At the Corner of I-40 and "Please Wear a Condom"

   Right now in my daughter's 3rd period class there are 18 kids. All are under the age of 18. Three  of these kids have babies or are pregnant. This does not include any girl who had a miscarriage  or an abortion. Can you fathom the statistics I am speaking of? As a breeder, let me say this.
   Dear heterosexuals: How about we work out our own problems before we start pointing fingers. We have failed as parents, Christian or not. We have failed at raising children that respect their bodies. We have failed at protecting our children against, not just pregnancy, but STDs of all sorts and sexual abuse. We have raised men and women who have all sorts of sexual dysfunction, not because of biology, but because of the mental games we have played with their heads about when sex is wrong and when it's really really wrong.  I think that it is odd that we teach our children about brushing their teeth and gum disease, but bodily functions are taboo. Sex is about your soul. It is not just about pleasuring the body, it is a relationship with your soul. Sex and love should go hand in hand, but what if it doesn't?
   What if our daughters are at the mall and get pulled into a car? What if they are raped? What will we teach our daughters about their bodies? What will we teach our daughters about STDs? Will we make them feel dirty? Will we  find a way to tell them that their jeans were too tight or their  hair smelled too good? Will we  belittle them  for something they  have  no control over? Will we tell them not to  marry because they are  dirty? What if the government stepped in and called them dirty and told them  they  could never marry or have children? What if the government called them a minority? What if the government stripped them of their personality and pain and called them a statistic?
    What happens when we become the statistic? What happens when white middle class  Christian Americans are the minority..oh, wait. Welcome. Are you new here? Because if you do not stand up for the oppressed, no one will stand up for you. ( better write that down and put it in your pocket for later or else my high pitched cackling may confuse you)
     What we don't need is more rules and more governmental control over the policing of our bodies and how often we have sex. What we are in dire need of is some education that comes with a little empathy and a lot of heart. What we are in dire need of is a little reasoning that comes from the study of the human brain, i.e. genetics. What we are in need of is to explain to our children why we react lustfully to some people and not others and why true love isn't really based on lust, but respect.
   When the government backs a plan to promote drug free and disease free heterosexual marriage and allows an amendment to the constitution that states that no party shall be allowed to enter into the marriage contract without proving that they can live, without  being sustained  by governmental monies, for no less than 2 years without bringing an offspring into the world, then I shall, as a heterosexual breeder,  listen to the governments charge to the gays that they are not "good" enough to marry.  When the government backs a plan that states that no male or female having committed 3 felonies or no male or female having been convicted of child abuse, sexual or otherwise, may marry or be allowed to reproduce, then I may consider the NC governments stand on gay marriage. Until the NC legislature can provide a safe haven for women by stating that no one ever convicted of  domestic violence may marry then I really don't need to hear anything from said legislature. Crimes against nature are not solely limited to anal sex, in my opinion. Crimes against nature involve any type of sexual deviance that makes one partner feel as if they are being manipulated, enslaved or victimized.  If the government cannot control the population of breeders that it openly endorses, then I fear no sort of legislation will force the gays into submission. (insert smiley face).
  
    I don't need or want the government in my bedroom. (I actually don't want them on my property or in my car. I don't- especially- want them monitoring what music I listen to.)  And if I don't want them in mine, then I probably should learn to help you keep the government out of yours too. It's not just about loving your neighbor anymore. We are on the edge of a precipice where WE are the neighbors that nobody wants.
    
You have no idea what your child will grow up to be. What if your child grows up to be the minority? Show your children right now that they are worth more to you than a statistic. Fight for what they COULD be, not what you hope and pray and believe they will be. ~Mama Shey

Love Me, Love My Eating Disorder

   During the last week of Walt's life, I was visited by a very special person. Someone I love but never get to see.  I spent a lot of time sitting in the car with her. If you know me then you have probably sat in a car with me and talked. A car is better than any therapist office. So me and my lovely friend talked.....about food. Death makes you deal with things. Sometimes it makes you talk about weird things. Sometimes it makes you face things. During this week  food was not on my mind so maybe that is why it was so easy to talk with her. Anyway, I spoke with her again last night. After almost an hour of  "talk", we finally got into the food conversation again. I am so glad that I  have her. I am so glad that she understands. It may be a familial disorder that we deal with, but  that fact that I can tell her my deepest food secrets is a big deal. I think maybe it's time that I come clean.
    I am not a foodie. I would rather watch Man V. Food than Paula Deen. I don't want to watch you cook, I want to watch you eat. And don't try to sell me on expensive or fancy. I want quantity...or at least I did.
Growing up I was an only child and there was not a worry about going hungry, but I was very attached to food. It was my best friend in so many ways. As I got older and moved into my own places I began to hide food. I began to deny knowing the existence of said cheesecake that we just bought. I also would drive home from work plotting my every minute: Off work at 2.00 means Bojangles at 2.20, means home at 2.35, means eating alone until I have to pick up kids at 2.50. Oh, and Bojangles consisted of 2 adult meals. I despised getting caught, and I despised having to share.    At some point I realized that if you arrived at the Buffet at 10.00 a.m. then you could have a late breakfast, watch the workers change over to lunch, then get the really good food.
    I am not at all obsessed with food today. I changed at some point. Perhaps I became happy with my curvy body, perhaps I became happy sustaining myself. Perhaps I just found a comfort zone in something else. Maybe it was just being able to talk to someone else about how guilty I feel all the time about something as simple as food.  I don't know. What I do know is that food still makes me somewhat happy. Laughing at it and about it makes me incredibly happy.
   I am glad to have come from a family of big eaters and big talkers. And no, there isn't a plate in front of me right now,  because I  came from a family who would never make a plate of hot food wait just so we could finish a sentence.

~ Love who  you are and what made you, you. Love even the dysfunction and the disorder, because without those we would have no beauty, no individuality, and no secrets   to share in locked cars. ~Mama Shey.

I can probably fix your computer too.

So, Jonas is sick. Sick, like, I have a headache and need to throw up sick. I am overwhelmed. But not in a bad way. I am the only thing close to an adult in the house tonight and although that has its privileges (Paul Bettany movie marathon til 3.00a.m.) I have no one to blame when the house gets too hot, or the dogs bark, or the kids get sick. I like scapegoats. I do not have one right now. If anyone is available, please leave me your number.
     I also would like some tea, but I refuse to touch ice.  Ice freaks me out.

    So the boys left for Atlanta on Thursday morning and so far I have been managing.  everybody wants to know what is in Atlanta that some of us go to each year. It is Dragoncon. Sci-Fi crazy, let's dress up like stormtroopers and get everything we owned signed by  Tom Felton:  Dragoncon.
   The kids went to school on Thursday and I remembered to pick them up: Point for Mama Shey. I fed them...see I am on a roll! On Thursday night we were honored to be invited to the Newton Playhouse to see The Wizard of Oz. If you live in or around Newton and you don't go see this....why? 
    I made it through Friday, although I realized I really wasn't doing too much. I did visit with my aunt and uncle and then I went and bothered my Yoda for a few hours. We tried to play board games, but we talk waaaay too much to ever finish anything. We could never work together. She is super smart and I like to hear her talk. She is also very patient and shops at the Mexican bakery. I might love her.
     On Saturday...I guess that's today, I took the kids to the bowling alley. I do not know why my children bowl. I  find the bowling alley only slightly less germ infested than the roller skating rink. Nerds bowl. Are we really that family?  I signed everyone up for bowling except our fearless nerd leader who is a band geek and has his calender filled for the next two months. The baby is even bowling. (Do cheerleaders bowl?)
   So, Labert answered the phone today with a resounding:" Wait, can I call you back? I'm talking to Wil Wheaton."  AS IF!  My only reply was, "No, I would like to hear the sound of his voice."  The next word I heard was "Hey!" .......Maybe I can make this nerd fest of a marriage work after all.   

dear 40: shut.up

  40 is harsh. When you're 40 sometimes your back hurts. Sometimes your back hurts because you fall down stairs. You fell down those stairs wearing shoes made for 17 year olds. Sometimes you are a parent of a 17 year old. 40 is harsh because it's hard to lose that "baby weight" that you gained from that 17 year old. And then somebody is  like, "Oh are you pregnant?" No, angry bitter white girl, I am not...but I can tell you're pushing 40 because you have angry and bitter written on your forehead. Oh, and your shoes are out of your league. 40 is harsh because we as women understand our bodies now...finally...only to be told that we will lose them sometime in the next 10 years to something called men-a-pause.  This will be a turning point in our lives. This is  when we finally know we don't want to get remarried. 40 is harsh because we're not 20 and we're not dead. How awkward.  40 is harsh because we now realize that size "medium" is a nice way of saying "Please try again". 40 is harsh because our hair begins to turn an odd color of blond, and people, like those 17 years olds, get really rude about it. I am stunning in my new hair color. So stunning that I bought a new pair of silver heels to match it.
    So my advice to myself in the few short years I have left before I turn that magical number is: From here on add 7 years to your age...they will be in awe. (and quit buying mediums).

I read a book once

  There is a whole conversation here that I have been longing to have. There's so much on my mind. Isn't it strange that the  middle/lower classes are now the ones on the verge of revolt? We usually are quite content to have some minority that is being bullied and scapegoated, and we "get by". We are blessed...we always have been. Didn't matter if it was England or Australia or America, to be (especially white and ) working was a true "blessing" (hate that word). But this revolution isn't even about money or power...it's about knowledge. The middle/lower class is now More educated than anyone in power. And we aren't just fighting for "us". This isn't about color or station anymore. This fight is being picked up by pastors, lawyers, teachers, stay at home moms, artists, athletes. We fight for all who need books, education, identity. It is such an odd place to be, this cliff edge that we stand on...and the only solution is to keep feeding our youth the truth of the struggle. Not the truth of money or politics, but the human struggle. This is such an odd time in history I wonder what it will be called. We've had a great awakening, a renaissance, a dark age...but this is bleak. What we are surrounded with is so bleak. We are on the edge of the greatest knowledge and fighting such an ignorant opponent. And we never know who the enemy is. He could be any color, any religion.....Some days I just get so angry at the ignorance. And there is so much more my brain wants to know. What is it in the Matrix..the blue pill? Have I taken too many?
   I long for someone to wrestle this with me and help me understand...what has happened and where did we go wrong. I think it's all those years of feeling safe that did us in. Without education we are nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. What separates us from those that don't read, don't research...? What is the defining innate thing that makes us WANT to know? And why can we not teach others that deep nagging want is what salvages our soul at the end of the day?  Knowledge has to be wanted, to be craved. People who quote "facts" but never research the truth should never ever be trusted...so why do they run the country? Why do they run the world?  Where are the Plaits, the Tysons, the Sagans? Why do we not look to the sages to get the answers?
It doesn't matter how many books you have in your home. Unless you've opened one you are no smarter than anyone else ~Mama Shey.

week 7. trust me.

   This week my 2 nephews came to visit. They arrived on Sunday. My actual children had arrived home the day before so I got to spend a night with everybody in the house after a long week of silence. Beeker had asked months ago if I could keep the boys while did training and had a temporary duty assignment...little did I now that she was actually participating in something that eerily resembled the Army Olympics. I ask you, is there anything she can't do?
   The boys woke up on Monday to a typical summer day with Aunt Sherry. I swear, no matter how often I hear that phrase I am completely taken aback. I grew up an only child and never calculated being anybodies Aunt into my life equation. I know I laughed out loud numerous times when they called my name. It is such a pleasure and gift to be an Aunt.
     The boys got to watch all the good Aunt Sherry educational videos. They were good sports. The question "Why does Aunt Sherry want to marry Neil Degrasse Tyson" was never completely answered to their satisfaction however. We watched Nova Science How Smart are Animals and Nova's Pluto Files. Fabulous is all I can say. Creamy good chewy fabulous. They also watched a show I could never get behind: Mythbusters, but it was about ninjas, so, it had to be cool.
    On Monday we all went to see the Smurf movie. Even Tika Rae. We were sitting in the theatre and she says, "It is very dark in here." I was shocked at my ignorance:baby had never been to a movie before. I had not briefed her on what was to come. I explained that that big screen was a TV screen and that the movie would be up there (she thought we were just there to eat popcorn..?) Her reply was "Whoa!"  For the next hour I was poked in the side by the softest, tiniest elbow as she yelled,"This is the best movie ever!" And it was.
   Later that night we went to the Greenway, soon to be called My Favorite Spot, and had a picnic and took a walk. On Tuesday I had to attend a funeral. I hereby declare a moratorium on death. Period. I am really tired of burying friends, and please don't tell me it comes with age. We aren't even 40.
   We met Miss Jennifer and her charges at the bowling alley and we all got to bowl a game. I was horrible, and Tika slept through it all. Soon after the question "Does Aunt Sherry walk everywhere?" replaced the Degrasse Tyson question. And the answer was yes. 
   We got to take part in National Night Out that Conover hosts each year. Miss Kelly came and picked up half of us and we spent a lovely evening wandering around looking at vendors and trying to figure out how much free stuff we can shove in a bag.
   Michael was at Band Camp all week, so we really only got to see him at dinner time each evening. He is learning how to march and be part of the High School Band.
Friday we experienced flash floods around NC and we had some terrible thunder. We cancelled our plans for Friday and decided to just have a party. We ate ice cream and popcorn and watched the brand new-oh my gosh-such a big deal Phineas and Ferb movie!. It was so nice.
   I spent Saturday doing laundry and packing the boys. We met for a family reunion at Olive Garden in Gastonia and dropped off the boys with Beeker. I am always sad to see her leave. The sadness is dispersed though with the thought that she trusts me enough to let me have her children. I am amazed at how much a part of this family I am. I am so lucky.
 

week 6 .......well, hmmm

   So this week left me alone with only 3 children. It was odd. A little empty. I have full faith that the oldest two were indeed driving Mawmaw and their cousins crazy. I tried to do things this week with the three that was somewhat normal, but things they don't do often. We went to the covered bridge, the Catawba County Historical Museum, and bowling. We went to Udderly Delicious. We got pizza one night. The best part of the week was watching the three learn to play together. They usually do not pair up in this order, usually there is an older one to break up the mix, leaving me with one. This week they have been inseparable. I have been pretty impressed.
    Today, the two oldest came home. They looked incredible. They have spent a week in the sun, in the ocean breeze, in the shadow of beauty and it shows. Neither was tired. They had so many stories to share. So many jokes. They have been like twins since Michael was allowed to leave the hospital. They have each been leaders, care-takers, friends. They are really not whole without each other. It is something i don't quite understand and in that there is beauty.
   
I was given some really bad news today to finish out my week. I was told that a friend had passed. When I was growing up. let's say..8 , a little younger a little older...Walt led a group here in the county called the Teenage Young Republicans.  These were high school kids who worked for politicians as helpers, aides, recruits..kids that wanted to be involved in government. They worked hard. There were lots of meetings and lots of campaigning. My friend was a member. He was at our house often, and I spent many car rides with him as we traveled to conventions and meetings. We used to come home, teenagers in tow, and I would be so eager to watch the Muppet's.  We would have pizza or something and the older kids acted like they were doing me a favor by watching the Muppet's, but really, they were singing along. They treated me so kindly, knowing how  I looked up to them.
  My friend grew up to have a beautiful daughter of his own, perform in a church band, and have real relationships with real people. He was funny, clever, and had obtained some real common sense over the years. He was more than level-headed. He was thoughtful and unique, and he adored his daughter...adored her.
   Tonight I have so much to be thankful for. Tonight I  should remember those that I love. Remember that I  get such a short chance to be real and honest. At the end of the day I need to treat people as if they are taking their last breath and say what I  need to say. How precious to be there as someone lays dying and know that there is nothing left to say between you two. I feel confident that he left no doubt in his daughter's mind that she was his love, his joy. I have no doubt. Tonight I am thankful that I have good people in my life that I really will miss. That I really do miss. So when I tell you I love you, please know I love you and I never want you to doubt that I thought you were so worthy, so awesome, and so very beautiful.
    The quote "Well, hmm" was something Walt used to say. I would be surprised if he hadn't said it to the doctor that diagnosed his cancer. It was an expression used for overwhelming confusion or sadness. It was what he would say after he had thought about things and still had no answer. I have no answers. I just know that Walt would have have said.."We shouldn't be standing here crying today over our loss. We should be rejoicing. G-d is flinging that gate open and welcoming him home with a choir. And you people are crying over that?" Walt ...I hope you and Jim get to talk now, after all these years.
Peace my friends. ~s.