Politics. And God. Politics, God, and society. There's a loaded topic. As I'm writing this, I'm sitting in my Modern and Contemporary Christian Thought class; a theology class, for all-intensive purposes. We have gotten zero theological study out of this class, but instead my prof has decided to cater to the one guy in here who is literally obsessed with the "what came first"s, the "what did Jesus LOOK like"s, and the 'fact' that racism "doesn't exist" anymore. It got me thinking. When did America as a whole become like this? I'm sure there are others who think this way (Koran burners, The WBC), and that could explain why we're so ass-backward as a nation. Does it matter what came first between the chicken and the eggs? We have chickens AND eggs, and we get nourishment from both, end of subject. Does it matter who came up with the idea of 'pantheism', 'panantheism,' 'deism,' etc...? Nope. Not at all. It matters that they're there. People have different beliefs, people are different, period.
A couple weeks ago, there was a ridiculous ongoing commentary from said ridiculous guy about how "9/11 was an isolated incident, the world religions get along really well, and since 9/11, the world's been a much calmer, more peaceful, safer place." Um, herro Kim Jong Il (yes, I'm referencing "Team America"), not so. We've been at war, both within our own borders and without. How can you miss that?! How can someone be so oblivious to the suffering of people everywhere, all across the world, and make statements that are so ignorant they make my blood boil? So I guess I'm wondering: am I insane for thinking HE'S insane?
Piggybacked to my weekly Thursday night shenanigans is the anger I feel at how racist America is. It makes me angry that anyone can be blind to this, especially with the condemnation that President Obama has been undergoing in a very public manner for the past 2 1/2 years. Where is the outcry against the injustice of the forced humiliation of THE MAN WE ELECTED INTO THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT AS A NATION by repeatedly asking for his birth certificate?! This 'birther' movement, Donald Trump, conspiracy theorists are never going to be satisfied. He releases the illegal-to-release long-form certificate of live birth and it's fake. He releases the normal, government-issued birth certificate, has Republicans and Democrats verify it's authenticity and it's a conspiracy. Nothing is ever good enough because of society's perceptions of what's right/wrong, acceptable/unacceptable, moral/unethical. Listen. We are ALL from somewhere else. We ALL have ethnic names, whether we realize it or not. 'Johnson' dates way back to the UK's naming system, and literally means "John's son." 'Smith' alludes to some form of European tradesman: blacksmith, silversmith, locksmith, etc. 'White' is a surname that was given to black slaves to denote who they "belonged" to. Connell is the short-form of O'Connell- obviously Irish, McKidd is Scottish, Diaz can be a plethora of Hispanic countries as is Castro (Cuban or Dominican, for example). My point is, there is an ethnic history behind every single surname in this country, and it enrages me that we are such hypocrites as a nation.
I got teased for my last name when it was "Salazar" because it sounded like "saladbar." For a girl who developed faster than everyone else around me and was significantly taller than everyone, my "nickname" was Chewbecca- aka Chewy. So then I became a wookie entree in my "full nickname" Chewbecca ate the Saladbar. This is what we do to people with ethnic last names. We ostracize them and make them outcasts. It goes much less noticed when we're younger because it's school and children are mean. But when we begin calling out our elected leader and picking on him because his last name is different, all the exceptions made for previous white men (*cough cough* John McCain and Mitt Romney) come bubbling to the surface as injustices. It sickens me to the core.
I could catch a lot of flack for this next statement, but as for the religion of the President of the United States? Or anyone else, for that matter? I don't care. I don't care what denomination of Christianity the President is, or even if he's Christian. What I do care about is whether or not he believes that there is something bigger than us and that no one can carry a country on their shoulders alone. I don't think God calls himself "God". If we want to get into Scripture, he only says "I am" or "I am what I am." What his earthly name is can change, and who's to say who's right or wrong? God to Christians can be the same Allah of the Muslims who can be Buddha to Buddhists or Yahweh to the Jews or Brahma to Hindus. In my mind, they are all the same. I do, however, care about how I choose to raise my family, and I do care that I'm allowed the freedom to raise my family the way I see fit. (Which happens to be a Christ-centered household, in case you're wondering! :) ) I may be Christian and have Christian beliefs, but I don't believe that's the only way to be. To think that Christians are the absolute key-holders to all things divine, I think that's ignorant. Like I said, I could catch flack for saying that, but that's okay. We're all entitled to our own opinions, and those are mine.
To wrap it up:
Am I the one living under the rock with a warped worldview? I don't get it. At all.
Okay... my rant is over, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Until later....
B
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Catch and Release
If you recognized the title from the Jennifer Garner flick (also starring the yummy Timothy Olyphant), I'm so busted. If you didn't and I just outed myself, I'm also busted! But I think it's applicable for today. I took Rhea to get her hair cut- and for a little girls' time, and it hit me that it seems like just yesterday, she was at Trace's stage, running around the house, babbling, being silly. (I say this as Mr. Man just emptied the DVD cabinet by pulling a concert booklet out from under the movie stack. Awesome sauce.) She told the stylist "I would like side bangs please. Not straight across my forehead, but side bangs. To. The. Side. Thank you!" And while I sat there cracking up with the stylists and another customer, it hit me just how quickly time has flown. I can't believe that my first baby is almost 3 1/2 and that she can tell us exactly what she wants, in no uncertain terms, like she's a little adult. I can't believe that we can put on Justin Bieber (and a handful of other artists, don't worry- she's not just a Belieber!) and she knows all the words and can sing all the notes (pretty much dead on), working her way through CD after CD. Her sense of humor is hilarious, and her smile lights up a room. Her giggle is contagious, and she most often lets those laughs loose when we're doing the "Do Together" part of her yoga for kids workout. She dotes on, polices, and beats on Trace whenever she wants, but always wants to pray with him and she freaks out if she doesn't get to say goodnight. She is totally her own person, and yes, that does create some struggle for Nathan and me, but I'm so amazed at the little girl she's growing into and excited for the young lady of the future.
Then I look at Trace and am even more amazed. I don't remember Rhea doing what he's doing when she was his age. He is so verbal, and goofy, and he has his own little sense of himself, and his own sense of humor. I feel like the baby of my babies grew into a toddler way faster than my first baby! And I know that's normal, because the second baby has an example to follow. Quite frankly, I'd be concerned, with the level of talking at/to him that Rhea does and with her level of involvement, if he wasn't the little guy he is. Between the two of them, I'm either laughing or tearing my hair out all through the day. Let's just say, our house isn't boring!
Even though I look at them with a sense of awe and wonder (I still cannot believe that Nate and I created these two perfections), I also have a heart tinged with sadness. It's astounding how quickly time is flying by, and I often wonder if I'm absorbing as much from them and of them as I can. Even though I'm with them all day every day, am I seeing as much of them as I should be? I feel like time is racing by and I can't possibly catch it all. Am I saying the right things to Rhea? Am I doing a good job showing them as much love as they need and as much as I have to give them? I constantly worry that something is going to happen to me or them and that our time is going to be cut short. I know, I know... it sounds completely irrational. But, God forbid that does happen, did I give them the start of a solid foundation for the rest of their lives?
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that we should love and cherish every single second we have with the people we love the most. I can't imagine my life without Nathan, in the same way life before Rhea feels like a million years ago, in the same way that our family without Trace didn't sparkle as much as it does with him. Life happens and it happens so fast that I feel like there's never enough time. There just isn't.
Nathan did a really sweet thing though today, and I feel like our house is taking more and more steps toward feeling like a home. He hung a bunch of pictures that we had up in our old apartment. Pictures of him and me when we were dating, pictures of us in college, pictures of Rhea as a newborn until now. (We have a ton of pictures of Trace that we have to print off so they can join the picture party!) So, after almost two years living in this house, we're finally starting to live like grown ups! We have our beautiful memories hanging from the walls (and more keep coming!), we're organizing the rooms (and you can see the floor! *happydance*), and the kids' playroom looks like a playroom, not an abyss. All it took is a little concentrated time.
So, coming back to the beginning of this entry, I feel like we have such a brief time, no matter how long life is, to catch the beautiful people we love. We have such a brief long time to do the incredible things we want to do with those beautiful people... and then we have to release. We release the youthful times to the past and relegate them to precious memories. We release the feelings of the past in favor of a peaceful present and future. We release our amazing children to the big, wide world without being under our roof. And somewhere in there, we release our hearts and give them to someone else. Whether that someone is our spousal soulmate, our friend(s) soulmate, our children (who are the carriers of our souls), or just the universe, we are all here to leave our mark. So take the time and catch the people you love to make your mark. Time is ticking.
Then I look at Trace and am even more amazed. I don't remember Rhea doing what he's doing when she was his age. He is so verbal, and goofy, and he has his own little sense of himself, and his own sense of humor. I feel like the baby of my babies grew into a toddler way faster than my first baby! And I know that's normal, because the second baby has an example to follow. Quite frankly, I'd be concerned, with the level of talking at/to him that Rhea does and with her level of involvement, if he wasn't the little guy he is. Between the two of them, I'm either laughing or tearing my hair out all through the day. Let's just say, our house isn't boring!
Even though I look at them with a sense of awe and wonder (I still cannot believe that Nate and I created these two perfections), I also have a heart tinged with sadness. It's astounding how quickly time is flying by, and I often wonder if I'm absorbing as much from them and of them as I can. Even though I'm with them all day every day, am I seeing as much of them as I should be? I feel like time is racing by and I can't possibly catch it all. Am I saying the right things to Rhea? Am I doing a good job showing them as much love as they need and as much as I have to give them? I constantly worry that something is going to happen to me or them and that our time is going to be cut short. I know, I know... it sounds completely irrational. But, God forbid that does happen, did I give them the start of a solid foundation for the rest of their lives?
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that we should love and cherish every single second we have with the people we love the most. I can't imagine my life without Nathan, in the same way life before Rhea feels like a million years ago, in the same way that our family without Trace didn't sparkle as much as it does with him. Life happens and it happens so fast that I feel like there's never enough time. There just isn't.
Nathan did a really sweet thing though today, and I feel like our house is taking more and more steps toward feeling like a home. He hung a bunch of pictures that we had up in our old apartment. Pictures of him and me when we were dating, pictures of us in college, pictures of Rhea as a newborn until now. (We have a ton of pictures of Trace that we have to print off so they can join the picture party!) So, after almost two years living in this house, we're finally starting to live like grown ups! We have our beautiful memories hanging from the walls (and more keep coming!), we're organizing the rooms (and you can see the floor! *happydance*), and the kids' playroom looks like a playroom, not an abyss. All it took is a little concentrated time.
So, coming back to the beginning of this entry, I feel like we have such a brief time, no matter how long life is, to catch the beautiful people we love. We have such a brief long time to do the incredible things we want to do with those beautiful people... and then we have to release. We release the youthful times to the past and relegate them to precious memories. We release the feelings of the past in favor of a peaceful present and future. We release our amazing children to the big, wide world without being under our roof. And somewhere in there, we release our hearts and give them to someone else. Whether that someone is our spousal soulmate, our friend(s) soulmate, our children (who are the carriers of our souls), or just the universe, we are all here to leave our mark. So take the time and catch the people you love to make your mark. Time is ticking.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Exhausted
It's been a while, and I've missed blogging. From the title of this entry, you can probably see why it's been awhile. I'm one sleepy chica! I've recently put two and two together as to why I've been so completely exhausted to the bone every day. So recent that it has, in fact, been approximately thirteen hours since I've made this discovery. Every night, Nathan and I go to bed just the two of us, and every morning I wake up- hours after he's been gone- with someone else in my bed. Her name starts with Rh and ends with eaLynn. And she is a bed hog beyond belief. I'm talking, she comes in sometime in the middle of the night and plasters me against the wall, which makes me wake up stiff and in pain, which in turn causes me to try and turn over, but I can't because of said toddler hogging my space. This morning, I woke up, tried to shift, she woke up and asked me to cuddle her (which I'd already been doing in my sleep, explaining the dead left arm I had going on), and I told her I couldn't because my body hurt. So I turned over, and what did she do? Plastered her bum into my back, made sure it was good and dug in to the small of my back, and promptly returned to snoring. Needless to say, I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all.
I realized that this has been happening for about a week and a half, since she really got re-comfortable sleeping in the room Rhea and Trace share. We bought this flower light at Ikea a couple weeks ago, and since it's been mounted on the wall and on all night long (all day, too!), she's realized that there are no "skulletons in her room" coming to get her. The nightmares have stopped *knock on wood* and hopefully, we are moving away from this phase that she's been in for about a year. Now, about the skulleton thing: Rhea is super-perceptive to the supernatural. I know, I know... if you don't believe in "ghosts" or "spirits," things of that nature, it can sound really hokey. And that's fine; stop reading. Because that's what I'm going to be talking about. Since she was a baby and we lived across from a nursing home, she's been freakishly in tune to things that Nate and I can't see. (Or, every so often, we could see... in my case, sense.) Nate used to be really visually perceptive to the spirit realm- seeing random spirits, friends who'd died, my grandpas and uncle, that kind of shenanigans. I've never seen anything in detail- just the occasional "teaser" where I see something out of my periphery, look up, and it's gone. Or a shadow person in a doorway... or the electric vibes/presence of a spirit. Sometimes, when that happens, my world looks like the "doo doo doo doo" scene at the end of Wayne's World, except sub in crazy electric colored lights for the wavy water effect. Anyway, Rhea. When we lived across from the nursing home in this super cool condo (with a super douche-y landlord), it was a wide open floor plan. But there was a short hallway that ran off the living room; if you were in the hallway and looked right, there was the master bedroom. Right in front of you was a linen closet, to the immediate left of the door to the closet was Rhea's room, and at the left end of the hallway was the big bathroom. (We had a half bath on the other side of the condo.) When I would put Rhea down for nap or bed, I would rock her in a glider that faced the doorway. If the door wasn't completely closed, she would pop up, and watch people (we assume) walk up and down the hallway. Oftentimes, she would fight her way down out of my lap, crawl to her doorway, push open the door, and sit there, waving, babbling, and smiling at people walking up and down the hall. Creeeeepy. If the door was closed all the way, it happened a few times where I'd hear this shuffling sound, like someone scuffing their feet across the carpet, and it would stop in the middle of the room. Simultaneously, it would get chilly and Rhea would be riveted to the same spot I'd be sensing something. Double creepy. Add in the times Nate and I would hear her talking and laughing at/with someone, and when we'd get up to check on her, she'd be completely asleep, but her room would be frigid and the glider would be moving. Bizarre.
I don't know when she went from being so comfortable with the supernatural to absolutely freaked out by it. Nate and I both grew up having supernatural experiences, so it's nothing new to us. Yes, we've both had some seriously freaky situations, but nothing that we've ever gone running scared from. We're really open and accepting to that, so when we moved and about 7 months after we moved in, right after I had Trace, she started saying "There was a man in her room" and "Skulletons were coming to get her," we'd ask her to elaborate and she'd immediately switch into full-on denial of anything being there. But it wasn't the kind of denial that was like "Ahhhh got ya! I'm just kidding around!" It was the kind of terrified denial that really said "There is something scary in my room and I can't even talk about it." We tried everything from getting her fish in a lighted tank (that didn't work) to a Bieber poster on the wall (she'd swoon all day and still flip her nuggets at night) to putting my confirmation cross with a beautiful dove in the middle on the wall. No dice. It would be "Night night Jesus! I'm going to sleep on Mommy and Daddy's floor!" Sigh. Her little world was shattered (again) when she woke up in the middle of the night on our floor, shrieking about the skulletons that were in our room. So she climbed into bed with us and it was another terrible night of sleep for me and Nathan, wonderful and secure sleep for Rhea. Un-fair.
Back to the original point, I've figured it out. She is a bed hog of epic proportions. So tonight we're going to try leaving Nate's ipod in the room for her. That way, if she wakes up, she can put on Go Diego Go! or Toy Story 3 or Dora the Explorer or Backyardigans (yeah- she has a plethora of options) and (hopefully) stay in her room. I need to be able to wake up in the morning and do some yoga mania or pilates without her freaking out because I "got out of bed without her." I also enjoy showering without a shrieking toddler banging down the door and waking up her brother at 6:45 in the morning. A cup of coffee in my system, breakfast on occasion... those are also two more things I highly enjoy that I severely miss when Miss Miss gets up off her tuffet and thinks everything should go her way.
On that note... my eyelids are desperately seeking Susan (okay, not that terrible Madonna flick from the '80s, but Susan meaning sleep... terrible correlation, I know), so I'm gonna hit the ol' sack o' hay. Can't wait for what tomorrow's going to bring!
I realized that this has been happening for about a week and a half, since she really got re-comfortable sleeping in the room Rhea and Trace share. We bought this flower light at Ikea a couple weeks ago, and since it's been mounted on the wall and on all night long (all day, too!), she's realized that there are no "skulletons in her room" coming to get her. The nightmares have stopped *knock on wood* and hopefully, we are moving away from this phase that she's been in for about a year. Now, about the skulleton thing: Rhea is super-perceptive to the supernatural. I know, I know... if you don't believe in "ghosts" or "spirits," things of that nature, it can sound really hokey. And that's fine; stop reading. Because that's what I'm going to be talking about. Since she was a baby and we lived across from a nursing home, she's been freakishly in tune to things that Nate and I can't see. (Or, every so often, we could see... in my case, sense.) Nate used to be really visually perceptive to the spirit realm- seeing random spirits, friends who'd died, my grandpas and uncle, that kind of shenanigans. I've never seen anything in detail- just the occasional "teaser" where I see something out of my periphery, look up, and it's gone. Or a shadow person in a doorway... or the electric vibes/presence of a spirit. Sometimes, when that happens, my world looks like the "doo doo doo doo" scene at the end of Wayne's World, except sub in crazy electric colored lights for the wavy water effect. Anyway, Rhea. When we lived across from the nursing home in this super cool condo (with a super douche-y landlord), it was a wide open floor plan. But there was a short hallway that ran off the living room; if you were in the hallway and looked right, there was the master bedroom. Right in front of you was a linen closet, to the immediate left of the door to the closet was Rhea's room, and at the left end of the hallway was the big bathroom. (We had a half bath on the other side of the condo.) When I would put Rhea down for nap or bed, I would rock her in a glider that faced the doorway. If the door wasn't completely closed, she would pop up, and watch people (we assume) walk up and down the hallway. Oftentimes, she would fight her way down out of my lap, crawl to her doorway, push open the door, and sit there, waving, babbling, and smiling at people walking up and down the hall. Creeeeepy. If the door was closed all the way, it happened a few times where I'd hear this shuffling sound, like someone scuffing their feet across the carpet, and it would stop in the middle of the room. Simultaneously, it would get chilly and Rhea would be riveted to the same spot I'd be sensing something. Double creepy. Add in the times Nate and I would hear her talking and laughing at/with someone, and when we'd get up to check on her, she'd be completely asleep, but her room would be frigid and the glider would be moving. Bizarre.
I don't know when she went from being so comfortable with the supernatural to absolutely freaked out by it. Nate and I both grew up having supernatural experiences, so it's nothing new to us. Yes, we've both had some seriously freaky situations, but nothing that we've ever gone running scared from. We're really open and accepting to that, so when we moved and about 7 months after we moved in, right after I had Trace, she started saying "There was a man in her room" and "Skulletons were coming to get her," we'd ask her to elaborate and she'd immediately switch into full-on denial of anything being there. But it wasn't the kind of denial that was like "Ahhhh got ya! I'm just kidding around!" It was the kind of terrified denial that really said "There is something scary in my room and I can't even talk about it." We tried everything from getting her fish in a lighted tank (that didn't work) to a Bieber poster on the wall (she'd swoon all day and still flip her nuggets at night) to putting my confirmation cross with a beautiful dove in the middle on the wall. No dice. It would be "Night night Jesus! I'm going to sleep on Mommy and Daddy's floor!" Sigh. Her little world was shattered (again) when she woke up in the middle of the night on our floor, shrieking about the skulletons that were in our room. So she climbed into bed with us and it was another terrible night of sleep for me and Nathan, wonderful and secure sleep for Rhea. Un-fair.
Back to the original point, I've figured it out. She is a bed hog of epic proportions. So tonight we're going to try leaving Nate's ipod in the room for her. That way, if she wakes up, she can put on Go Diego Go! or Toy Story 3 or Dora the Explorer or Backyardigans (yeah- she has a plethora of options) and (hopefully) stay in her room. I need to be able to wake up in the morning and do some yoga mania or pilates without her freaking out because I "got out of bed without her." I also enjoy showering without a shrieking toddler banging down the door and waking up her brother at 6:45 in the morning. A cup of coffee in my system, breakfast on occasion... those are also two more things I highly enjoy that I severely miss when Miss Miss gets up off her tuffet and thinks everything should go her way.
On that note... my eyelids are desperately seeking Susan (okay, not that terrible Madonna flick from the '80s, but Susan meaning sleep... terrible correlation, I know), so I'm gonna hit the ol' sack o' hay. Can't wait for what tomorrow's going to bring!
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