This makes me so mad I don't know if I can even put my thoughts into coherent sentences. The gall some people have! Some people have apparently forgotten the whole reason women fought for equal rights: so women would have the right to choose whether or not they wanted to work outside the home!
Okay, the gist of the article is this: some professor named Linda Hirschman has written a book in which she asserts educated women are making a grave mistake by becoming stay-at-home moms. She says they can't possibly be satisfied by giving up their careers, and women who claim that they've never wanted to be anything but a homemaker are basically lying and fooling themselves.
You know, I just now remembered that in high school one of my classmates made this same claim--that women have an obligation to work. I was so stunned that someone would make a comment like that that I couldn't even respond, and I find myself in the same position now. It's just such an absurd, ridiculous, and offensive statement that all the arguments against it seem way too obvious to outline.
I feel doubly affronted, because Hirschman's claim is not just a direct criticism of my choices, but of my mother's as well--even more of a criticism of her than of me, in fact. I've always wanted to be a writer and a teacher, and I knew I wanted to be in the classroom, although I knew I wouldn't be there for the whole of my working years and would eventually be at home with my kids. But my mom is one of those women for whom Hirschman apparently has no respect: a woman who desired nthing else than to put her life into her family. Yeah, gosh, what a mistake--to want to dedicate yourself to raising your children, being there for them whenever they need you, supporting your husband and taking care of him and the home you share. I can say, as a child of a stay-at-home mom, that the security I felt knowing my mom was always there for me played a direct role in making my child as happy as it was. I always knew she was available in case I got hurt or sick at school; she was was always there when I came home in the afternoon to make me a snack and ask how my day was and listen to my lame school stories. When I was in a play at school or had a choir concert, she didn't have to juggle work or beg off with a "I promise I'll come to the next one, honey!" She was always there, and not many of my friends could say the same.
"Don't give it more time than it deserves," my husband just told me. He's right. This kind of crap naturally makes me want to go face-to-face with this chick and tell her off, but what's the point, really? She's not going to listen to me, because, in her eyes, I'm apparently missing a few screws--why else would an educated woman like myself choose to give up a successful teaching career for a shaky career that lets me stay home? But before I sign off, one last comment: make no mistake, I have nothing but respect for women who have to work. Sometimes putting your kids first means having to work outside the home, and I totally understand that. I'll admit I don't understand people who want to work rather than stay home and raise their kids, but hey, just because I don't understand it doesn't mean I'm going to knock it. Women's lib was about letting you make that choice, so you go ahead and make it however you want, just as I have. Just don't follow this woman's poor lead and look down on those of us who ahve chosen the home as our office.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Religious Freedom
It doesn't matter if you think Christianity is true or not, this case isn't about a specific religion--it's about religious freedom in general. Go to this site and you can send a letter to Pres. Bush asking him to intervene. Who knows if he'll be able to do anything, but it can't hurt. No one should be put on trial for refusing to convert--Islam, Christian, Pagan, whatever.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Week Six Check In and a Nutrition Lesson
Here's a little nugget of information for you: did you know that eating the same food over and over for a long period of time can cause your body to become allergic to it? That's what I learned at the nutritionist this week when I gave her my food diary for the lats three weeks and she saw that my breakfast is always peanut butter on toast and an apple, my lunch is always eggs with cheese, my dinner (when we're not out to eat) is always turkey and provalone. "Ohhh, we need some variety here," she said. Thing is, the fact that I'm not eating Cheerios at all three meals like I sometimes did during my pregnancy means that, to me, I am eating a variety of foods.
So I'm a little frustrated, because the booklet she gave me that outlines all the foods I can have didn't have much in it that I actually like--in fact, peanut butter, toast, apples (or sometimes strawberries), eggs, provalone, and turkey were about it, hence the reason my menu looks the same every day. So that means I'm going to have to be an adult and expand my palate. I'm so not in the mood for that.
(And frankly, I'm a little dubious about the whole allergy thing. I mean, for real, my dad has eaten Cheerios for breakfast for as long as I can remember, and he doesn't have an allergy to them. Heck, I was pretty much the same way with cereal--the type may have changed often, but it was still cereal, every day for breakfast, quite often for a snack as well. Maybe it's only certain foods that are more prone to allergy? I don't know. I need to do a little more research.)
Regardless, the news she gave me about my weight loss was encouraging. Two more pounds of water weight gone, 1.2 pounds of fat, and sadly, .5 pounds of muscle. Turns out--here's another nutritional nugget for you--when your body gets hungry and your blood sugar drops, it doesn't go after all the fat your body has stored. It goes after your muscle! No more justifying skipping meals for me. THe scale may say you're losing weight, but it's not the weight you want to lose.
Okay, so, I can't remember what I was last week, and frankly I'm too lazy to check at the moment, so I'll just tell you that I'm down to 158.6 pounds and 35.5% body fat. I was so happy to see that 5 in the tens column. :) We're getting there, slowly but surely....
So I'm a little frustrated, because the booklet she gave me that outlines all the foods I can have didn't have much in it that I actually like--in fact, peanut butter, toast, apples (or sometimes strawberries), eggs, provalone, and turkey were about it, hence the reason my menu looks the same every day. So that means I'm going to have to be an adult and expand my palate. I'm so not in the mood for that.
(And frankly, I'm a little dubious about the whole allergy thing. I mean, for real, my dad has eaten Cheerios for breakfast for as long as I can remember, and he doesn't have an allergy to them. Heck, I was pretty much the same way with cereal--the type may have changed often, but it was still cereal, every day for breakfast, quite often for a snack as well. Maybe it's only certain foods that are more prone to allergy? I don't know. I need to do a little more research.)
Regardless, the news she gave me about my weight loss was encouraging. Two more pounds of water weight gone, 1.2 pounds of fat, and sadly, .5 pounds of muscle. Turns out--here's another nutritional nugget for you--when your body gets hungry and your blood sugar drops, it doesn't go after all the fat your body has stored. It goes after your muscle! No more justifying skipping meals for me. THe scale may say you're losing weight, but it's not the weight you want to lose.
Okay, so, I can't remember what I was last week, and frankly I'm too lazy to check at the moment, so I'll just tell you that I'm down to 158.6 pounds and 35.5% body fat. I was so happy to see that 5 in the tens column. :) We're getting there, slowly but surely....
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Walking through the shadows
I know some of you have occasionally checked out the blog called "My Insides" that I used to have listed in my Links section. You'll notice it's gone because, as you may have already discovered, the blog itself was taken down. But since some of you were into reading it, I wanted to direct you to Katie's mom's blog where you can follow up on what's going on with them. In a nutshell, it ain't good. Please pray for Katie, her kids, and her family. Thanks.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Time to Curl Up...
...with another awesome book by one of my top favorite authors, Jodi Picoult! If you haven't yet experienced a Jodi novel, I greatly pity you and direct you to pick one up post haste. I would suggest "My Sister's Keeper" or "Keeping Faith." Her newest, "The Tenth Circle," incorporates a comic book that is being written by the main character--very very cool. I'm not that far in and I'm already hooked. Time to go read it and hopefully finish it so I can get on with the rest of my life; all else stops when new Jodi arrives....
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Memory Lane
I'm in the process of cleaning the room that will soon become my own office. For months we've been stashing boxes in here, knowing the room wouldn't be used until Abby was born and I was ready to start writing again. Well, that time has come, but first I must clean.
There's a box in here filled with stuff that was originally in Abby's room. When we cleaned out her room, the box of stuff we needed to keep was put in here, so I'm going through it now to try to find homes for all the stuff inside. One of the items has floated from box to box, room to room, since 1992. It is my sophomore year (of high school) assignment notebook.
Why the deuce, you may be asking yourself, does she still have that?! I'm asking myself the same question, and you'd think that, since an answer is not easily determined, it would be no problem to toss it in the trash and be done with it. But I just can't do it. And I think it's because I'm a slave to my memories.
There are dot matrix-printed lyrics to worship songs taped to the inside cover, songs that we sang at the high school service at church. There are penciled hall passes with ink signatures from our choir director, perfect for getting access to anywhere, anytime at Rolling Meadows High School. And on nearly every page, especially in those useless address book pages in the back (who puts addresses in the back of a book meant only to last a year?) are notes back and forth between Meg Ryan and myself.
No, not that Meg Ryan. The Meg Ryan who is now Meg Gronau who just had Baby Eddie last week, as noted in the previous blog posting. Meg was my closest friend that year, and we both shared a passion for writing, not just in our assignment notebooks, but on stories that we co-wrote during study hall and lunch and other dead times during the day. She was--and still is--hilarious, and quirky in all the best ways, and very creative.
When I read those notes about silly things and mundane things and things that were riotously funny at the time but now mean nothing to me, I'm reminded of how simple life was then and how much possibly lay before us like a wide-open prairie. It reminds me of a time of less responsibility and more play, of a time when you got to see your friends every day because they were in classes with you and not thousands of miles away with jobs and husbands and kids. There were no paychecks to work for--unless you wanted to--no utilities to pay, groceries to buy, children to worry about. Will I get a date for Homecoming? a part in the musical? a decent grade on my geometry test? Oh, to have such trifling worries now!
So I guess that's why I can't just up and toss this ratty old book. It's not just the memroies themselves, it's the sense of freedom and anticipation about the future that they bring back to me. I read those notes, those assignment explanations and appointments, and I'm taken back to sixteen, a place that, for all its heartaches and life lessons, was not so bad. So the book will get put back in the box, or some other box where I can hide my memories so that, one day, Abby will have something to look at on a rainy day.
Abby is sprawled on my bed, lazily observing me as I fold the laundry. "Mom, tell me about when you were a kid."
I smile. "Kind of a broad topic. Which part?"
"I dunno. Whatever part you want."
I set another T-shirt on the pile as I consider her request, then remember the box on the shelf in the closet. "How about I give you a glimpse of my high school years?" I retrieve the box and set it beside Abby, who is now upright and eagerly removes the lid.
She rummages through the theater programs, birthday cards and newspaper clippings before removing a navy blue notebook. "What's this thing with the Greenpeace sticker on it?"
"Ah, that's my assignment notebook from my sophomore year."
Abby flips it open and inspects the front cover, then turns the pages slowly. "Why does it say 'Pippin' on October 18th? And whose handwriting is this all over your book? And what's a V-Show?"
I put down a sweater and smile. "Oh wow, my assignment book. I haven't seen that in years! Let's see...well, Pippin was the musical that year that I desperately wanted to be in but didn't audition for because I was too chicken...V-Show stands for Variety Show; it was the talent show they did a couple times a year, and I was in that. And the other person's handwriting was from my friend Meg..."
There's a box in here filled with stuff that was originally in Abby's room. When we cleaned out her room, the box of stuff we needed to keep was put in here, so I'm going through it now to try to find homes for all the stuff inside. One of the items has floated from box to box, room to room, since 1992. It is my sophomore year (of high school) assignment notebook.
Why the deuce, you may be asking yourself, does she still have that?! I'm asking myself the same question, and you'd think that, since an answer is not easily determined, it would be no problem to toss it in the trash and be done with it. But I just can't do it. And I think it's because I'm a slave to my memories.
There are dot matrix-printed lyrics to worship songs taped to the inside cover, songs that we sang at the high school service at church. There are penciled hall passes with ink signatures from our choir director, perfect for getting access to anywhere, anytime at Rolling Meadows High School. And on nearly every page, especially in those useless address book pages in the back (who puts addresses in the back of a book meant only to last a year?) are notes back and forth between Meg Ryan and myself.
No, not that Meg Ryan. The Meg Ryan who is now Meg Gronau who just had Baby Eddie last week, as noted in the previous blog posting. Meg was my closest friend that year, and we both shared a passion for writing, not just in our assignment notebooks, but on stories that we co-wrote during study hall and lunch and other dead times during the day. She was--and still is--hilarious, and quirky in all the best ways, and very creative.
When I read those notes about silly things and mundane things and things that were riotously funny at the time but now mean nothing to me, I'm reminded of how simple life was then and how much possibly lay before us like a wide-open prairie. It reminds me of a time of less responsibility and more play, of a time when you got to see your friends every day because they were in classes with you and not thousands of miles away with jobs and husbands and kids. There were no paychecks to work for--unless you wanted to--no utilities to pay, groceries to buy, children to worry about. Will I get a date for Homecoming? a part in the musical? a decent grade on my geometry test? Oh, to have such trifling worries now!
So I guess that's why I can't just up and toss this ratty old book. It's not just the memroies themselves, it's the sense of freedom and anticipation about the future that they bring back to me. I read those notes, those assignment explanations and appointments, and I'm taken back to sixteen, a place that, for all its heartaches and life lessons, was not so bad. So the book will get put back in the box, or some other box where I can hide my memories so that, one day, Abby will have something to look at on a rainy day.
Abby is sprawled on my bed, lazily observing me as I fold the laundry. "Mom, tell me about when you were a kid."
I smile. "Kind of a broad topic. Which part?"
"I dunno. Whatever part you want."
I set another T-shirt on the pile as I consider her request, then remember the box on the shelf in the closet. "How about I give you a glimpse of my high school years?" I retrieve the box and set it beside Abby, who is now upright and eagerly removes the lid.
She rummages through the theater programs, birthday cards and newspaper clippings before removing a navy blue notebook. "What's this thing with the Greenpeace sticker on it?"
"Ah, that's my assignment notebook from my sophomore year."
Abby flips it open and inspects the front cover, then turns the pages slowly. "Why does it say 'Pippin' on October 18th? And whose handwriting is this all over your book? And what's a V-Show?"
I put down a sweater and smile. "Oh wow, my assignment book. I haven't seen that in years! Let's see...well, Pippin was the musical that year that I desperately wanted to be in but didn't audition for because I was too chicken...V-Show stands for Variety Show; it was the talent show they did a couple times a year, and I was in that. And the other person's handwriting was from my friend Meg..."
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Christmas has left the building.
FINALLY! The Christmas tree and decorations have been put away. I can't believe it's the second week of March and we're just now doing this, but those of you with kids will I'm sure understand. Thing is, these last few days have been more wintery than December-February were. In fact, it's raining and hailing right now and there was snow on the lower hills this morning.
I also finally got up the energy and motivation to go through my closet and weed out the maternity clothes I no longer wear. I ended up finding a bag of clothes a friend gave me back when I was, oh, I dunno, maybe five months preggo. Best part is, it had a bunch of t-shirts and even a pair of pants that I can still wear! I was so relieved. I went jean shopping last week, a chore that is nerve-wracking and ego-destroying even at the best of times. After trying on about 14 pairs of jeans and khaki's, I managed to find one--ONE--pair of jeans that fit. It was so depressing. I need the weather to warm up FAST so I can start wearing shorts and skirts again.
I also finally got up the energy and motivation to go through my closet and weed out the maternity clothes I no longer wear. I ended up finding a bag of clothes a friend gave me back when I was, oh, I dunno, maybe five months preggo. Best part is, it had a bunch of t-shirts and even a pair of pants that I can still wear! I was so relieved. I went jean shopping last week, a chore that is nerve-wracking and ego-destroying even at the best of times. After trying on about 14 pairs of jeans and khaki's, I managed to find one--ONE--pair of jeans that fit. It was so depressing. I need the weather to warm up FAST so I can start wearing shorts and skirts again.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Welcome Eddie!!!
Congratulations are in order for my friend Meg and her family--on Wednesday they welcomed Edward Cornelius into the world! Check out her blog for the full story and adorable pictures. If you haven't read her blog before, trust me, you'll want to keep it on your frequently visited list--she's a fantastic writer, probably the funniest person I've ever known, and just all-around cool.
Adventures at the Lake
Yeah, I know I didn't post my five week check in, but that's because I sucked last week. I didn't lose any weight (although my body fat went down to 35.5%, so that's a slight improvement) and I only walked 3 days. But my disappointment in my undisciplined self was greatly reduced today when I walked my first post-baby 15 minute mile! I was on my way to a second one but just barely missed it; still, 16 minutes (which two of yesterday's laps were as well) ain't nothin' to sneeze at.
Another first: I jogged. Now, granted, it was on a decline, and it probably would have taken more energy to hold myself back than to just give in, but darn if I didn't jog for a good twenty seconds or so during that last lap! My butt was in shock for a good half mile afterwards. It's sad when your trunk has so much junk that it follows the rest of your body about half a second behind--when the rest of me was up, it was down, and when the rest of me was down, it was up. But hey, I still count it as an impressive feat.
THis afternoon we're meeting my brother and his wife and taking our grandmother out for lunch at P.F. Chang's. I'm in for another week of poor eating, I know, but at least I've seen how much I can get away with before it's reflected in the scale. I'll stay away from the rice today and just stick to the honey shrimp. Mmmmm-mmmmm......
Another first: I jogged. Now, granted, it was on a decline, and it probably would have taken more energy to hold myself back than to just give in, but darn if I didn't jog for a good twenty seconds or so during that last lap! My butt was in shock for a good half mile afterwards. It's sad when your trunk has so much junk that it follows the rest of your body about half a second behind--when the rest of me was up, it was down, and when the rest of me was down, it was up. But hey, I still count it as an impressive feat.
THis afternoon we're meeting my brother and his wife and taking our grandmother out for lunch at P.F. Chang's. I'm in for another week of poor eating, I know, but at least I've seen how much I can get away with before it's reflected in the scale. I'll stay away from the rice today and just stick to the honey shrimp. Mmmmm-mmmmm......
Sunday, March 05, 2006
One Month Check In
Okay, I swear this isn't going to turn into Alison's Online Weight Watchers Blog--I just haven't had anything else to post about lately! My apologies to those who keep looking here in the hopes there will be something actually worth reading about. I promise to write something more interesting soon. :)
Week 4 Starting Stats:
weight: 164.2
body fat %: 36.5
Cheating: Yeah, a lot again. But I realized that things like ice cream and candy bars that once would have sounded sooooo good just don't anymore. Hallelujah. 'Course I did eat six Tagalong Girl Scout Cookies, 3 in two sittings. But even those didn't taste as good as I thought they would.
Week 4 Ending Stats:
weight: 161.6--2.6 pounds lost!
body fat %: 37.5--1% gained--but I so don't care. :)
TOTAL WEIGHT LOSS: 11 pounds! WOOHOO!!!!!!! And the best part? I can totally tell. The maternity pants I've been wearing really don't fit anymore--the waists are floppy. I can only wear two pairs now, which is awesome on one hand, but really sucks on the other because I obviously still can't wear my original clothes. So I have to do a little bit of shopping. But for once I don't care. I'm going to Old Navy with my mom on Tuesday to get some jeans, and I figure all I really need is one pair of khakis on top of that and I'll be fine. I've already invested in a couple new shirts and will get a few more since the majority of my maternity shirts are way too big now, too. Yay!
Week 4 Starting Stats:
weight: 164.2
body fat %: 36.5
Cheating: Yeah, a lot again. But I realized that things like ice cream and candy bars that once would have sounded sooooo good just don't anymore. Hallelujah. 'Course I did eat six Tagalong Girl Scout Cookies, 3 in two sittings. But even those didn't taste as good as I thought they would.
Week 4 Ending Stats:
weight: 161.6--2.6 pounds lost!
body fat %: 37.5--1% gained--but I so don't care. :)
TOTAL WEIGHT LOSS: 11 pounds! WOOHOO!!!!!!! And the best part? I can totally tell. The maternity pants I've been wearing really don't fit anymore--the waists are floppy. I can only wear two pairs now, which is awesome on one hand, but really sucks on the other because I obviously still can't wear my original clothes. So I have to do a little bit of shopping. But for once I don't care. I'm going to Old Navy with my mom on Tuesday to get some jeans, and I figure all I really need is one pair of khakis on top of that and I'll be fine. I've already invested in a couple new shirts and will get a few more since the majority of my maternity shirts are way too big now, too. Yay!
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