Happy Solstice, 2022!

Summer solstice image credit

It is the longest day of the year for us northern hemisphere folks and normally, I’d be a pretty happy camper—thinking of all the summer-y things we can do.  To be honest, the summer of 2022 has been a doozy, so here is my struggle list.

One good thing though—since my last emo post about raising a teenage daughter, that very same teenager has done a complete 180.  After returning from her summer vacay with her dad, she has been kind, thoughtful, helpful (did four, yes, i said FOUR loads of laundry) and interacting.  I am in a state of shock and awe, but also extreme thankfulness, too.  Holding my breath so I don’t somehow jinx this amazing and wonderful situation!  Pray for me!! :D (She is truly growing into a thoughtful, smart, funny human being who cares about people and I am grateful.)

Surviving Solstice struggle list:

1. Emotional paralysis after living with 2 years+ pandemic working and caretaking.
2. Physical weakness due to item number 1: i.e. less energy to do the exercising, etc. (I am recovering from surgery still yet...)
3. Recovering from surgery. 
4. Testing myself due to COVID exposures; wondering when will I get COVID, or when will family member get COVID again?
5. Mid-life crisis-ing:  waking up each morning thinking, what is the point of getting out of bed, when so many people are a-holes.  (See last post).
6. When the hubby gets his man-period, then I have three tweens/teens in the house and I want to pull my hair out.

 

Surviving Solstice coping list:

1. Be gentle with you-emotionally and physically, you can only do what you can do.
2. Tell someone you love them.
3. Cry.
4. Call someone you love and trust and take a moment to connect.
5. Make stupid, venting jokes about a-hole people.
6. Do something physically active (limited if cannot get out of bed, but then if you get out of bed, celebrate that small miracle for what it is!)
7. Take a bath.
8. Vege out to k-dramas or tiktok videos or Stranger Things 4.
9. Therapy. 
10. Breathe - meditative breathing, or try the free insight timer app.
11. Nature - get outside, even for a few minutes, and listen to the wind.

When I see this list, I see many privileges and abilities.  And at the same time, I recognize that living is just f%*(ing hard. 

So letʻs do our best to stay in the moment and hope that we can come together and help each other along. 

And talk to yourself like you talk to someone you love.  I love you.

Love,

Jane Thrive

Meaningful Connection in Times of Sorrow

photo credit here

Dear World,

I was sidelined by a few things in the last two weeks: particularly with the horror of the mass shooting in Uvalde, TX and the loss of 19 children and 2 teachers who died trying to protect them.  And the rise of gun violence, especially in schools, is heartbreaking.  Brave and amazing folks—including an 11 year old survivor and family members related to the kids who lost their lives in Uvalde testified for gun control in the U.S. House today, and while the House passed a wide-reaching gun control bill, it is likely to fail in the Senate.  I am absolutely rageful that there are folks that would allow political gun money to take precedence over our public safety, especially children. 

If you’re looking for a place to protest, you can see here, for a series of gun violence protests happening across the country on Saturday, June 11^th. 

These days I’ve been waking up overwhelmed with the weight of the world, sometimes not even wanting to roll out of bed, and maybe this is a normal human reaction to all the !@#$ that is happening in the world right now.  To feel powerless at times.  Sometimes I ask:  what the h3^^ are we even doing here? 

When we feel down and overwhelmed, these questions arise:  what can we do, what can one person do to make a difference in our turbulent lives?  What can we do that will matter?  Sometimes we can call ourselves to action, such as in an active protest as mentioned prior.  Other times, we can look to lift our voices and shout out into the world, or lift other voices up and join them in solidarity, to demand change.  Other times, maybe it is something small, a phone call to a loved one.  A moment of shared empathy or grief.

When I am still, I sometimes think about Dr. Brené Brown’s work that includes meaningful connection.  She has studied the human condition for decades and some of the highlights that resonate with me include her work on empathy, true empathy.  Empathy is not about ‘walking in one another’s shoes,’ because our bias prevents us from actually walking in and experiencing someone else’s experience.  Instead, true empathy is about making space for another person for them to share their experience, and then, most importantly, to have the capacity to believe that their story is, indeed, true.  This sounds easy, but actually, it is way harder than at first read, because our bias can get in the way.  It is hard to believe someone else’s story if in doing so means we also re-examine our own experiences and are held accountable in any way, if their story makes us uncomfortable, or reveals truths that we are not ready to accept.  This is why folks get so reactive on topics such as systemic racism and gender bias.  Rather than accepting diverse and difficult experiences, they shy away out of defense and protection of ego and the status quo.  But I digress….(another post altogether, honestly).

What resonates for me in Dr. Brown’s work re: this particular idea about “what can we do when we feel powerless against so much awfulness in the world?’:  is back to forming meaningful connections and that we can be careful stewards of each others’ stories.  About how this turns the conversation away from control and agendas, but to a context of considerate learning and inspiration.  How an act of empathy and friendship, true friendship, is an act of love.  That by supporting and uplifting voices around us, even the smallest scale, is a miracle in it of itself.  And these small miracles do have the capacity to heal our broken world.

At least, that is my hope. <3

Love,

Jane Thrive

Current Vibe: BLM, Women's Rights (RBG forever), He Got COVID and we survived

Dear World,

I dropped off the face of the planet for the last two years, completely overwhelmed.

I hope to reconnect through the blogosphere once again.  The world has gone extremely nuts since the pandemic so let’s give a quick update, and then I hope to come back to regularly scheduled programming.  <3

• Hubby and I marched in the BLM 2020 summer protest held locally (with masks on) and still stand in solidarity against systemic racism.  Clearly, more work needs to be done, considering the f!@#$ racist mass shooting in Buffalo.

• I have marched in two protests relating to reproductive health rights for women, once because of the Texan (aka the Republic of Gilead) draconian law that they managed to pass, limiting abortions at six weeks (when most folks don’t even know they are pregnant) and also giving private citizens the right to sue anyone who is seeking or provides a legal and safe abortion for up to $10,000.  (How about giving folks $10,000 worth of healthcare/prenatal/postnatal/early education support?)  The second, a couple of days ago, in response to the US Supreme Court leaked draft opinion that looks to overturn Roe v. Wade and turn the clock back on 50 years of women’s legally protected constitutional right to healthcare.  For more action on this, please see RiseUp4AbortoinRights.  These initial protests are just the beginning.  P.s. at our particular protest, there were folks who graduated high school in 1972, sharing very vivid memories of what they experienced before abortion was legal.  And young women half my age taking on this battle, sharing their expressions of leadership and action—they inspired my heart!  I’ve been protesting since the 1992 March on Washington, and 30+ years later, can’t believe I still have to protest for this $hizzle.

• Hubby contracted and recovered from COVID-19.  TWICE.  Miraculously, he was okay, and none of us caught it.  He is fine, we are fine.  (Wait, are we really fine?) While the US has surpassed the 1 million mark for COVID-19 deaths, I think maybe not.  And our hearts are with the families and loved ones of those lost.

• I have been self-medicating with funny animal, cooking, and dancing Tiktok videos and am weirdly inspired by young people just a little bit older than my daughters, speaking out and sounding the alarm against climate change, systemic racism, and the draft opinion rolling back women’s rights.

• I broke my foot (healed) in a freak accident and am recovering from shoulder surgery (healing).  While mobility is limited, I am able to resume work.

• Most importantly, the kids are all right, as best that can be expected, but more soon on the state of their access to their last living grandmother (due to their father’s fighting), which makes me sad.  Learning to let go of the things that I can’t control, and coming to terms with supporting my girls.  While I know what the ‘right’ thing is (support them in having regular visits with their grandma), I have to accept that my role is to remove the bind from them—they love grandma with all their hearts, but they also know they pay a price if they see her with me :(.  The saddest of all of this is she is suffering from memory loss, and soon it will be too late.  :(

• In spite of all this crazy nutso shizzle, it has not been all doom and gloom over here…life finds a way.  I hope to share some of the amazing supportive resources that have helped me get through some of the hardest times in my life these past two years.  Here is one:  Oprah Winfrey’s Super Soul Sundays podcast.  Specifically, her interviews with Dr. Brené Brown, about how being vulnerable is our greatest strength in finding courage to lift one another up in meaningful connection.  <3  (There are four interviews with Oprah, two focusing on “Atlas of the Heart,” and two on “Daring Greatly”)  And bonus resources:  Dr. Brown’s HBO Max 5 episode series focusing on her research on Atlas of the Heart and her amazing site that links to her own podcasts. <3

• Keep on keeping on!  Breath, survive. And thrive. <3

Love and hugs,

Jane Thrive

June 2021

Dear World,

I have been utterly overwhelmed some days and unbelievably thankful and grateful on others.  The emotional swings from debilitating anxiety and depression to scraping by to achieve in my professional life and provide for my family is a seesaw of craziness.  I cannot believe some days that I "made it" through the day, hour, week.  But here I am, summer 2021.  I crack up and want to cry at the same time.  

So far:

• No one has caught COVID-19
• Everyone is vaccinated except for littlest sister who is too young still yet.
• Hubby is back to work full time, after being out for nearly a year.
• I am teleworking, but as the emergency orders start winding down, I am praying I make it through until little sister goes back to school full time (they say schools fully re-opening in the fall).
• Ex husband has been usual pain in the ass about everything; chalking it up to pandemic anxiety and separation from his long distance girlfriend?  He argued vehemently against big sister getting her vaccine, accusing me of falsifying health records to get the appointment, only to turn around two days later to sign her up at the all-school vaccine clinic (can't look back in front of the parents/student body...?)...but the end goal is that she got her vaccination protection and that's what matters.  <3

I am wishing love and health and safety to the world.  

Love,

Jane Thrive

p.s. While in "survive" mode at the moment, still grateful for the resources that I have to be able to support my family.

Happy New Year 2021

So thankful to be healthy and alive and well—kids are okay, hubby is working part time, pending return to full-time; I’m employed.  Kids father is still acting like a prick, but manageable for now.  

We’re just all tuckered down, waiting for our new administration to get sworn in tomorrow and to keep on working as hard as we can on healing and being the love I want to see in the world.  Come on COVID-19 vaccines and a return to safety and health for the world.

Wishing you all love and peace and health for 2021.  (It’s going to be better than 2020 dammit.)   

Love,

Jane Thrive

October - COVID, Halloween, and School

 

First, the best overview of a presidential debate ever in history comes from Weird Al Yankovic.  Please watch and weep with laughter. 

Secondly, 45 has COVID and FLOTUS does as well, and the internet is exploding with memes.  I think many are struggling with the satisfaction that the karma train has rolled into the station, and the terribleness of feeling that satisfaction for when someone has contracted a deadly disease.

Thirdly, I’ve started a 50 mile walk/run challenge for October—that means if I walk/run 50 miles by 10/31/2020, then I’ll get a medal and also a tank top, lol. This is for my health and anxiety, I honestly think that getting meaningful exercise is helping me stay sane, but the medal will be a nice bonus. Ha ha ha! 

Fourthly, because trick-or-treating will be out of the question this year, I’m going to take the girls on a horseback ride and we’re going to plant a tree—it’s a combo horseback riding, plant a tree private tour situation and what a great way to help the environment, support a local farm/business, and do something fun with the family.  (insert heart emoji)

Fifthly, the kids are all right with this back to school situation.  Little sis is virtual throughout the fall, big sis is back on campus, but with PPE out the wazoo, a health monitoring app every morning, and social distancing to the nth degree, so I’m not actually concerned.  Will see how it all pans out with the regular flu season upon us, but we're pretty happy.  Also big sis got an award for her high gpa from 2019-2020, and we are so proud of her!  In teenage fashion, her reaction was:  meh.

LOL. 

Stay safe and healthy!

 

Love,

Jane Thrive

When There Are Nine: RBG, my mom, and then me

 

Photo Credit

Current Vibe:  Devastated by the loss of RBG, this amazing woman who impacted our lives so much.  Listening to this wonderful podcast about her life from NYT’s _The Daily_.  

RBG’s life was a slow and steady path towards progress and institutional change, especially with regard to gender equality. She paved the way for a more just world, where my mom’s career in science and engineering could exist and for my own as a financially able, working mom of two.  When RBG was a young woman, teachers were fired if they were just beginning to show they were pregnant.  If someone tried to do that ridiculousness now, they would be sued. 

I played that NYT’s podcast in the car when picking up my daughter and her BFF from their first day of blended pandemic back to school.  When I explained that fact about teachers, they couldn’t believe their ears, literally their mouths were hung open in shock.  I was like, yes girls, can you imagine if your teacher was fired because she was pregnant?  It’s insane! And…it’s not that far away from us. 

I’m grieving for the loss of such a light in the world.  I’m raging at the white men in power who are doing everything they can to scrap and scrabble for their rights over other human beings, throwing their hypocritical remarks into the wind for millions of campaign dollars.  I’m so freaking depressed about minority rule in this country.  How dare they attempt to walk back decades of progress.

I’ll admit it—I’m scared, terrified, that now I have to be the one to stand up.  Or maybe I’m tired.  But I don’t get to be tired, I have to be strong.  I better stand up, because without Ruth on the highest court of the land writing for today and tomorrow, then we have to do the writing and the standing. 

This is going to sound really strange and weird, but I feel like I’m grieving my own mom all over again.  Maybe because I saw her as a beacon of strength, no matter how hurt I was as a young girl (I have a high E.Q., my mom has a high science I.Q., and maybe they just don’t match so well…), I knew she always did what she could, her very best, to provide for her family.  She was a single working mom, married to not the best of men until her third marriage. 

When a teacher yelled at me as a second grader, I can’t even remember for what—maybe something about dropping an eraser at the chalkboard?  My mom marched in and called her out on it.  I didn’t witness that, but one of the things my mom shared with me was this:  my mom never stood up for me if any teacher treated me unfairly, saying that’s just how it was.  So I vowed that when I grew up, I would always go in and do something if that happened to one of MY kids… 

My mom’s sense of fairness—was pretty black and white in her thinking, not many shades of gray for her, which with my fragile and passionate heart, had trouble navigating until I was an adult.  Mom broke her own barriers in education and workplace, an undergraduate biology major, then as a single mom of two, earning her master’s degree in industrial hygiene, and then embarking on a career in employee safety and later migrating to engineering—all male dominated fields, but she carved a successful career, traveling the country and sometimes bringing us with her when we were young, otherwise always home with dinner on the table by 6pm, and then later traveling the world for her job.  At the same time, I’m pretty sure she voted republican and deferred in her later life to my brother about legal decisions (glossing over any opinions I may have shared).  I was her emotional comfort, I guess, and my brother, being “the man” while at the same time emotionally distant with her, simply was more respected for all things real world.  Perhaps internalized patriarchy, but all the same, Mom broke barriers just by breathing and living. 

When she passed, I was broken for a month, and then I picked myself up and started running, out of the blue.  (I’ve now completed two half marathons, and would have done a third if not for the pandemic.) Because somewhere in the back of my foggy drink-addled head after her passing, I could almost hear her pragmatic voice: well, get on with it already.  You’ve got two kids to take care of and a job to do. 

So I guess I kept on keeping on.  Somehow RBG’s spirit and my mom’s spirit resonate similarly with me—the former bucking tradition and taking mini steps to change the world at large, the latter bucking tradition and taking mini steps that changed my very personal world.  And now they’re both gone, and it’s left my heart breaking at the edges, the middle, and inside. 

I vacillate between overwhelmed with depression and at the same time, rage against the world that would leave me (and women) behind and out of the rooms where decisions are being made.  I can’t stand the unfairness—something my mom instilled in me and one that RBG challenged and defeated time and again—unfairness on the basis of sex, gender, race.  

I comfort at the RBG tributes here,  here, and here. 

And I remember that we are not alone, even if we feel like it.  My daughters can’t imagine a world where a teacher would be fired for being pregnant.  Yet that was “the norm” when RBG was a young lady, and would also have been just passing by when my mom embarked on her college career.  I will not forget and I will keep fighting as long as there is air in my lungs to breathe.  Even when I feel beyond tired and want to cry.  We can do this, if only in our hearts, then our minds, then our words, then our actions: 

p.s. Rage donating to campaigns to support flipping seats Blue via Actblue.  Specifically donating to: 

Amy McGrath, KY (polls are all over the place, but would dream a dream if she could win)

Mark Kelly, AZ (he can sit right away if he’s elected, because it’s a special election)

Sara Gideon, ME

Jaime Harrison, SC

Pat Timmons-Goodson, NC (Obama judge appointee that the Senate blocked, now carries a lead for US Congressional Rep) 

Apparently, I’m not alone in doing this—record breaking donations poured in last Friday night.  Thank goodness.  

p.p.s. women's rights are human rights and human rights are women's rights

RBG - no no no please I can't say goodbye to you

The incredible RBG passed away today, and my heart dropped down to my toes.  She worked tirelessly to secure fundamental rights for women and reached into the hearts of so many, including men and children, including my DD1, to teach us about what can be done if we put our minds and strength behind our words and action.

2020:  I can't even with you anymore.

Lives are Sacred and Precious

Gilead

Status: Baffled.

I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be surprised when I'm baffled by Governor Ivey's remark that every life is sacred and precious with re: to her abortion ban. Because:

1) There are 15 million children living in poverty in the United States. http://www.nccp.org/topics/childpoverty.html

2) 1300/children die every year due to gun violence; additionally 5790 get treated from gunshot wounds, according to _Pediatrics_

https://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/140/1/e20163486 (some other folks argue more; this is from a 2016 study)

3) There are 276,000 uninsured children in the United States.

https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2018/11/29/671666280/number-of-u-s-kids-who-dont-have-health-insurance-is-on-the-rise

4) There are 437,465 children in the foster care system, with 117,794 "waiting to be adopted," according to the Children's Bureau, see their report: https://www.acf.hhs.gov/cb/faq/foster-care4

(And please note that disrupting families causes effects that are felt by all parties--adoption for me may have been a 'happier' ending, but I've learned it is not so for many and comes with trauma and a healing journey).

So, the thing is, these children are sacred and precious. But not sacred and precious enough for folks to care about to protect, help, support, and solve problems for, because they'd rather concentrate on banning women's constitutional right to healthcare and revoke women's agency re: family planning. What in the literal f.

Two Moments in the Life of a Little Girl Growing up in the World Right Now

(World Clouds)

I don’t know wtf is going on with media messaging in the world where my third grade daughter is worried that she’s fat.

I’ve tried responses that concentrate on what our bodies can do (can I run? Can I swim? Can i climb the monkey bars? Can i play tennis with my friends? And karate too? Yay! I’m healthy!) and how our doctor says she is perfectly healthy every year at her physical. That honestly our DOCTOR is the person who can tell us if there’s an issue about weight, and no one else. She’ll agree for a few days but then it’s like she doesn’t hear it at all, she comes home saying my belly is fat or my belly is big. That this girl or that girl at school says her belly is fat (as in talking about herself, not my daughter’s; it’s the self loathing talk that’s bumming me out—and i know these girls they are little growing toothpicks).

I’ve tried to normalize that bellies are just bellies and bending over makes our bellies look different, to no avail. I’ve monitored the way I speak about my body around her to make sure I’m not passing along negative body imaging to her. I say I exercise so I can be healthy and live a long life (not that I’m trying to lose weight or trying to be skinny, and that’s fine if those are personal goals out there in the world, just not trying to put those world’s expectations on her). Urggggg.

So in the moment, I resorted to: I can’t stop you from saying negative things about yourself DD2, even though I know the words aren’t true. I need you to say some different words for yourself though. So from now on, any time you say something negative, like my belly is fat, I want you to say something positive, too. Like, I can read chapter books. I can swim all afternoon. She half heartedly repeated these words. And was like

awwww, do I have to?

And I was like: if I catch you saying negative things about yourself without saying something positive, no playing games on the IPAD.

Her (eyes as big at saucers): For how long?

Me: FOREVER.

Her: OKAY MOMMY.

...

FFS

I recalled going through this a little bit with DD1, but not to the constant repeat loop that seems to be with DD2.  And, she still bounces around and plays with her friends, like today she swam for two hours straight in the pool, just venting about the negative body talk that she’s taken on. Is it parroting? Does she really think this? Probably a bit of both.  And IPAD threatening was not my best moment, but I fail all the time so just add it to the tally of shit I do wrong.  Tomorrow is another damn day.

------

Day 2: So after a somewhat good night's sleep, I felt a little better about this being a marathon type of conversation/issue and not a here's a few steps to solve the challenge type of situation.  So okay, life, I'll take this challenge, dang it.  One of the silver linings out of the conversations of late is this:  she actually talks to me about it.  she feels safe enough with me to tell me her worries and fears, so I need to be less judgmental about her worries and fears and more supportive of how to be a positive force in her life.  I'll keep up with positive talk and will lesson the IPAD threats, and understand that if we still struggle with messaging as a 20, 30, 40  year olds (my goal is that by 50 i just wont gaf, i'm pretty close to IDGAF, but i've been conditioned by the same media messaging), then of course this is going to seep into an 8 year old's realm, whether i like it or not.  p.s. she brought it up again this morning when i was braiding her hair.  she was hesitant to say the word 'fat,' i think in part because she didn't want me to harsh on feminist theory at 6am?  LOL.  so i said, honey, i realize you have your thoughts and feelings about this, and the world is going to say one thing, and we have to say other things back.  so what would you like to say back?  i can swim?  she said yes.  i can read all the books?  she said yes.  and i said, anything else?  and she said: i can run.  ❤

And…my heart melted.

Lastly, an extra:

Gillette embraced the Be the Best a Man can Be to mean more than brawny, uninformed masculinity, and I actually teared up.  Of course there’s backlash from the trolls and threats to boycott, which means it struck a nerve.  You can see it here.

I know, I know, I teared up at a SHAVING commercial.  But I teared up because this mainstream, commercial (usually money-grubbing and not giving a f!@$) world has embraced the idea of a BETTER way to be.  I imagined how different my experiences would have been if I had grown up in this one, and maybe that’s why I teared up.  A hope that the world can be better.

Because world, I **need** you to be a better place for my two little girls who are growing up fast.

A New Day

Image

Well it’s a new day and Jane Thrive is still alive.  Lol.  It’s kind of amazing how fast life can change, one minute you’re jogging across the crosswalk, the next, you’re flying through the air and knocked out cold.  Apparently the Ford Explorer was going 35-40 mph according to the firemen…they don’t know for sure.  The driver says he had the green light, but I know I had the light crossing the highway.  (I’m letting the insurance company deal with all this, because I have to concentrate on healing and being a mom and working and all of that!)  I’m just lucky to be alive.  So much has happened since the summer, so I’ll try and do a quick catch up!

My mom’s memorial was beautiful and compelling and just everything I was hoping for—about 80 people came from five different states to remember my mom.  The girls recited Psalm 23 together which pretty much made my heart burst, and prior to the ceremony, with the help of one of my mom’s BFFs, big sister helped decorate a posterboard with pictures of mom in all her walks of life.  It was just so sweet having everyone be there together and I was able to share my speech about mom’s life—people were very kind and hugged me afterwards and some of my mom’s later in life friends said they were so glad they got to know more about mom’s early days.  Which also made my heart burst.  My BFF also rendezvous-ed with us, and I got to spend time with her babies and the kids could hang together for the week end; my nephews had a sleepover with us at the hotel—it was just a week end of smooshy family love!  After the memorial we spent some much needed relaxation time with the hubby’s family, which was so important to me, as I don’t have much family left now that mom is gone. 

And then we came back home and I attempted to come back to work in mid-August.  On the morning of 9/11, driving to my orthopedist to deal with my wrist fracture, I had another run in at an intersection—car collision, and my airbags went off and I about cried myself silly with the PTSD of the first accident.  Oh my goodness, what in the world is going on?  The good news about this accident is that while I have whiplash, the other driver was unhurt, I was able to get a referral to a concussion specialist.  After returning to work in August, I’ve been experiencing daily headaches, and up until the car collision, I wasn’t able to get a referral to a neurologist.  No one wanted to take me because the origin of the medical issue was related to a car (welcome to health insurance nightmare 101, and I feel fortunate to have insurance in the first place, but the 6 specialists I reached out to wouldn’t take it, because no, it’s car-related!).  At any rate, thank goodness for the second ER visit, because the trauma team recommended a concussion specialist—who did a battery of vision/vestibular (fancy word for balance system) tests on me and my headaches are just part of a normal post-concussion condition.  Which is fixable and treatable, hurray!

So now I’m in PT for my wrist/shoulder (pedestrian hit), back/neck (car collision), and brain (post concussion from the pedestrian hit).  Suffice it to say—I’m a mess!  LOL.  But a positive mess—in that I’m so grateful and thankful that all of the symptoms I’m currently experiencing, while a huge PITA, are considered ‘normal’—I’m on the healing path—and at least there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.   For those who want to believe—believe it when I tell you I think my mom had everything to do with my being still on this earth.  A Ford freaking Explorer had barreled down the highway, and just 114 lbs me —and I walked away from it with a banged head and fractured wrist…?  I get kinda teary eyed thinking about it.

As for the co-parenting?  The pedestrian hit actually gave me a really amazing, embrace-the-world hit of adrenaline, and I was determined to turn over a new leaf and extend love to the whole world—even to the father of my children, lol.  I say lol and this is why—after greeting him when he was dropping the kids off after the accident and he refused to acknowledge or even meet my eyes, I realized oh right, he never did ask if I was okay or offer to help in any way...topped off with slightly nasty texts he accidentally sent to me later that afternoon, but were meant to his girlfriend (! I didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry!) I had a different sort of epiphany…in my time together with him, there was always someone…his mom, his brother, a coworker who once was his BFF, someone who always WRONGED him.  And as his partner back then who went along with him, I remember thinking, oh right, that’s so uncool and unfair of x or y or z.  The epiphany I had was:  oh yes, now I’M the x or y or z.  And likely will be unless there’s a miracle of changing his ways.  So why am I wasting my time thinking he will suddenly be cordial and kind and cooperative?  Yes, I will be civil, especially in front of the kids, so they can see their mom being kind to their dad.  Yes, I do have love in my heart for the father of my children because he is the father of my children.  But no, I will no longer expect kind or cooperative in return, and that’s just how it is.  I don’t know why it took getting hit by a car to get me to this place.

Also, Houston we have news!  There is a girlfriend—and from what the girls say, she is nice and they like her, and she’s really kind to them!  And while the place I have in my heart for women-kind worries about any woman who may become involved with him, I’m relieved to learn that she has a great career (good role modeling for the girls) and is kind to the girls.  Apparently it is a long-distance relationship, so she will only see the good side of him—we know he can hold it together well.  The absolute best case scenario is that he will get his !@#$ together and be a good person, heal and move forward from the anger issues, and maybe this relationship will help him see the light for that.  However judging from past behavior and even his behavior towards me…the odds are not leaning that way and it’s not my responsibility, nor hers, to ‘fix’ him…we shall see what happens.

The other news that I’ve learned is that he didn’t move out to his own place at his own behest.  Apparently, his mom asked him to leave.  From what I understand, she did this because it was too much stress with him and his brother and his mom in the same house and in a weird way, I feel both relieved (relieved for her, and as for me…validated...in that i'm not the only who had to make a change for my personal health) and also much sympathy and empathy for my ex mom-in-law.  From the violence of my ex’s dad, to my ex inheriting the anger issues, to my ex’s brother and the conflict of having him testify about my ex’s anger issues…it hasn’t been an easy life for her, and for her take a stand and make sure her house is one that can be more peaceful—it must have taken a great deal of strength to get to that conclusion and further, to see it through.

So lots of information bombs and healing and working through thoughts and emotion happening over at chez Survive, Live, Thrive.  I am so thankful my girls are doing well and growing up and big sister is embarking on her middle school years in a new school and thriving and doing well so far.  Little sister is now out from under her sister’s shadow at her elementary school, so I’m just wishing and loving and praying we are on good footing for a great school year.  I had some challenges with my mouthy tween being really rude and unkind with her words to me last week end, the result of which she is not allowed to have electronic time this week at mom’s house.  I thought she’d throw a hissy fit, but she is taking it in stride and talking with me with more civility.  I simply told her that girls who are mean to moms (while it’s okay to be angry and irritated and upset, it’s not okay to be mean and nasty), do not have privileges like electronics, and I know she could do better as I know she can behave.  So let’s see how this week pans out.

Also, big sister has been watching the Kavanaugh hearings.  Having been a huge fan of Justice Ginsberg and writing a report about all that she’s done last year for her class project, I thought this was a good opportunity to understand the craziness of our current judicial selection process—but also a good segue in talking about consent.  Over the years, I’ve been candid with both sisters about the changes our bodies go through when growing up—I figure having the words takes away some of the fear of our changing moods, hormones, periods, body parts, etc.  So lately I’ve been meandering our conversation more and more into the realm of how our bodies are our own, that no one is allowed to touch them unless we give our consent.  How the unfairness of the world when Justice Ginsberg was growing up, that once upon a time it was very rare and frankly discouraged for women to even attend or exceed in higher education, that the march of time leads directly to today where women are less likely to be believed than men, period.  And while that is unfair, unfortunately that’s the world we live in.  That unlike Judge Kavanaugh, Dr. Ford and her family had to go into hiding from the people in the world who do not believe her and are harassing her for sharing her truth to the point of death threats.  And that no matter what, if big sister is ever confused about anything that has to do with her body or someone touching her, to please always come to me.  (In her very tween way, she was like I KNOW MOM, and I loved that she was irritated with me to the point of not believing that something like that is a danger for her, that her world is not yet marred by this !@#$).  She actually told me that she would tell her friends or SOMEONE (specifically not me in that moment), and I said, okay honey, be sure to tell me, especially if that someone reacts in any way that is upsetting, because not everyone has the ability to react in a way that’s helpful.  And she grudgingly agreed.  (Dear world, if you are the person my daughter turns to, please be a good, just, trustworthy person).

In fact that leads me to my prayer of the day:

Dear World,

Please let us make this world a better, more just, civil, kinder world than the one I grew up in (as a child of the 80s).  Please let it be better for my daughters than the one where my mom had to struggle to make it into the workplace, where my grandmother had few opportunities for education and/or financial independence.  Please let us be better.  Please let us be the love we want to see the world.

Love,

Jane

p.s. so this pretty much sums up the summer and into the Fall at Chez Survive.Live.Thrive.  Healing, more healing, and healing some more.

Royal Wedding - Yippee!

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It may be “cooler” to act like I didn’t pay attention to the #RoyalWedding that happened over the week end, but I embrace being one of the uncool kids!  I wasn’t able to watch it, but I did do a whole lot of DVR-ing which I will get to review shortly and have been surfing the web, purposely looking for joyous faces and silly memes and stories of adorableness.  It’s nice to have a bubble of love and light lift up the world a little bit, and while by no means a royal expert am I, I loved that the wedding shook up some traditions by the inclusion of MLK, Jr, the gospel choir, Stand by Me, the loveliness and smooshiness of the bride and groom. 

I’ll also admit that I loved this meme a whole lot : I wish I could just add the pic, but please click here.

And in other news, I was actually celebrating my wedding anniversary this past week end—the hubby surprised me with a week end getaway at a posh resort, awwwwww.  As much as there is anxiety in raising a tween and dealing with a coparent who is not the most cooperative, there was a lot to celebrate.  The world may be looking at the newest princess and prince; I guess I can safely say that I have my own!  Hee hee yay! :)

Love and hugs to the world! 

Sharing your Light is Kind of Complicated

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Over the week end, a close family member posted a caricature stick diagram explaining the problem of illegal immigration, pitting a stick figure of “John Legal” who is white (okay, light peach, if you want to literally translate the color in the picture), and “Juan Illegal” who is brown.  It then broke down the issue about how much money each of them made, with John paying taxes on his higher wage, with  Juan getting paid under the table for a lower wage and not paying any taxes, both having children who went public schools, a quick discussion of healthcare, and ended, ultimately, with Juan’s children’s excelling and going to the head of the class because of “minority” scholarships.  The takeaway is that John paid for everything and suffered for it, while Juan hasn’t paid a cent and is doing just great.

The one comment underneath this post was hand-clapping.  Eep.

Even at a quick glance, I realized the claims regarding wages and taxes were incorrect.  I didn’t even get to the end of the comic strip, because I knew there was something here that needed to be addressed and wasn’t sure how to address it.

My other family member, E, who is a legal, non-white immigrant family member began texting me—did you see “X’s” post?  I’m so upset!  I’m seeing red!  I can’t believe she’d post that!  E has a much longer history with the family as I do (having married into it just a few years ago), and her feelings were beyond hurt.  She and I discussed everything that was in error with the post, and I found myself, while just as upset and infuriated, strangely calm as I hunted for facts to put together a public response.  E said she was going to talk to the family member and spouse directly as she was going to see them soon—couldn’t deal with the hurtful implications just yet until she’d calmed down—all of which I understood and supported because I love E with all my heart.  For my sake, I felt it was time for me to say something, in a measured, and even loving way, but also in a way that could shed some light onto the situation.  I was hoping by appealing to our mutual love as a family she might listen.  (p.s. my husband was like, um, not going to change anyone’s minds).  And even with that lovely support, I thought, I have to try.  I have to say my peace and put it out there.

So this is what I wrote:

I love you, XXX, you're my family, and I can see how this explanation puts the immigration challenges in a way that many can read easily.

I'd like to share my thoughts as your sister and immigrant, and hope you can see I say these things from a place of love. There are numerous reports that show undocumented immigrants do not take native born jobs, and in fact do pay taxes, contributing 11.74 billion to state and local taxes each year, including personal income tax.  Also, the companies that hire them (construction, agriculture) who give them lower under the table wages, pay taxes for doing business. These same people who are paying taxes are not eligible for government programs that they are helping to pay for.

Re: wages, the wages for undocumented workers are much less than this diagram, instead of $15/hr, it’s more like $5/hr or a set amount for a job no matter how many hours (ie Texas reported $90/14 hour job). There are no protections, so those that hire them will use their status as a way to force them to accept deplorable conditions, and they are more vulnerable to exploitation.

I wish the challenge of illegal immigration, like many challenges that we face as parents who love our children and want to secure a future for them, had an easy answer.  Like this one and many others, tax reform, education, healthcare, it's not easy. Life is messy unfortunately.

I.e., I can't figure out how to fit my friend's story in the stick figure diagram: She has a patient that needs hospice, this patient is undocumented.  They are not here illegally, they were visiting family when this happened.  Now, there is no way to get them home.  And this person could have reasonably priced home hospice, but since they aren't an American citizen, they can't.  According to her, they will, however, spend the next month or so in the hospital until she dies.

  

I also realize I am a brown, legal immigrant, and that I have grown up with lots of privilege, for which has implications and is a wholly different conversation. I hope to reach out with love and kindness and use my privilege as much as I can to help others and I thank you for listening.

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After I posted it, I sent X a text saying I had posted (because I didn’t want her to feel blindsided), that I had put a lot of thought into it and that I loved her.  And then…a few minutes later—she texted back, “I love you, too, I’m sorry if I upset you.  I understand your view!”

Wow!  Wow oh Wow!  That was not the response I had expected, in fact I had been bracing myself (along with E) for a backlash.  Later, when I went back to X’s page to say thank you for listening, I couldn’t find it—and E said I had changed the world a little bit because she’d removed the post.

Wow. 

I felt happy that X listened, that’s all I had hoped for.  I don’t know if it really changed her mind about anything, but I thought, hopefully, this is something I can remember about how I can be the light and use my voice.  That it’s okay to disagree.

As for E, she’s still very upset and hurt by how easily X could post something that is erroneous at best, ignorant and racist at worst, and I agree with her.  It makes me sad to know how many people think and feel this way.

There’s an interesting, food for thought article posted at _The Guardian_ that discusses structural racism.   

I see it that racism is a system, and that while we didn’t create this system, we inherited it, and privilege runs up and down the structure.  Whether you’re white or of color, there are privileges that you may have based on your experiences and upbringing and advantages and disadvantages that are also inherited and it's difficult to understand one or the other because of them.  But we can try.  So let’s be the light, let’s shine, let’s use our privilege to uplift and help others where we can, when we can.

p.s. upon later researching, I found that the stick figure diagram had been discussed and debunked, so apparently this has been around for a while.