Hello, poor neglected blog. I've been all caught up in my little world (you know, raising and caring for my children and volunteering at school, the usual things us Mothers do) and haven't thought of you in a while. Fortunately, a kind sweet lady reminded me of you *waves at Kelli*, so I stopped in to say hello, and how are you? Will I be back more often? I won't make promises, since I have all that Real Life stuff I have to take care of. 3 little monkeys don't raise themselves, you know.
So.... you know how you read a blog, and get kinda caught up in the drama, and are rooting for the happy ending?
Uggg. Very recently a blog-lady got on my last (no, probably just the 37th-to last) nerve with the Complaining on her blog. And really, why does it matter? How easy is it to just not read it, right? But, nevertheless, I read, am taken aback by her lack of gratitude.
A wise friend of mine mentioned that anything that really bugs you about someone else (he used ~slightly~ stronger words) is something about yourself that you should deal with.
So, I'm pondering today, what am I ungrateful for? Or what am I constantly complaining about that should actually reflect Gratitude? I have an amazing family, and I am so happy to be the Mom. I am just so happy about that, and I would be mortified if any one of them thought I didn't want to be here, with them. Mortified. Not able to sleep at night.
Recently, one of the "big" bloggers announced that she is not a feminist, because equal = same, and who wants to be the same as a man?
For so many reasons, I am upset and disturbed by this, not in the least because many women agreed with her. Many commenters tried to correct the assumed definition of "feminist", but it's been maddeningly ignored.
And I'm frustrated. Because, I know what I mean when I call myself a Feminist. I believe that you, and I, and everyone else, should be afforded the same opportunities and rights without regard to our gender. This is so self-evident, so fundamental to my paradigm, that I cannot understand how other women do not believe it.
BUT! It seems we're speaking different languages; a Feminist says, "I believe in equal rights", and the non-feminist hears, "I want to talk, dress, and act like a man". How do we ever bridge this gap? We must, not just for our mutual understanding, but for the women all over the world who don't have our most basic rights. And, more importantly, for our daughters and our sons, who will either grow into adults who respect and honor individual differences, or who don't.
Many years ago, my best friend left me for a guy. Really, I never understood what happened, and it's not particularly relevant anymore, except I was contemplating my upcoming birthday and the changes I want to make in my life and I realized I have not had a close female friend since our "falling out". Like, more than 15 years. (Somewhat) Ironically, she and I reconnected on FB (of course) and picked right up where we left off; the wicked sense of humor that makes others uncomfortable, the shared experiences, etc.
The difference now? I can live without her. I didn't know that back then. It really broke my heart, shook foundations of belief within me. She was part of my identity, and she left. Now, I think I no longer have the ability to let anyone that close. I've not been honestly close with another woman since then. I've had acquaintances, co-workers, etc., but if I were pressed to name my best friend, it would be a soul-mate/platonic guy who I only talk to a few times a year. And female friends? A handful of ladies from the past I keep up with on FB. No phone calls, girls night out, any of that stuff.
What is that? Just growing up, maturing? Realizing you can stand on your own (and this is just one of the many things which lead to THAT epiphany!)? Or is this something abnormal and strange that I should be "working on"? I dunno. It's something I'm thinking about.
I'm watching the fur fly over at another blog about SAHMs vs. working moms. Am I the only one who thinks the "debate" is absurd? Really, how does what one mom chooses to do any reflection on, or of any relevance to, my choice? I just don't care what someone else does; I mean, I care, but I can't see how it devalues or inflates me. Why does it have to be one way or the other? And why can't women stop finding "issues" to divide us? Waste of time and energy, methinks.
Papa Monkey's cousin (21-ish, student, aaaaalllll the "All-American"-isms) was found in an alley.
I met his mom afterwards; a woman undone.
I cannot and will not imagine what she thinks about.
I will not.
Because I cannot. I can not.
Baby Monkey anticipates JOY. His first and consistant reaction to anything (everything) new or not, is the SMILE and the BOUNCE... what wonderful thing will my little self now experience? Imagine that, the expectation of... JOY...
The two situations, the dichotomy, it's messing with me. Big time.