The Worst Way to Celebrate Women’s Day

I woke up to a sink full of dishes and piles of clean, unfolded laundry the dogs were chewing their bones on.  I got my three daughters up for school, laid out their clothes, only to hear one complain her skirt was too long and the the other complain hers was too short.  I made three lunches to nourish their bodies while they are away from me, and made sure their homework was placed in their signed binders.  I drove my middle schooler to the bus stop and as she exited my car I said, “today is International Women’s Day, do something beautiful.”  She quickly responded, “Mom, yesterday was National Touch a Tit Day.”  

My heart burned as I asked whether she was touched. She rolled her eyes and shut the door.

I’ve seen many posts about International Women’s Day online.  Women laugh and poke fun at the stupidity of losing a day’s pay or letting their kids starve. Men make “locker room jokes” about “getting back in the kitchen” or wishing they had told their wife to do their laundry earlier.  I’ve seen the organizer of today’s strike get called a terrorist because she is a Muslim and the protestors equated to a cult.  

I myself, struggled with finding meaning in the strike. The world needs women.  

The world needs her giving heart and creative mind.  The world needs her to make the boo boo’s go away with a single, soft kiss.  The world needs her to squeeze out the day’s hate with a warm embrace.  The world needs her reassurance and her encouragement; that no matter what we face, we will persevere.  The world needs her to prove there is no better reward than that which comes from pain.  The world needs her to fight, because we know that nobody offers more protection than an angry mama bear.  

Women must be more active in society, but more importantly in their own home.  If your husband, brother, uncle, or friend makes a crude, gender specific joke, call him on it.  That doesn’t make you a feminist – that makes you a hero to any little girl who you saved from hearing it at school.  

If your husband, brother, uncle, or friend talks about doing things to women without their consent, call them on it.  Little boys will take those “jokes” to school and enact them on little girls, for example touching her breasts due to “National Touch a Tit Day.”

If you find out that your daughter was harassed at school, call the mother f* school.  There are things the school can do, the most immediate being an announcement about respect.  

Don’t like how the school handled it?  Take action in your community.  Build awareness on gender specific issues- Make a PSA and post it online (ours will be on youtube soon), pass out flyers you created, attend town hall meetings and make sure there are laws that protect gender equality.  

Whatever you do, don’t be silent.  If we accept harassment and groping in middle school, what is to be accepted or ignored later?  One in three girls are raped before the age of 18.  We must use our voices and teach our daughters to do the same.  

It’s ironic that I struggled with how to celebrate International Women’s Day and then was smacked in the face by my daughter’s revelation of National Touch a Tit Day.  

I will celebrate by continuing to raise three amazing little women.  One day I hope they will take the torch and bring new light to the world.  As a woman, I know that in our society, her torch will be put out by many people in her lifetime, especially men.  I know that this is not the first time she will be harassed at school or work.  I know that I cannot protect her from all the gender specific “jokes” in her lifetime.  As her mother, I will teach her about sticks and stones, but as a woman I know that she will sometimes feel like they are boulders holding her down.  In the end, I hope her torch is still lit and that enough action in her lifetime keeps her world, and the world of those around her turning.

And now, on International Women’s Day in 2017, I will fight the fight by writing an email to my daughter’s middle school about tits.

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The Domestic Struggle is Real

 

Have you ever had a week where you feel like your flaws consume you?  I’ve been so down on myself this week and while I think it’s hormone related, I can’t seem to pull myself out of it.  I feel unmotivated and avoid everything from taking the dogs out to complex things fixing my daughter’s bed so she can actually sleep in it.  I’m being hard on myself for the condition of my house right now, instead of getting up and cleaning it.  I have only been to the gym once this week and my skin feels awful.  I haven’t wanted to shave, put makeup on, and avoid mirrors.  I feel physically and emotionally blah!

My schedule is out of whack.  For the last two weeks I’ve been trying to get my mom and kids to come with me in the evening and somehow convinced myself I didn’t have to go in the morning.  Also, since all of my laundry was dirty, I had further reason to skip the gym.  I even told myself, wash them today and go to the gym tonight, and then didn’t even take the time to swap the wet stuff.  In fact, I had to wash it twice before swapping it to the dryer days later.  It will probably stink when I do wear it to the gym… If I ever go back.

I feel like I clean constantly and my house always looks like shit.  I can’t count how many times I’ve cleaned up dog pee and poop this week.  I think there’s still some under the coffee table because every once in awhile I smell it.  Of course, it could be on the pile of laundry that still hasn’t gotten done.  Eight loads this week, and after camping there are at least eight more to go.  I clean my kid’s room constantly.  So much so, I don’t even clean my own room, but I did this week.  On Monday, the kids had off school so I made them clean their rooms while I cleaned mine.  I got about halfway through my room due to all the interruptions.  The result in the kid’s rooms, a broken bed and a pile of garbage, clothes, and toys I pulled out from underneath.  The eight loads of laundry I did were mostly theirs, but they haven’t bothered to put them away.  Probably doesn’t help that the broken bed is now propped against their closet door.  How does their room get so messy, so fast?  I seem to be donating or throwing away shit every couple weeks.  

Homework has been an afterthought this week and I’m not sure why.  My older two are getting better at doing it themselves, but my youngest probably hasn’t read for a month – so much for my English teacher roots.  Kaitlyn is developing the typical teenage “I hate everything” attitude.  At night I hope it’s nothing more and pray that my kids are happy.  Madie and Brent got into it last night and I always seem to be in the middle.  They’re best buds most of the time, but by 8pm I have 4 very tired and cranky individuals in my house.  All a mama wants is peace at that hour.  They all fall asleep around 9:00 I’m alone again with my guilt.

I try to give myself the freedom to not feel guilt about EVERYTHING.

  • The house is always a mess – You have 3 kids and 3 animals, of course it is!
  • You can never seem to complete a job – Nobody with all these responsibilities could.
  • You didn’t eat well this week – So what? Eat better next week.
  • You didn’t go to the gym enough – Double up next week.
  • You look like hell – Shave and go put make-up on.

But my surroundings are still the same.  I have piles of laundry waiting to be folded while another week’s worth lies in the bathroom floor.  My kids still have a broken bed and my dogs still haven’t been walked.  I have a garage sale tomorrow and the last thing I want to do, is enter that garage and prepare for that!  

But I will…

         I always do.  

Now, it’s your turn.  Comment below and tell me about your struggles.  What you do to get yourself out of a funk?  Why are some weeks worse than others?

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There Goes My Baby

My youngest daughter, got on a bike at 5.  After a couple pushes, she coasted off into the sunset, only to fall seconds later.  She insisted we put the training wheels back on and for years we let her hobble along.

Fast forward two years (and many camping trips later), Santa brought a brand new bike for our growing girl.  Last weekend, during our annual Valentine’s Day camping trip she got tired of watching her sisters ride off without her and begged us to help her.  The road was rocky but she was persistent.  On her second try, I told her to look at the road ahead and it will help her stay balanced.  Off she went!

As I watched her ride off down the windy road, I got teary.  There goes my baby…  From walking to running and swimming to riding her bike, the milestones keep ticking away like the hands of a clock.  I can’t seem to stop time although I’ve done my best to delay it.  I hope the lesson I taught her, to focus on the road ahead, no matter the bumps in the road, will continue to guide her, even when I’m not holding on to the back of her seat.

Do I really have to let go?

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