Obama Gives My Mom Headaches

Those who voted for Barack Obama to become president of the U.S. expect a savior; those who did not, view him as the national antagonist. My mother says he is a control freak that will lead this country into socialism. She complains this foresight is causing her to have headaches. Why can’t she see his good intentions?

Americans voted President Obama into office. The majority must agree with his intentions. We must agree with the means he is willing to use to make this a better country. We must agree that we have done a good job fucking things up and need someone in control who has the sight for recovery.

My mother mentions the GM bailout as an example. Obama allocated funds that would go to the company to save it from failing after having been in business all these years; however, the company would have to abide by certain stipulations. My mother says this is too much control for the government to have, that this kind of deliverance will smash capitalism. I disagree. Would it have been better to let the company fail causing millions of people to loose their job during a recession that is devastating our country?

Would it have been better for my friend to let my family go through hardship when he could have helped us through it? The bailout can be compared to some help we received recently. One of the cars in my household dyed. Without a second car we were unable to work as many hours, spent more money on gas because of trips back and forth to work and daycare, and had less time to spend with our child. My friend was kind enough to loan us just enough money to buy a good used car. We of course have to pay him back but we are able to make smaller payments than we would if we had borrowed from a financial institution.

In both situations money was given and had to be spent a certain way. In both situations much needed assistance was offered. The assistance made our lives less stressful and more fulfilling. The bailout meant millions of people still had jobs to make their lives less stressful.
Kevin, a writer of Leanleft.com, has the following to offer on the employment effects of the bailout:

Not only would that kill those companies, it would kill all of the suppliers who
depend on their business. And that would kill all of the companies that depend
on those suppliers, and so on and so on down the line. Anywhere from one to
three million people could lose their jobs from those effects. And that doesn’t
even include the effects from the loss of millions of pensions or the fact that
this would be the first major economic downturn with the new, draconian personal
bankruptcy laws in place. It would now be harder for unemployed people to get
back on their feet, increasing the economic damage.

So the government has the choice of pushing us further into recession or helping sustain employment for millions. They would sustain employment while making an effort to better other aspects of the business, such as energy usage.

So, what then? The government should mind their own business? In this case the bailouts are their own business. Kevin from Leanleft.com offers this example of how:

In addition to the savings in government outlays and increased tax revenues, a
properly constructed bailout could and even should be a long term benefit to the
country. First, any bailout would be an opportunity to force the Big Three to
finally address the reality of energy independence and global climate change.
That, and the breathing room to finish the management changes they have already
undertaken that promise to turn them into better competitors, should make the
Big Three much better job producers and tax sources in the years ahead. The last
auto bailout actually made the government money, and there is no reason to
believe that, eventually, this bailout could not do the same.

And so we see how this will benefit the government as well as the people of this country.

The bailout isn’t meant to last forever. Therefore, the government’s control over how GM operates will not last forever. Once the money is paid back the stipulations surrounding it are over and GM’s executives can go back to making the massively ridiculous salaries they are used to receiving.

Let us also not forget that GM does not have to take the government’s offer. They had a choice.

Let us also not forget that Obama cannot do this on his own. He takes more than one man to pass these notions.

Obama is performing what he thinks is the best kind of help he could offer people in trouble, and throwing in what he thinks is good for U.S., or even the world, as a whole.

It seems just the thing that someone with his track record for helping people would do. According to this article translated from Norwegian by the author of Raising Max & Evie, Obama, while still a Harvard student, had paid a luggage passage fee of $103 for a complete stranger. The stranger had been unaware of the fee and was quite upset. Her two suitcases had contained all of her belongings. This is not the act of a man whose intention or insight would lead the country he is responsible for to a system one notch below communism.

I am not saying that Obama is or will be the perfect president. I am saying I would like us to be able to see the mess we have made of this world and how, charged with the wellbeing of this country, Obama wants only the best for us.

Mommy, Where Does God Live?

I spent some time in my life thinking that I didn’t believe in God. Actually, I think it was more that in the back of my mind I knew there was a God but that it didn’t really matter because it was too difficult for me to being living the life I was living and think of myself as a follower of God.

After that I adopted this sort-of agnostic philosophy: If there is a God, he (he/she/it…for intents and purposes here I will continue using he) knows I am a good person, and as long as he knows that, I am not worried about the little rules and regulations of religion.

I still feel that organized religion can suck the goodness out of God’s lessons, but within the first year after I had my daughter I had an epiphany. I was sitting on the love seat, the only sitting furniture in our tiny apartment besides a rocking chair, with my man one night. We were talking about religion and how the formalities and regulations of it ruin Christian spirituality. I stated the philosophy in the above paragraph.
We began speaking about miracles and decided that our daughter was a miracle. All babies are miracles.

That’s when it hit me like a blinding, yet gentle light. I know there is a god. I have always known; I just didn’t want to believe it. This realization suddenly made certain things much easier. I could explain death to my daughter. I could pray and give thanks for receiving her.

The idea of church still does not appeal to me. I ask too many questions. I find too many inconsistencies. I have too much to say about how the bible has been rewritten so many times.

Our relationship with God is personal. There is nothing wrong with worshipping together. In fact, I understand the need that others have for the church type of community as described by Jeff Lindsay is his blog-post entitled “Jesus Alone – No Need for Church.” I understand the need for support from those who have the same beliefs. But I feel that my spirituality is my own and I choose to share it with my family: my man and my daughter. I try to be supportive of others, spiritually or otherwise, everyday. And I feel I receive more from encountering a vast array of people since my sensibilities seem to be somewhat…strange. (I should also probably throw in here that in a way I am glad for churches. I love the aesthetics of ancient churches and want to tour those in Europe.)

Some months ago I found myself making comments to my daughter referencing God. She asked me why our noses are the way they are and I answered “Because that is how God made us.” The first time she asked me who God was I was speechless. Her three year-old attention span kicked in and she was distracted from her question by something outside of the car window. When we got home I told her father that I wasn’t sure what to say and I basically got scolded for not answering her. I went to her and told her that God is everywhere and he made everything. She accepted that answer and moved right along.

Not long after we began having discussions about the idea that God made everything. We turned it into a favorite type of game. When she has learned a new concept she will ask me to say something and she will tell me yes or no. For example, to teach the difference between lying and telling the truth and lying and pretend I would say something to her and ask her which it was. “Angelina hit me. Is this a lie or the truth? Mommy turned into a monster with blue teeth. Is this pretend or a lie?” For the God made everything scenario I let her ask me the questions. She asked me if God made puppies. I said yes. She asked me if God made houses. I told her “No. People make houses, but God made the stuff that the people use to make the houses.”

Last month my daughter and I were roaming the isles at a craft store. Near the front was a large picture of President Obama. I asked L if she knew who was in the picture. She got a very bright look on her face and in a hopeful tone she said “God!” (Please don’t tell my mother this. I fear she may be close to saying the president I voted for is the anti-Christ). I corrected her with a giggle and when I asked her the same question last night during Obama’s press conference made sure to tell her it wasn’t God first.

Last week my sister called me as we were leaving to take L to day care to tell me that her friend did indeed deliver her baby, but that he was born with a fever, had stopped breathing for a minute, and was sick. Before ending the call I told her I would pray for her friend and her son. I hung up and thought this would be a good time to explain to L what praying is. I asked if she knew what it was and she responded she did not. I told her that praying is when you talk to God. I asked her if she remembered my sister’s friend and she said she did. I told her that she had a baby, that the baby was sick, and that I was going to pray to ask God if it was ok with him, that he makes sure the baby got better. And with the utmost conviction L asks me “Well, what did he say?” It doesn’t get much better than a three year-old asking questions like this. I told her that God doesn’t usually answer with words, that we would just have to wait and see if the baby got better.

The other night in the car she said she wanted God for her birthday that’s coming up in a few months. We got to tell her that you have God everyday, not just on your birthday.

Last night L asked me where God lives. I told her everywhere, but then told her that God lives in Heaven. She said, “No. What road does he live on?” (She just learned our address). I told her I wasn’t sure if there are roads in heaven. She told there are and that they are dirt roads. Giggle, giggle.

It amazes me how easily children of this age grasp the concept of God. Maybe we adults over complicate it. Oh, the lessons I learn from my child.

Morality: Black and White?

Morality is the motivation that drives reasoning of right and wrong.

How many of us believe that to every problem the moral choice is black or white? How many of us believe there are gray areas?

On the phone last night my mother was telling me in an exasperated voice that when she was employed at a military university cafeteria she overheard one student tell another that she should be fine because nothing is ever black and white, it’s always gray. My mother vehemently disagrees. My response to that was to ask her if she thought there could be, not that there is but that there could be, one set of rules that could possibly govern and provide the correct moral answer for every situation. The question came from an essay I had read the night before by Gareth McCaughan on utilitarianism. He states:

Firstly, about rules. There are a lot of rules in the Bible, and many Christian
communities have come up with others (either deduced from the ones in the Bible,
or not). I distrust rules, even when they come from the very most reliable
sources. It seems improbable to me that any finite collection of rules can
really give a perfectly accurate account of what one should and should not
do.

McCaughan is stating this as an introduction to the question of what a satisfactory set of ethics would be. He attempts to pit Christianity against utilitarianism and then, in the same essay, attempts to take Christian ethics and use them as a basis for utilitarianistic thinking.

Now, up until last night I would be perfectly content with my answer to the question posed to my mother (and implied by the last sentence in the quote) as being “no.” It’s very easy to say that many situations are to complicated, complex, and convoluted for any one basic set of rules to be able to truly guide you.

Take, for example, a situation (which I think I recall from my college ethics class) where a man’s wife is dyng. He does not have the money to purchase the medicine that would save her life. The pharmacy refuses to give the man the medicine or allow him to pay for it in installments. The man is contemplating stealing the medicine he needs to save his wife.

Most of us are going to say that this situation is not, cannot be, black and white. On the one hand we know stealing is wrong. And on the other, is it right for the man to allow his wife to die when he can prevent it?

So, after dropping the question on my mother she gives the answer that I knew she would (but I was using the question as a segue to the example above). She said “There is one [set of finite rules].” She, of course, was referring to the Ten Commandments. In response to which I asked her, really more just contemplating that asking, if there is a commandment appropriate to govern every situation in which a person has to make a moral decision. And being an unwavering Christian, she said there is.

Here I began my normal critical analysis out load. I gave my mother the situation I mentioned above and asked her to use the moral code from the bible to deduce the correct resolution. She said stealing is wrong no matter how it is justified. It doesn’t mean that anyone would let their wife die because of it; it just means that stealing is wrong.

However, the commandments also teach us that life is sacred. The man would be choosing one sin over another. There is nothing in the bible, that I am aware of, that gives one sin precedence over another, no instructions on how to reason morally. McCaughan says as much in the same article I mentioned above.

It is tempting to infer from the absence of an ethical system in the Bible that
there is none (beyond the requirement to do the perhaps-opaque will of God); but
there is no justification for this, even if one takes a very high view of the
authority of Scripture. If you are going to rescue someone from drowning, you
just throw them a rope and tell them to grab it; you don't try to give them
swimming lessons.

Here McCaughan is saying that while the commandments are laid out, there is no further instruction for following them, no structured guidance for the situations we will face as humans.

It is true that an easy look at the commandments can leave a person feeling like there is something missing. You begin to ask “well, if this certain situation came up would I really have a choice and would my action really be a sin.”

I often find my self asking other questions like “What about the killing during war? How can Christians volunteer for the military? If you killed someone in self-defense, is it a sin? Is it considered suicide if...” and other such questions. Usually the response is "I don't know. I'm not God."

So, as I have said, before last night my answer was that most situations leave you in shades of gray. But the reality of it is quite simple according to the commandments, and I see it this way now. The actions you take, if they are a sin and no matter the reasons, are black and white. The reasons for choosing to sin are shades of gray…and purple…and red…and aquamarine, etc. Stealing will always be a sin, as will killing, and so on.
However, if God can see the struggles we face his judgment can be sound. We must look at our situations with an honest eye and see if we really put ourselves there. If we are the cause for the reason to sin God may not be as forgiving as if we are not.



As a side note: In regards to the cited essay. I don’t think McCaughan is half as intelligent as he tries to make himself sound. I think he is making excuses for his indecisiveness in knowing himself. Based on his web site I infer that he is a jackass.

The Wolves in the Walls

When I hear the name Neil Gaiman I think of Sandman comics, graphic novels with mature adult content that I won’t let my daughter read until she is twenty-seven (even though I started reading them when I was a teenager…mother’s prerogative). I don’t think of a child’s story. So, of course I was quite intrigued when I saw The Wolves in the Walls written by Mr. Gaiman sitting near the graphic novels in my favorite comic book shop.

I was immediately drawn to the aesthetics, but I did not purchase it. The page where the family is brandishing chair legs put me off. I didn’t want my daughter to read anything that was violent. I guess I should have kept reading.

A few months later we visited the public library and The Wolves in the Walls was displayed on a shelf that would have been eye level to an eight year old as we entered the children’s area. I was drawn to it like a dog to food. I snatched it right off the shelf and wondered if I should bother checking it out. Maybe I should wait until my three year old is a seven year old. Would it frighten my daughter like I knew it would another three year old at her daycare that worries about a giant spider with a large mouth coming to visit him at night?

I asked L (my daughter) if she wanted to get it. She took a quick look at the cover and said yes.

That night as I began to read The Wolves in the Walls to L, I prepared myself to give another talk on what is real and what is pretend, complete with the examples routine that she is so fond of. “If I say that mommy has pink eyes and blue teeth, is that real or pretend?” However, none of this was necessary. She loved the book.

The Wolves in the Walls takes the classic idea of a child knowing that something is not quite right yet no one listens to her, and twists it just right. A little girl named Lucy hears noises coming from inside the walls of her house, “…sneaking, creeping, crumpling noises,” and she knows it’s the noise of wolves hiding in there. She tries to tell the rest of her family, but to no avail. Although they don’t particularly believe her, her mother, father, and little brother all tell her (my daughter’s favorite line) “if the wolves com out of the walls, it’s all over.” Lucy questions this statement with a critical tongue each time it is alleged. The next night the noises stop, but then, suddenly, the wolves come out of the walls. The family flees from their home, only to take refuge in their garden where Lucy’s mother, father, and brother discuss other farfetched places they can live, places were there aren’t any wolves. Lucy, however, isn’t so ready to give up her home. Later that night she sneaks back into her house and through walls to her room, so she can rescue her treasured pig puppet. While in the house she witnesses the wolves doing the kinds of things you would do only in a house that did not belong to you. The next night Lucy convinces her family to go back into the house to sleep inside the same walls where the wolves had been waiting to break out. They didn’t sleep long because they were awakened by the sounds of the wolves having a party. Finally, the family gets fed up and Lucy leads them out of the walls to confront the wolves. How do the wolves react? They scream “…when the people come out of the walls, it’s all over” and dash out of the house. The family is able to get everything back to normal. But when Lucy heard “…a noise that sounded exactly like an elephant trying not to sneeze” she decides to keep it just between her and her pig puppet.

This book is a fantastic read. The words entice the reader to keep reading, even if the reader thinks the illustrations are a little creepy. Personally, I think they are great. The art is captivating for adults and children. There is so much to look at on each page that their eyes are glued to the book while being read to, which enhances what is being read. The art is a montage of what seems to be painting, pen drawing, photographs and computer graphics. The semi-abstract human characters both blend in with and stand out against their abstract back grounds. The wolves are brawn in ink or felt pin. All of the human elements (clothing, furniture) that are shown with the wolves remain in the same abstract form that they were seen in with the humans in the picture, which provide charismatic contrast. The bright, smooth texture of Lucy’s father’s tuba, the video game the wolves play on the television, and fire in the garden are quite distinct against the earth tones used throughout the rest of the book.

The person inhabiting username DuMarigny on the Common Sense Media website says that the family’s “…actions and conversations are similarly disjointed and confusing.” I have to disagree. If a child is able to read the book on their own and maybe learning about writing, they can absorb a real sense of the effectiveness of ordering within the story. They can also learn about syntax, as it is clearly triumphant in this book.

DuMarigny also states “…the action and images in the book are so distressing that there can be little understanding…to be gained from this story.” I think this reviewer is having trouble coping with a book that steps just a bit outside the norm. The book does hold some similarities with other excellent children’s literature. It gives the message that you should be yourself and stick to your beliefs when others doubt you or don’t agree. It gives the message of not giving up in the face of adversity. The book is wonderfully imaginative. But, as I have stated, with younger children you may need to be prepared for a talk on real and pretend.

The only part of this book that I am not sure works for it’s child readers takes place as Lucy is about to convince her family to retreat back to their house. After a line up of ‘what’s’ from her family Gaiman throws in another “what” from the Queen of Melanesia, who apparently stopped by to help with gardening. While I adore profound and nonsensical jabs that come out of nowhere I’m not sure a child reader would appreciate this. The only other show of the Queen is a page earlier where you see only her hands in the lower left corner cutting the grass with pruning shears, and you really have to be looking for that to see it. I must find test this book on children older than three to see if they catch the pure silliness.

On a 1 to 10 scale, I give this book, written by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by his long time counterpart Dave McKean, a 10. No doubt. Some reviews claim the book is for children six to eight and up, but I have seen it listed for ages four to eight. While the book seems like it may be for older children, my three year old loves it (OK, she’ll be four in less than four months). If I had to put up defining ages I would say four to ten, but with a comment on how it could inspire children even older than that. In her review, Carlie Kraft Webber wrote that “…this is most definitely a book for older readers.” I agree, somewhat. While I was willing to give a try with my daughter, knowing that I could explain the difference between truth and a story, I would not let her take it to daycare with her when she asked, for I knew that it would frighten the little boy with the giant spider in his room.

…and, oh yeah, it is fantastically creepy.

J

This morning as I was getting breakfast in the cafeteria at work I received …some bad news (these words can’t describe). One of my work friends (you know, one of those people you share your time with but if you were to leave the company, more than likely the friendship wouldn’t sustain) had just found out that her grandson had died. He was only three. three fucking years old. Six months younger than my daughter. He had been at my daughter’s second birthday party. At the party we kept trying to engage him but he seemed to be in his own little “J” world until I have him a little toy that twisted all over the place and had beads for noise, something simple.

At the time I received this news my friend did not know how it had happened and no one would tell her over the phone; however, she had her suspicions. Her daughter, J’s mother, is involved with a man who she allowed to hit J. They just had a baby together 6 months ago. My friend had called the authorities to report the abuse. Both children had already been taken away from the mother once and they are/were still investigating the man and J’s mother, if you can call her that. I mean she birthed him, but what beyond that? It was her responsibility to keep this child safe.

Of course I do realize that there is a possibility that my friend’s suspicions will not prove justified. That thought is the only thing keeping me from punching something.

I think I was in that denial stage at first because it took a few minutes for the news to sink in. Then I started crying. Another friend of mine was telling me that if J was being abused then he is in a better place, with God. This thought is what brought me back around when I started to slip so many times today.

But the idealist in me comes out. I’m not the person who thinks “things are bad but that’s the way the world is.” In my head, in this thought’s place is “It shouldn’t be that way. I will never accept the wrong and I will do whatever I can to change it.” This perspective battles with the comforting ideas my friend is trying to give me. J (and his baby sister) should never have been in this situation in the first place. He’s safe now.

I asked my grandmother once why we cry so when someone dies if we believe they go to a better place. The thought was provoked because I was telling her how I wish my grandfather, who had passed away eight years prior, could have met my daughter. Of course he will get to meet her, and he is probably looking at her right now. I will never forget the answer my grandmother gave. She said when someone dies we aren’t crying for them. We’re crying for the whole that is left in us when they are gone.

Right now I am feeling like the things I have been fretting over are somewhat petty. Any day that I still have my daughter is a good day.


“There was no way out except to keep going and hope there was a shining white light somewhere, with the voices of dead loved ones calling from inside it.”

- from Wounds by Jemiah Jefferson

Enter the Rockin’ Mommy Blog.

The idea for this blog was birthed from a dilemma brought to surface in one of my attempts to persuade a friend of mine to move back to Florida. We discussed that neither of us were succeeding in finding mommy friends. We simply do not have much in common with the moms we meet, other than the fact that we have children. Some moms cannot even get past my tattoos and lip ring long enough to hear me speak on my parenting philosophies, teaching philosophies, or anything else.

This blog will be written from the perspective of a mom from the radical end of the conservative/radical spectrum. Here I can not only share and engage in conversation with other parents like me, but hopefully open the eyes of those more conservative, show them that just because a person has tattoos or piercings, or dyes his or her hair unnatural colors, does not mean that he or she is a bad parent.

The main focus of this blog will be parenting, but I will mix it up a bit. I want to give my perspectives on parenting and provide other parents with respectable resources. In addition to my wisdom (or opinions, depending on how you want to look at it), postings could include links to hard to find alternative clothing (for adults and children), introducing new music (for adults and children), tattoo artist finds, art finds, good literature, and any thing else that appeals to me or that I think might be enjoyed.

I want to encourage other parents to share their thoughts, experiences, and findings, and ask questions. I enjoy the want for networking without competition. Everyone is welcome. I want to offer friendship and a place without judgment.

I hope to bring a new perspective to the online parenting network, like I tend to do away from the computer. I have a tendency to open people’s minds if I can just get them to listen, but as I have stated, getting them to listen is the hard part. I am often told “Before I talked to you I thought you looked really mean.” Again they could not look past my appearance long enough to see what was in my heart. This blog will be a chance to show what is in my heart without the restrictions of aesthetics (except for the ones I add).

Please, interact and enjoy!