Jenn ‏@jugglingjenn16 Jul

@LouisatheLast White teens have "scrapes" with authorities; kids of color get suspended, expelled, arrested-all for the same infractions.

It is time for all of America to wake up to this injustice--to own and acknowledge it. It is real. It is pervasive. It is wrong. 

My boys--those almost comically "All-American" looking (we need to broaden the definition of All-American for sure) guys in that photo had scrapes. They were not/are not perfect. They've both been pulled over by the police and never once did the thought cross their minds they might be shot. I didn't have to buy them bright-orange wallets so that they are easily identifiable as something other than a gun when someone in authority wants to see their licenses.

They've walked down streets in their own neighborhood and other people's neighborhoods wearing hoodies and were never once considered "suspicious." Sadly, my oldest son's friend from down the street--the friend who has lived here since second grade--cannot say the same. I have answered inqutires from neighbors on at least five ocassions asking what I thought of the sketchy-looking black teenager loitering about. I am not kidding. One person even told me she'd heard a rumor he was a Katrina refugee. Since second grade, people-that is 16 years.

My brother-in-law feels a fair verdict was rendered and in a discussion on FB, he said that neither his son or my sons would have gotten into a physical altercation with George Zimmerman. I can't speak for his son, but I will tell you that while I doubt either of my boys would have instigated a physical confrontation, if they were pushed to defend themselves (maybe by, I don't know, being scared half out of their wits by some stalker dude whose intentions were unknown), either one of them would have beaten the living crap out of the other guy. Being MMA fans themselves, ground and pound would certainly have been a possibility. And that would have been their right--they would have been acting, as I believe Trayvon was, in self-defense. (Unless self-defense only applies if you use a firearm; I'm baffled).

The other thing I know for sure is that if Zimmerman were black and Trayvon was white and the same verdict was rendered, there would have been rioting in the streets. White people are just not used to injustices being perpetrated upon them the way black people are, that's the only explanation I have for the relative peacefullness of the demonstrations.

I sure hope this is not over; my only consolation (and a very cold one for sure for TM's family) will be if Trayvon's name is mentioned in history books alongside the likes of Emmett Till, the victims of the 16th street Baptist Church bombing and other innocents whose lives were lost along the path toward civil rights.

We can no longer let the racist voices of those clinging for dear life to white privilege be the most vocal in our society. Now is the time for all of us to act--if you're not part of the solution, you are part of the problem.

 

*You can friend me on FB if you want access to all sorts of links and discussion. I put up some relevant and powerful information, if I do say so myself. And I do.

 

 

 

 

Body Image: The Myth of Thin as a Universal Ideal

When one has both a daughter with anorexia and a looming milestone birthday, one gives a lot of thought to body image and how f*ed up about their own body image most women are.*

I have been shocked to find that something I have believed my whole life has turned out not to be true and I'm pretty irritated I spent the better part of fifty years believing it. I accepted without question the idea that virtually all men only find women within a very narrow size range--a size range I haven't seen since I first got pregnant--attractive.

I'm not going to say that's the only reason that I've worried about my weight over the years or wasted time with woulda, coulda, shoulda when it comes to diet and exercise, but it's definitely been a factor. Who wants to feel that if they were in the market for a guy, they wouldn't merit a second-glance from anyone until they starved themselves down to a "desirable" weight? 

I'm also not saying my weight in general has been at the top of my things-that-occupy-space-in-my-crazy-full-brain, but it hasn't been at the bottom either.

It's been an utter shock to get out into the world--armed with a flattering wardrobe and some kick-ass shoes--and to realize that there are men that find me--a solid size 14--to be worth a second glance. And not in a you'd-be-pretty-if-you-lost-weight kind of way, but in a you-look-pretty-damned-good-the-way-you-are kind of way.

I think it took me six months to pick up on it when I was being flirted with--and a couple of more before I realized it was totally okay for me to flirt back even though I'm not a size eight. What a revelation.

 Edited to add:

I finished writing this post and went to read a few blogs; I came across a post written by a gorgeous woman in her forties. She has a body that I guarantee all of you would consider thin--or at the very least, thin enough (whatever that means). The post was about weight loss. This was my comment.

I think we should work harder at accepting ourselves than we do at changing ourselves--unless there is a medical reason to lose weight, don't. Accept yourself--exercise because it makes you feel better, don't eat too much crap because it makes you feel bad and love yourself unconditionally. If you can do it for your kids, you should be able to do it for their mother.

I believe this, and while I wish I'd known it for the last few decades, at least I've got the next few to live it.

 * If you are interested in other perspectives on body image, Jen on the Edge is doing a lot of writing on the subject and she is also involved in a Facebook group, The Eleanor Project, that I am loving. I snapchat photos fron their site to Social Butterfly frequently.  

Edited again to add: I ran this post by the aforemention, Jen, because I was afraid of sounding cougar-ish (I am not) or otherwise inappropriate. She assured me I do not, but suggested I just throw that out there, so you know what I was thinking. As many of Jen's ideas are, that was a good one. 

 

 

 

NOW, can we talk about it?

On Saturday, a long-time reader emailed me. She knew I would likely be writing about the shootings in Connecticut and she wanted to share a post her sister-in-law had written. I hope you click through; her idea is to send her photo Christmas card to politicians urging them to consider passing sensible legislation on the issue of gun control.

I love this idea and will be doing it.

Last week I was asking you to weigh in on sartorial choices and quipped about all my airport runs. Social Butterfly came home Thursday, Mr. Fix-it late Friday afternoon and Danger Boy Friday night. MVP will be home Wednesday; Grownup Girl and Grownup Guy are already here.

I will have my family home for Christmas. We will take a picture and I will rush to edit it and order cards from Costco and get them out if not in time for Christmas, then for New Year’s.

My heart breaks for those families in Connecticut; it is a cliché, but it is the only statement I can make that comes close to expressing what I feel.

Equal to my heartbreak is the rage I feel that this society seems beholden to the notion that we are not allowed to discuss gun control. That the NRA calls the shots for all of us. That taking on the right to bear arms without significant and sensible restriction is verboten. 

I know the issue is not only gun control. I know that access to mental health is a huge piece of the puzzle. It only makes sense that letting out children watch violent movies at impressionable ages cannot be good for them. And we should address those issues, we really should. 

But right now, today, we should demand that guns--specifically the ones that are weapons of mass destruction--be kept out of the hands of those who have no reasonable need to possess them. As this tragedy unfolded, I sat at work watching clips on CNN. I shared what was happening with those that came to use the copier. I had a discussion with the retired law enforcement officer that runs the Criminal Justice program. I her I am not anti-gun and that I understand that the second amendment plays a part in our rights to possess firearms and that there are those that hunt for food and sport, but why on god's green earth does a hunter need to possess any weapon other than a plain old rifle to hunt deer. She shrugged and said sarcastically, "It must be in case the deer is also armed."

I am ashamed of myself that it took the slaughter of 20 innocent Kindergartners before I felt compelled to really raise my voice about this. I feel like I was a lobster placed in cold water that is now beginning to boil.

My children have never known a society where they weren't prepared in the even of a lockdown (basically a euphemism for school shooter). I have huddled under tables with first-graders during a lockdown drill. I told my own children to ignore the school's direction to hide in the bathroom if that's where they were when the lockdown happened and all the bungalow doors were locked. "Run and hide in the trees," I told them, "you'd be a sitting duck in the bathroom." "Run in a zig-zag pattern because you're harder to shoot that way." I remember the neighbor girl hiding with her classmates in the bushes as a helicopther hovered overhead when an actual lockdown happened due to an unfolding police chase.

I accepted this as reality because I accepted that Americans would never do anything about virtually unfettered access to firearms due to all the loopholes and shortcomings in our laws today.

I refuse to accept this reality any longer. No automatic or semi-automatic weapons should be in the hands of non-police, non-military personnel. There should be waiting periods and background checks and home visits and psychiatric evaluations before you can get a gun. If you do own a gun, the penalty for you allowing your weapon to fall into someone else's hands should be severe--up to you being charged as an accessory if your weapon is used by someone to commit a crime.

Our Constitution and Bill of Rights are living, breathing principles subject to change as the world changes. Semi-automatic rifles used to slay innocent babies en masse are not what our founding fathers had in mind when they crafted the second amendment.

This is enough.

 P.S. I have at least one reader who is very pro-second amendment and a gun enthusiast. She is a smart woman with whom I've had several discussions on various issues; I like her very much. It is my hope she will contribute her thoughts and that it will be possible to have rational discourse on this topic. I hope the comments are passionate but respectful. 

I often have back and forths on Facebook with my BIL who lives in MIssissippi and a friend in Seattle both of whom have very different views than I do on most social issues; we generally end up finding some common ground and we always keep it civil. The world needs more of these discussion.

P.P.S. I have to proactively present a counterargument for the common clalim that the real problem is that nobody at the school was armed. First off, a Kindergarten teacher with a gun is about the scariest thing I can imagine. In order to have it ready to use in case of an attack those children would be in constant danger of an accidental shooting. I shudder thinking about it. Additionally, being a well-trained gun enthusiast sure didn't prevent Adam Lanza's mother from being murdered. I cannot fathom how anybody could possibly think that more guns in the hands of more peole is the answer to this problem.

Sometimes low-key is the way to be . . .

I am not a person that clings to "this is the way we always do it." That's a sure path to disappointment.

So I'm pretty happy with whatever permutation of Thanksgiving ends up happening as long as there are mashed potatoes, pie and wine. And there always seems to be. Yesterday's festivities included a long bike ride, no dressing up (I wore my fave old softball all-stars sweatshirt all day) and my girls making me laugh so hard I was in tears. Of course, there were phone calls to MVP and Danger Boy because they weren't with us. 

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because I love family and food and a house full of people in a celebratory mood. 

I am so distressed about this year's move to have more and more stores open on Thanksgiving. My reasons for opposing this move are two-fold. First, it puts materialism before anything else. "Things" before "people" is the way I interpret this crazy, obsessive need to shop. Secondly, it shows no compassion or empathy for those that work retail and their right to enjoy their families. 

The backdrop to my annoyance is that I surmise that the decision-makers that have started this are Republicans. You know, the party of family values. Because nothing says "we value your family" like making you miss Thanksgiving with your family so that American consumers can fill their gaping maws of material desire 12 hours sooner than they might otherwise. 

 

 

Because I CARE . . .

I really need this election to be over. I am absolutely addicted to Twitter these days-- I have been on Twitter since August 2011 and have never been that into it. I refuse to read anything about polls because if I'm going to believe them when my guy's up, I have to believe it when their guy's up. And that's just too hard to contemplate. 

I think this election is absolutely a referendum on keeping a system predicated on white privilege and I think the root of most people's dislike of Obama is impacted by race whether they believe it or not. If Obama was a white man doing these same things, he would never have been as vilified from day one by the right. His status as POTUS goes against what they believe to be the natural order of things--upper class, middle-aged white men running everything. 

How could anyone but them want to go back to the "good old days"? They weren't very good for women or people of color. Or gays. Or really anyone different than the gold standard--upper-class white boys and men. Sure, those days are remembered fondly by a rich bully who never knew a nano-second of insecurity about anything. Not so much by the boys who didn't dodge the draft and ended up in wheelchairs upon returning from Vietnam. 

Again, I believe this election is a referendum.

A referendum on what the soul of America is. I hope we go with Barack Obama's vision of that soul and not of Mitt Romney's. Actually, I pray we do. 

 

Perspective Takes a Twist

I was sitting at my desk the other day when a student walked through the office accompanied by her little ones, the youngest an adorable toddler who drunken-sailor walked down the hall in that way that reminds you exactly why children that age are called toddlers.

I mused aloud to the work-study student who was doing some filing for me, "I can't wait until I have grandkids."

Her response took me just a bit aback. "You don't have any grandchildren yet?!"

I don't know that I was looking for any response in particular, more just expecting us to heartily agree that toddlers are indeed adorable, but had I been looking for something in particular, that sentiment would not have been it.

With the panicked thought that I might not want to know the answer to the question, I laughed, "How old do you think I am?"

"Early forties?"

Those two words were quite welcome, I'll tell you. And then I thought, "Wait, what, how would I be more likely than not to have grandchildren at that age?" Then I realized that her cultural norm is two babies by the age of twenty. 

Kind of makes you think about how a woman's economic status is directly related to her ability to delay and control her childbearing. This is not where I was going at all, when I started this post, but even if you're one of those undecided or Romney voters that consider economic issues to trump issues of social justice like women's access to medical care, you've got to see the connection between early childbirth and lower socioeconomic status. Right?

So, yeah, this started out a light-hearted post that hints at the niggling little distaste I'm beginning to have toward getting older (though always realizing it beats the alternative), but took a direction all its own. It's almost like I'm worried about the election or something. 

 

I've got a Binder . . .

Binder Full of Women . . . 

For some reason that's set to the tune of Pocket Full of Sunshine in my imagination. Lots of people have had lots to say about that sound bite, so I wasn't going to weigh in (flip comment on this post aside), but since a couple of you asked me to . . .

I was running late coming home from work Thursday night so only had to time to drop my purse and push the power button on my laptop before the debate started. The laptop was important because I must say that my favorite thing about The Twitter is that it provides a plethora of hysterically funny snark during events such as the Oscars and Presidential Debates. The fact much of the snark is also insightful adds to the pleasure.

Right off the bat I'm pretty pleased because unlike the first debate my candidate seems to be ON. That's a relief.

Then the frustration begins when, in my opinion, Mitt Romney will not answer a single question. My intelligence is already insulted from the feeling that he considers it plausible, even likely, that his vague assertions of "my plan will give you that" and "I'm not going to cut that" are supposed to be accepted by voters.

On first pass, the binder full of women comment whizzed by me as I was immediately stunned by the follow up about the need for a flexible schedule for women because of their responsibilities at home.

I may have actually said aloud (though I was the only one home), "Did Mitt Romney just tell me I should be able to leave work early enough to fix my man some dinner? 'Cause that's what it sounds like he just f***king said."

As the evening went by I read lots of tweets referring to the binder full of women and before the debate was over, I'd visited the genius Tumblr HeyVeronica had up so quickly after the remark was made that one can do nothing but gape in awe and hope she makes the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Certainly her moxie and intellect make a comical counterpoint to Mitt's assertion that he had to go looking for qualified women; apparently in all his time before becoming governor he never encountered (or if he encountered them he didn't remember them) smart, talented, well-qualified women. It rather boggles the mind. 

I was never going to like Mitt Romney's politics--but I never expected to so intensely dislike Mitt and Ann Romney. Every time I hear either one of them speak I have a visceral sense that they cannot fathom their privilege and their luck and therefore they are 100%  not qualified to be any part of running this country. None whatsoever. 

They seem to live in some parallel, behind-the-gates community where it's still the 1950s and women, people of color and the poor are considered second-class citizens whose needs and desires deserve no consideration and must be kept in their places at all times and costs and the white, male patriarchy's mission is to perpetuate itself.

I know that there are intelligent women I like and respect who will vote for Mitt Romney. I cannot understand it. I cannot ask them because it would be rude and and if I asked them I would be compelled to rebut their assertions;  in a month this election will be over and they will still be my friends and neighbors, so I will not go there. But I do not and can not begin to fathom how they can consider doing this to themselves and their daughters.

Bad Mom wrote a post about white privilege that I wish the Romneys would read. They probably won't, but you ought to. Like Bad Mom, I will never forget to be grateful to the women that came before me in the feminist movement and created a country that allowed me to follow my dreams--no less a wonderful gift because my dreams were fairly traditional and involved a husband and kids. 

Today my dream is that President Obama gets reelected; because a country run by the unempathetic likes of Mitt Romney sounds like a nightmare to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Parents Weekend! Also known as matching t-shirt weekend.*

You gotta love any weekend that involves this view . . . 

 

The view from Snow Bowl ski resort. Taken with my iPhone and edited on the phone with Snapseed.  I would never have thought I could get this good of a photo from my phone, but had no choice as I forgot my big girl camera at home.

 can't be all bad (even if driving 16 hours for a 36-hour visit is a bit of a whirlwind).

Kinsey's friend MagMag made the drive with us and it ended up that the only sleep she got the entire weekend was the time she was in the car. In a wonderful coincidence, it turned out my stepdad and two stepsisters were in town for a wedding (a cousin's third, so the guest list was smallish) and when T saw my posts on FB about being in Flagstaff, she called me and we joined the party. It was a lovely surprise.

(I didn't realize I hate my bangs until I saw the pics from this weekend. Checking in with my hairdresser tomorrow on a possible remedy.)

The highlight of the weekend was a dinner Social Butterfly arranged at Red Lobster with several of her friends and their parents. Their were 21 of us and it was great fun to eat, drink and chat with both the parents we already knew and the ones we just met. It's cool to get to see you child's group of friends. We didn't meet all her friends (she's putting the social in SB), but the ones we did meet are terrific kids.

SB might pick another restaurant next time though--recovering anorexics aren't big fans of the gusto with which some people savor their King Crab legs. And no, they don't really want a cheesy biscuit. But the girls did enjoy dinner in a restaurant and that's something indeed.

I had a care package delivery for my neighbor's son, a junior at NAU, and called him to see when I could come by his place. We had one of those very strange conversations that only makes sense when you find out that one of you is missing certain background knowledge. In this case it was the knowledge that I had a box from his mom for him. Without that piece my desire to swing by and check out his new apartment seemed a bit odd--though I've got to give him for staying polite even when he must have thought I was nuts.

I'm glad I did make it to his apartment. Otherwise I might never have known such a thing as this existed.

As I said when I posted this on Facebook: I may not have had to walk five miles to school, uphill both ways, in the snow back in the day, but I did have to play beer pong on a plain ol' kitchen table. Kids today. 

The entire weekend reminded me of how lucky we are in so many respects; to have all of our kids getting an education, for SB to be doing so well and for us having the privilege of being able to visit her and both meet and enjoy her friends.

What's got you feeling lucky?

 

*We bought NAU shirts, but didn't wear them. Being matchy-matchy with an entire city full of people just isn't our style.