Forgive me for being a bit bold here, but it seems that every day a different freedom is being stripped away in America. I am not a protester, argumentative, and while convicted personally, am not one to bring up controversy for the sake of debate (for that, you'll need my husband, who is courageous). No, I'd rather see the world through rose-colored glasses, living in the rural splendor of the natural outdoors, raising boys to be gentleman warriors.
But, seriously, even though I'm not a doomsday paranoid, or wrapped in conspiracy theory, I am still gravely concerned.
First, there is the looming HHS mandate, which requires employers to provide, without cost, prescription drugs that cause abortion. Religious or conscientious objections are not allowed; you must comply or be financially destroyed. It's not even a Catholic issue anymore, see the link. Regardless of why you are against killing babies, regardless of the fact that human life begins at conception, it doesn't matter. You must pay for abortion.
The second is related to religious freedom. Franciscan University of Steubenville, an Catholic university, is being investigated for its handling of homosexuality in course work. I honestly cannot find the words to express my feelings on this issue. As an alumni of the school, and someone who knows other students and alumni who identify themselves as homosexual, the quote on Church teaching stands true at the school, which is "Franciscan University follows Catholic Church teaching in regard to homosexuality and treats homosexual persons with 'respect, compassion, and sensitivity (Catechism of the Catholic Church, No 2358) while holding homosexual acts as 'intrinsically disordered.' "
The above means what it says--FUS practices what it preaches, but will not back down on the beliefs that make the university what it is. Now, simply for being a Catholic school educating students with Catholic teaching, they are under attack. Seriously, the church Mark and I attended while he was in law school was protested by the Westboro Baptist Church, if that says anything about the Catholic Church! We are part of a compassionate congregation, but does that mean that the Church cannot take a moral stance on actions???
I am baffled. Everything I have been taught to believe about freedom in America is coming into question. I am now waiting for the next bomb to be dropped, and wondering what the government will begin to require of me in the raising and educating of my children, or the practicing of my faith.
Finally, at the 2008 DNC, the words "abortion should be safe, legal, and rare" was taken out of the platform of the DFL. It was not reinstated in 2012. In doing so, it begs the question of the DFL if they then believe abortion should be dangerous and frequent. The platform changes at the DNC were such a monstrosity that, while I previously hadn't associated myself with finality to any political party, and instead voted based on each individual candidate, I am so appalled and disgusted with the direction it has taken, that at this point, I will not even consider a candidate from the DFL. I'm keeping a safe distance from any association.
Civil disobedience? Maybe we're not too far. We will not comply.
Viva la Revolucion!
Showing posts with label I use my words.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I use my words.. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Bringing Up, French Style: Part Un
I just finished "Bringing Up Bebe," by Pamela Druckerman. Even though it's not a parenting book of how-tos, it's one of the more interesting parenting book I've ever read. It explores a culture of consistent parenting, so rooted in French society that French parents don't even know they are doing anything special. It's not all perfect, but it's highly entertaining and very interesting.
The first point that grabbed me about the book, is a difference between American and French mothers. The author explains that American mothers often judge how good a job they are doing with how difficult they make their lives. It's the typical American Martyr Mother/Woman. We earn extra points if our pregnancies are rough, if our babies sleep terribly, if our husbands work long hours, or if we do all the housekeeping/cooking without any help.
I am so guilty of this. Here's the thing, we kinda relish in it. Like, the more we sacrifice ourselves, the better we think we are for it. And we compete, too! Have you ever been venting to a mom about a difficult baby stage, or that you need more help at home? Most likely, the answer from your mom-friend is something like, "Oh you think that was tough, little Johnny woke up through the night until he was four!" Or, "At least your husband comes home at six mine never is."
I'm not criticizing my friends at all, but seriously, it's what we do, isn't it?
The French moms are on a totally different wavelength. They are devoted and love their kids, but they have an idea about balancing family life, and about le couple being a priority. There is no such thing as a "child king" in a French family, because that's not the way the French family culture functions. Children are doted on and loved, but not at the expense of the mothers personhood (which includes being a wife and a woman, something very cherished by the French--the female mystique).
I still need to chew on a lot of what was written in the first part of this book, because the ideas vary so differently not in the way I mother, but in what I deem as devotion to the kids. Even though I might be better off going to the gym everyday, getting a date night once a week, and taking an entire day away from the kids that doesn't include grocery shopping, somehow, my mind has deemed it an unworthy pursuit, because it might not include constant, loving sacrifice.
Anyone else out there read this book? Or have a thought about the French? ;-) .
The first point that grabbed me about the book, is a difference between American and French mothers. The author explains that American mothers often judge how good a job they are doing with how difficult they make their lives. It's the typical American Martyr Mother/Woman. We earn extra points if our pregnancies are rough, if our babies sleep terribly, if our husbands work long hours, or if we do all the housekeeping/cooking without any help.
I am so guilty of this. Here's the thing, we kinda relish in it. Like, the more we sacrifice ourselves, the better we think we are for it. And we compete, too! Have you ever been venting to a mom about a difficult baby stage, or that you need more help at home? Most likely, the answer from your mom-friend is something like, "Oh you think that was tough, little Johnny woke up through the night until he was four!" Or, "At least your husband comes home at six mine never is."
I'm not criticizing my friends at all, but seriously, it's what we do, isn't it?
The French moms are on a totally different wavelength. They are devoted and love their kids, but they have an idea about balancing family life, and about le couple being a priority. There is no such thing as a "child king" in a French family, because that's not the way the French family culture functions. Children are doted on and loved, but not at the expense of the mothers personhood (which includes being a wife and a woman, something very cherished by the French--the female mystique).
I still need to chew on a lot of what was written in the first part of this book, because the ideas vary so differently not in the way I mother, but in what I deem as devotion to the kids. Even though I might be better off going to the gym everyday, getting a date night once a week, and taking an entire day away from the kids that doesn't include grocery shopping, somehow, my mind has deemed it an unworthy pursuit, because it might not include constant, loving sacrifice.
Anyone else out there read this book? Or have a thought about the French? ;-) .
Monday, January 23, 2012
March for Life.
Today is the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, and what pro-lifers call "March for Life," because of the 100k strong protesters at the capital. I've been to March for Life before, and it was hard, cold, and sad. It is not a rally, nor a party. It is a mourning of generation after generation of those who are nameless and faceless; silenced.
We talk openly with adults when the kids are around about politics, theology, and our beliefs. They don't catch most of what we're saying, so even though we openly talk about abortion and other controversial topics, when I asked Luke today if he knew what abortion was, he couldn't tell me. We pray for the unborn and for an end to abortion daily, and yet, his vocabulary doesn't yet comprehend violence against the unborn.
And today at lunch time, explaining to Luke all the people I knew at March for Life and our fight for the unborn, he became quickly confused about what we were fighting against. "Why," "Why," "Why," he had so many questions,"But why," why would babies need someone to fight for them? Aren't they safe?
No, dear child, not in this country.
I have discussed abortion with people many times. Those for and against. I've argued and fought over it; become impassioned with rage over it, but have also been compassionate and understanding. I hadn't, until today, explained it to a child.
I answered his questions modestly but truthfully--appropriate, I believe, for his level of understanding. And every word, even watered down and simplified, brought tears. Before I knew it, I was crying at the kitchen table over cheesy bread and tomato soup.
It's a sad thing to rub off some of the innocence that children are born with. After all, our children are surrounded by friends and family who adore babies and see each one as a blessing.
And I realized that talking about abortion is much different than actually explaining what it is. How painful it is to say out loud. There is a lot I want to write but can't. Instead, we pray for the unborn, we pray for an end to abortion, even though the children can't fathom a world of unloved babies.
While I can't be there today, I am raising the next generation in hopes that a March for Life for them will someday be unnecessary.
We talk openly with adults when the kids are around about politics, theology, and our beliefs. They don't catch most of what we're saying, so even though we openly talk about abortion and other controversial topics, when I asked Luke today if he knew what abortion was, he couldn't tell me. We pray for the unborn and for an end to abortion daily, and yet, his vocabulary doesn't yet comprehend violence against the unborn.
And today at lunch time, explaining to Luke all the people I knew at March for Life and our fight for the unborn, he became quickly confused about what we were fighting against. "Why," "Why," "Why," he had so many questions,"But why," why would babies need someone to fight for them? Aren't they safe?
No, dear child, not in this country.
I have discussed abortion with people many times. Those for and against. I've argued and fought over it; become impassioned with rage over it, but have also been compassionate and understanding. I hadn't, until today, explained it to a child.
I answered his questions modestly but truthfully--appropriate, I believe, for his level of understanding. And every word, even watered down and simplified, brought tears. Before I knew it, I was crying at the kitchen table over cheesy bread and tomato soup.
It's a sad thing to rub off some of the innocence that children are born with. After all, our children are surrounded by friends and family who adore babies and see each one as a blessing.
And I realized that talking about abortion is much different than actually explaining what it is. How painful it is to say out loud. There is a lot I want to write but can't. Instead, we pray for the unborn, we pray for an end to abortion, even though the children can't fathom a world of unloved babies.
While I can't be there today, I am raising the next generation in hopes that a March for Life for them will someday be unnecessary.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Mouthpiece
It's big news right now that the Duggar family is expecting their 20th child. It seems that while their family is overjoyed with the news, everyone else feels they need to criticize them. One particular comment that seems to be recurring is calling Michelle Duggar "selfish," for being "not happy with what she has," "making her other kids raise the little kids," comments about her health, and being "excessive."
How can we call a woman selfish who sees every child as a precious gift from God? How can we call a woman selfish for joyfully enduring months of exhaustion, sickness, fatigue, and the physical tolls of pregnancy? How can a selfish woman cope with labor, delivery, recovery, and then months upon months of breastfeeding, sleepless nights and diaper changes?
Most importantly, how can we call a woman selfish when she does these things because she believes it is her purpose, when it fulfills her because she is upholding her belief that all life is sacred, and she has been abundantly blessed for recognizing it?
This husband and wife have given everything of themselves not only in giving their children life, but to provide and educate them through the example of Christian service; putting others before themselves as Christ did.
Say what you will about the Duggar family, but selfish? No way.
How can we call a woman selfish who sees every child as a precious gift from God? How can we call a woman selfish for joyfully enduring months of exhaustion, sickness, fatigue, and the physical tolls of pregnancy? How can a selfish woman cope with labor, delivery, recovery, and then months upon months of breastfeeding, sleepless nights and diaper changes?
Most importantly, how can we call a woman selfish when she does these things because she believes it is her purpose, when it fulfills her because she is upholding her belief that all life is sacred, and she has been abundantly blessed for recognizing it?
This husband and wife have given everything of themselves not only in giving their children life, but to provide and educate them through the example of Christian service; putting others before themselves as Christ did.
Say what you will about the Duggar family, but selfish? No way.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Grammar Boys.
I had a very positive college experience. However, one professor was a struggle. The only thing I ever learned from her was the a doctorate degree couldn't guarantee intelligence, but it could guarantee tenure. I don't mean to sound cruel, but it was really that bad.
Once, after giving a presentation that I had carefully planned for, this professor singled me out to go on a diatribe about grammar. Apparently I had misspoken and had failed to use an adverb during my presentation. Although I can't remember the exact context, I imagine that I said something along the lines of, "After rigorous intervention in phonetical awareness, the student continued to perform poor on benchmark exams."
This omission dropped my score an entire letter grade. The professor pointed out that correct adverb use was being lost in schools and speaking language. Who knew? Perhaps out of pride or resentment, after that presentation I went on an adverb extravaganza, using adverbs whenever I could, and then teaching my children, from their first words, correct adverb usage.
Maybe my professor taught me something after all? Hum...jury's still out.
"Mom, I hurt my leg bad."
"Badly!"
"Dad, you did that awesome!"
"Awesomely!"
"Mal, you sang pretty."
"Prettily!!!!!"
This morning my two year old had a tummy ache. He crawled on my lap and wrapped his arms around me. Then he pointed to his tummy and said, "It hurts so badly."
Maybe adverb use isn't becoming obsolete after all. ;-)
Once, after giving a presentation that I had carefully planned for, this professor singled me out to go on a diatribe about grammar. Apparently I had misspoken and had failed to use an adverb during my presentation. Although I can't remember the exact context, I imagine that I said something along the lines of, "After rigorous intervention in phonetical awareness, the student continued to perform poor on benchmark exams."
This omission dropped my score an entire letter grade. The professor pointed out that correct adverb use was being lost in schools and speaking language. Who knew? Perhaps out of pride or resentment, after that presentation I went on an adverb extravaganza, using adverbs whenever I could, and then teaching my children, from their first words, correct adverb usage.
Maybe my professor taught me something after all? Hum...jury's still out.
"Mom, I hurt my leg bad."
"Badly!"
"Dad, you did that awesome!"
"Awesomely!"
"Mal, you sang pretty."
"Prettily!!!!!"
This morning my two year old had a tummy ache. He crawled on my lap and wrapped his arms around me. Then he pointed to his tummy and said, "It hurts so badly."
Maybe adverb use isn't becoming obsolete after all. ;-)
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Guilty Pleasures.
The kids were losing it. I have this love/hate relationship with the Science Center in our town. While I love the corn snakes, red-tailed turtles, tilapia tank, and bubble machine, there is a short threshold of excitement that the children can handle, and after spending so much time there, all at once they all need to use the bathroom, are hungry, want a drink, need to nurse, and are asking for something from the gift shop.
Time to go!
With two out of the three screaming, and me pushing the stroller carrying a diaper bag, along with the baby strapped into his Ergo, we dragged ourselves out the door. Having snagged a primo downtown parking spot, I started the process of getting each child situated in their seat and buckled, as well as dismantling the stroller.
A car pulled up next to mine with music blaring, just waiting to take my prized parking spot. Getting two carseats strapped, a booster buckled, and a stroller in the trunk on one's own is quite the task. I could hear the teenagers in the car grumbling about how long I was taking.
Once I backed out of the parking space the car behind me whipped in to take it. Glancing back as I moved the car out of reverse, I read the other car's rear window, plastered in Graduation 2011 car graffiti.
Bright red letters across the back read: "I am cooler then you."
Good thing, I thought to myself. I wonder if he's cooler than his English teacher, too?
I think I got the last laugh. Hee Hee.
Time to go!
With two out of the three screaming, and me pushing the stroller carrying a diaper bag, along with the baby strapped into his Ergo, we dragged ourselves out the door. Having snagged a primo downtown parking spot, I started the process of getting each child situated in their seat and buckled, as well as dismantling the stroller.
A car pulled up next to mine with music blaring, just waiting to take my prized parking spot. Getting two carseats strapped, a booster buckled, and a stroller in the trunk on one's own is quite the task. I could hear the teenagers in the car grumbling about how long I was taking.
Once I backed out of the parking space the car behind me whipped in to take it. Glancing back as I moved the car out of reverse, I read the other car's rear window, plastered in Graduation 2011 car graffiti.
Bright red letters across the back read: "I am cooler then you."
Good thing, I thought to myself. I wonder if he's cooler than his English teacher, too?
I think I got the last laugh. Hee Hee.
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