That Girl

For many reasons, I've decided to try taking a break from my Facebook ranting and do it here instead, since this is my own "private" space.  Facebook has a way of making me even angrier about things than I originally was, and so I feel a need to put some distance between me and the social network for awhile.

My latest and most continuous rant is about the way that our society treats our young girls.  Having suffered through bouts of teenage anorexia, bulimia and body image issues myself, I know how the pressure to conform to a predetermined idealized standard can be overwhelming.  I feel a need to rage against this for my own daughter.

But, it's not easy.
When you go to the costume store at Halloween, and the "boy" section has superhero options as well as career options (fireman, doctor, soldier, SWAT team member), and the "girl" section has only princesses and fairies...
When you go to the shoe store and the boy shoes are in a variety of colors and interesting character choices, and the girl section only offers pink shoes with the Disney princesses on them...
When your daughter is in love with the "How To Train Your Dragon" movies, and asks only for Hiccup and Astrid for Christmas, but the toy company has decided to make action figures of only the male characters from the movie, despite the fact that Astrid has a central role...
When you go to the newest Disney princess film, that's been marketed as the anti-princess movie because the girl can "do it on her own without a guy," but she still has to end up falling for a guy at the end of the movie, drilling in the point that a girl needs a guy in her life to feel complete...
When you go out in public, and the only thing people can talk to your daughter about is her looks--her hair, her beauty--and she begins to think that is the only valuable aspect of herself...
When your daughter tells you it's more important to her to be beautiful than it is to be smart...
When your daughter is afraid of getting a haircut because she wants her hair long and flowing like the Disney princesses, and thinks that's what makes her special...


These are the reasons I rant.  It's easy (actually, I think a cop out) for people to say, "Ah, it's just a phase!" or "You're her mother!  Your influence is what matters, and she'll outgrow it!"  I don't buy any of that.  The outside world has amazing and sometimes irreversible effects on the psyche of our young people, and no amount of "Mama loves you for who you are" and "Your heart is what makes you beautiful!" is going to compensate for the Am-I-not-so-pretty? images of Disney princesses and other media propaganda that is thrown at my impressionable four-year old all the time.  It's insane.  And so I rant and rage and try to rail against the status quo.  I try to start the dialogue with people who might never have considered this issue before.  I talk to my daughter all the time about the many reasons--none physical--that she is special.  I try to be the anti-pop culture.

But I fear I am failing.  Tonight, my daughter came into the house upset, after having played with some of the neighborhood girls.  She announced that it made her sad that those girls were smarter than she is.  When I asked her why she thought those girls were smarter, she said, "Because they have light hair" (they're blonde).

Here we go again.

Long Time, No Post

I'm still here, guiltily checking my blog for signs that it has imploded from disuse.  Lots of thoughts on tap for some forthcoming posts, however, so stay tuned.

Little Earthquakes

There is nothing like the little quakes of life forming inside your womb to wake you up during the night, or to wake you up from the defeatist position you might take on things. 

This little one is so active...has been since 12 weeks, which most people (except my midwives) say is impossible, but I know what I've been feeling.  I thought B was an active fetus, but this one is persistent and demands attention.  I love it.

I've had a dreary take on things lately, from the futility of the job search to the loneliness both B and I have felt since moving here, and it's easy to get into the doldrums.  It's been particularly difficult lately, because I've seen wonderful things at my old job that I've missed out on--baby showers for the other three women there who are also pregnant now, and staff retreats to some of my favorite places in Michigan--and I feel lonely for my work and for my colleagues and friends.  It can be difficult to feel optimistic about what lies ahead when every effort I make seems fruitless.

But then I feel little earthquakes inside me.  As much as I know that this little one's arrival will make finding a job even harder, and will perhaps isolate me even further from social opportunities, I am excited.  We wanted this little one so very much, and have endured disappointment and heartbreak to finally welcome her/him.  I'm so excited.

The tremors abound.

WNY

Helicopters are flying over my house on their way to do surveillance over the Washington Navy Yards, where a gunman has shot at least 10 people, and possibly killed four.

My family was just at the park adjacent to the Navy Yards a couple weeks ago, having a great day of fun...so sad to think that that area has turned from innocence to tragedy in such a short time.

My family has many friends who work in the Navy Yards, and currently hunkered down, under lockdown in their office spaces right now, trying to stay safe from a violent shooter.  My heart goes out to them, and I wish them safety and strength.

My heart is sad, once more, today.

One Moment In Time

We went to visit a relative for dinner this evening.  During the course of the night, she decided to pull out old family photos to share with us.  The one that was the most captivating was that of her parents' wedding photo, circa 1946.  They were in their post-ceremony honeymoon clothes, hands clasped and both of them beautiful and radiant and full of hope.  However, our relative commented that in her childhood, she had never known her parents to have exchanged civil conversation, and they never slept in the same bedroom, much less the same bed.  Twenty-three years after their wedding, their contentious marriage ended in a bitter divorce.

Looking at that beautiful smiling couple, I felt a mix of emotions--bewilderment that such gorgeous, hopeful people could end up so utterly unhappy; sad that this had been the case; and grateful that my own marriage, despite its ups and downs, is still standing. 

I'm not even sure why I'm posting about this.  Lots of folks (many of whom have been relatives or good friends of mine) get divorced.  It's not unusual.  But I guess looking at that photograph, that snapshot in time of one couple's dreams for their future, was sobering upon knowing what happened to them. 

That's all.

Welcome to the world, Rosie Clementine!

You, sweet little one, have just been lucky enough to be born into one of the most adventuresome, awe-inspiring and loving families I know.  I can't wait to meet you one day and see your wonderful parents and siblings.  I love you already and welcome you with warm hugs to the world!

Contemplating

As anyone who still might read this blog from time to time might have noticed, it's been a long time since my last post.  In fact, long stretches of time lapse between most of my posts now.  There are lots of excuses--"I'm so busy!" "Is this interesting enough to people for me to actually write about?"--but I think the real reasons are that I'm lacking in inspiration, and so I don't really have the creative edge anymore to keep it up.

So, I've been thinking about ending the blog.  I don't want this to be just another Mommy blog, where all I post about is pregnancies, child-rearing and couponing.  There are plenty of those out in the etherworld, and despite the fact that my life has changed considerably since I started this blog, I never intended my thoughts here to center on the mundane.  After all, the title is "Travels With Charleys," not "Sitting at Home, Bitching and Complaining about Charleys"  (not that I would do that, but you get my point). 

I guess the adventure and thrills of life end--well, maybe change to other types of adventures and thrills--when you have kids.  After all, one of my favorite blogs is maintained by my good friend who's about to have her third kid, and never do her posts seem boring or mundane.  In fact, she's always out and about camping, hiking and traveling with her kids, and posting beautifully artistic photos of their family time together.  I guess I'm just a more boring soul than she, and can't quite seem to get the motivation to get out on the town with B, much less pack a nice SLR camera to take along.

But, alas, I've decided that I have more stories to tell and more editorials to write.  And perhaps this self-assessment of how slow and rote life has become is the wake-up call I need to add a little excitement into the mix.  Perhaps some spontaneous trips to the capitol?  Perhaps an impromptu hike along the many urban trails we pass in the car and wistfully wish we had time to try out?  Before long, life will become even more complicated with the addition of a newborn, the start of a new job (hopefully, one day), and full-time school for B.  These are the days to take advantage of and live.  So the house hasn't been swept of all the dog hair.  So the dishes need to be washed.  B's room is a pigsty and the bed linens need stripping and washing.  I'm trying to find a point of leaving that all behind so we can really live and enjoy these days together.  I want my own Polaroid picture album of awesome travels.

So, instead of scapegoating the blog, I'll work on the real problem: me.  And then I'll write all about it.