The Political Race: Where's the Pit?

With the presidential race to deceive-faster-than-your-opponent coming up, there has been heightened pressure for me to figure out what I think about the issues. America is always zooming forward in the great race or democracy, but I'm just looking for a pit stop before I blow out all my tires. With two children under 3 and no job outside the home, the issues for me are potty training and boogers. Somehow, none of the candidates seemed to want to discuss. Clearly, they are hiding something from us. Scandal.

In my attempt to be well-educated about what matters to me, I began to distinguish (between diaper changes and requests for more markers from the cabinet) the issues that make a difference to me. Abortion/birth control, of course, but I've discussed that until I'm blue in the face. Foreign policy is an issue, but since I've spent the last 10 years in a relationship with someone who's been in and out of Iraq 3 times, it's a sore and often-avoided issue for me. And for now, it remains that way. A little too much scar tissue to go diving in with a scalpel, if you will. What else? There's so many things that I should have an opinion on, but don't. Here are my current musings on a few things.

Healthcare: Everybody is the equal! That's good, right?

Healthcare seems to matter a lot to me, but I am still quite conflicted about this one - as a military spouse I've always received as much care as I need, but because of the socialized nature of Military medicine, it has rarely been of any quality to speak of. Military Medicine: where everyone sees the same docs at the same facility and has the same, equal access to drugs. I believe that I know, just a little, what socialized medicine in America may look like, and it ain't pretty.

Take last summer, when I was given a prescription from my OBGYN during the latter stages of pregnancy. The wait for the pharmacy in the hospital? 2.5 hours (every day). The wait at the on-post pharmacy? 1.5, mostly outside (I was appalled when I saw elderly veterans standing outside the pharmacy in line in 110 degrees Texas Summer). So, I begged my doctor to write a script that I could take to CVS. She looked at me like I was insane. Why would I want to pay for free medicine? But 7 months pregnant with a 2 year old makes a drive up pharmacy look pretty good, and after all, my co-pay was a whopping $3.

How does this inform what I think of the proposed health care reform? I think (though I'm not yet sure) that it means I support the idea that free trade is the only way to regulate a very screwed up system. The pharmaceutical companies have such amazing monopolies on life-giving medications and yet are pushing unnecessary drugs down the throat of the public (longer eyelashes? seriously?), and the only explanation I've come across that makes any sense is that free trade has not been allowed to do it's cut-throat only-the-strong-survive kung-fu action because of government involvement (regulation, subsidies, incentives, research funding). Look - when I needed to go to the pharmacy, I made it happen at the place that met my needs. And I was willing to spend more of my hard earned money to do it. Maybe this is a microcosm. And this doesn't even cover what it's like to see the same doctors. Or what happens if you have an issue that's difficult to solve. Or the gaggle cuss that is "specialty" medicine. For the record, this isn't any one person's fault - some of the docs I've seen are miracle workers. I just think that this is the natural conclusion of the "everybody is equal and deserves the best" mentality. Didn't you guys watch "The Incredibles?" The moral of that story: When everyone is super, no one is super at all. And here comes the evil genius's destructive super-robot. Oh crap.

I also see an appalling waste caused by this type of universally-provided medicine. Guess what folks? That $3 prescription I paid for is actually worth $50. And someone is paying it. Among military dependants, there's a total flippancy about spending money on medicine. Feeling a little sad? Some providers will give you a month's worth of zoloft ($80-$90) without a trip to see even a counselor. Not sure what birth control you want to use? Give Mirena a try - you can always take it out and toss it if it doesn't work for you. And waste the $350 the little device costs. It makes me so mad when people think, "If I'm not paying it, what does it matter?" It's that attitude that must change to get us out of this hole we dug.

Immigration Policy: "It's proud, I am"

As a fourth generation immigrant, I care about immigration. The Irish (my main heritage) were hated as dirty immigrants who stole jobs and put "good Americans" out on their buts for a long time. "Native Americans" of the 1800s hated those Ellis Island pigs. Sound familiar? And guess what? Aside from the 1/16th of my blood that is American Indian, they were ALL immigrants at one time. Some of them would not have been legal under today's laws.

Now, we all know that I'm a fan of all things legal so I am certainly not promoting illegal immigration. And it's not impossible to become an American, either. I have known many many people who joined the military as a fool-proof way of becoming American. That some hard-earned long months, doing a minimum 2 year stint serving the country you want to belong to. I'd like to shake that hand, my friend.  So changing immigration laws isn't necessarily the answer. I would just like to see a change in attitude, honestly.

Gerald O'Hara. So one of my personal heroes
is fictional. So what?

A grateful tip of the hat to Lady Liberty and the thousands of tired masses she welcomed would be a nice start. Not being hateful for having to "press one for English" would be a holistic thought as well. After all, why do we speak English in the first place? 7th grade history, folks. In this part of the country, I should be speaking Spanish. If not French. If this country speaks Spanish as their first language in 10 years, I guess I'll be learning Spanish to keep up, not complaining in racial slurs. 63% of my fellow San Antonioians are hispanic, only 28% are white, and a shocking 6% are African American. But back home, the city of my birth has gone from 14 to 17% hispanic over the course of the last 9 years. And I am ashamed to admit that I've heard so many of the white majority in that area say "The hispanics are taking over." Shame on you for thinking that's a bad thing in the first place. But for being that out of touch with what is actually going on? Think for yourselves, people. You're still sitting pretty at 47% white back at home. Relax. Come visit the River City and be appreciative for a family-oriented, friendly, art-infused, religiously-sound culture that I am overjoyed to be submerged in. They can take over if they want to. My Irish ancestors did just that - mixed and fought and worked their tails off when "No Irish need apply."

"It's proud I am to be Irish," to quote the fictious yet friggin awesome Gerald O'Hara (Gone with the Wind) and so I welcome those huddled masses - no matter how they come. I think our attitude informs our legislation. And I'm afraid we've got it all wrong.

Standing against those I love?

In discussing all this, I've made a real discovery about myself. It's very difficult for me to take a stand that is different from my family and friends. It's a pretty simple formula really. (What I think) / (What you think) x (How much I care about you) = (Gagglecuss of emotion). I really just want everyone to get along. I know that you wouldn't guess that from this blog, but it's true. This little blog world is the vacuum in which I can have an opinion that is contrary to that of my best friend or my husband or my kid's godfather (Hi Jimmy!). But what I've learned is that I HATE IT. I spend more time trying to reconcile what you think to what I think than develop what I think at all. Because I love you. Yes you. I guess it's a good thing that my love overwhelms my opinion, but not if it makes me a fence-sitter. The trick is to find out what I think, and love you even if you don't agree with me.

Even these letters know that not everyone can be right.

Having political opinions is relatively new territory for me. I spent a lot of my life purposely not being opinionated. "You're probably right, I'm sorry," was my MO. There are many paths to the top of the mountain, a very popular idea, just turned out to be (for me) a load of bunk. In the end, I can't help but come to the conclusion that we simply cannot all be right. Mutually impossible. Yet it still shocks my system a bit when I find myself believing that someone is wrong.

And I have VERY high standards for having a solid stance on anything. My opinion must be well-researched from multiple reputable sources (on both sides of the issue, and hopefully from at least one non-biased source). It cannot be hearsay or pseudo-knowledge. It must challenge authority at all costs, but still acknowledge the value of the accumulative, longsuffering knowledge that authority often carries by it's very nature. It must be humane and empathetic, but convicted. And above all, it must always be ready to be proven wrong if presented with a more compelling argument. Geez. With a list like that, no wonder I'm a fence-sitter. I'm exhausted from just typing it.

So politics makes me feel like I'm running a marathon. In the end, though, I'm glad I'm like this. I wish more people were. It's the folly of my life - high standards for all, and the highest for myself. But I refuse to compromise. I'll just continue to labor under the yolk of my own ridiculousness. Hee-haw.

Selective Prejudice

It's amazing to me the level of discrimination you can get away with against certain groups. For example, if someone refers to a 17 year old black male as "boy," the historical context makes the statement incredibly cruel and prejudice (and rightly so). But on the other hand if one calls a 35 year old white male a "cracker," few people even understand that this statement refers to a whip-cracker, aka a foreman - the often white, often poor men hired by land owners in the old south to manage their slaves with force and dehumanization. Most people, if asked, know that "boy" is a term that historically kept a slave in his place, a subservient and inferior piece of property. No wonder it's a hurtful term. But very few people when asked would have any idea that "cracker" is essentially calling the white man a heartless monster. Why? I would argue that because of the unending injustice that has been done to african-americans through the practice of slavery, we have all made ourselves sensitive to their understandable needs for equality and respect. A white man, on the other hand, has never been a part of such a large group that was so clearly discriminated against. Because he belongs to the majority, his feelings need not be treated with the same delicacy. Is this selective prejudice really fair?

I present, for your analysis, that there is a large, long-standing institution that has also become the victim of selective prejudice. Just as a white man is assumed to be immune from wrongful opinion, the Catholic Church currently exists in a time of extreme and unfounded prejudice against her. There are many reasons, the greatest of which happens from within. Her own children rarely follow her precepts (3 out of 4 Catholics don't go to Mass weekly, and only 1 in 10 follow the church's teaching on artificial birth control), making them terrible representatives of their faith. On the outside, there are misconceptions and historical prejudices galore. Evangelical protestants in America came to this country to seek freedom from tradition, automatically pitting them against a large hierarchy (literally: "holy order"). Protestants, in the days of Luther and Calvin were in accord with Catholics on the issues that they find themselves at odds over today (infant baptism, elevation of the status of Mary Mother of God, transsubstantiation). Today, however, protestant churches teach that they could not be more different than Catholics on these same issues, as though their founders made a move away from the Church for these very reasons.

The misunderstandings and outright lies that are perpetuated about the Church are innumerable, even today. I stumbled across this article entitled "What Presbyterians don't believe" when a childhood friend of mine, now the wife of a Presbyterian Minister, posted it on Facebook. I read through it, thinking it would tell me more about Presbyterian dogma, and found instead that it is simply a list of why Presbyterians are not Roman Catholic. It's also filled with deep misunderstandings of what Catholic's actually believe. For example, there is a discussion of why it's wrong to pray to Mary and the Saints, citing that prayer is an act of worship, and therefore should be directed only to God. This is a limited and (in my opinion) superstitious view of prayer. Prayer is not worship. It is communication. As the article itself explains, praying to a Saint is no different than turning to your friend in the pew next to you and asking that he prays for you on a particular issue in your life. When you kneel at your bed at night, you are not worshiping your bed. When you ask your friend to keep your husband in their thoughts and prayers while he is ill, you are not elevating your friend to the status of God. This strikes me as a shallow, irrational and almost-medieval way of thinking of the gift of prayer. If a person's soul is eternal, logic tells us our ability to request their prayer and counsel also goes on. Let's not complicate, or worse - make the mistake of overly elevating, the power of this kind of prayer. Only God is God, and the Saints will never be worthy of worship.

Much like St. Paul, I must refer to myself as "chief among sinners." I get so upset about the false perceptions about Catholicism because they were once my own. A protestant for 10 years, I believed what I was told by ministers and bible study teachers about Catholics without bothering to investigate. And I, of all people, should have investigated. Two generations back in my family there were a host of Catholics, both from birth and through conversion. Only recently in my family tree did a lapse in practice result in a lapse in faith. In my husband's family, it's the same story, as with so many of our families: good Catholic grandparents were not prepared by pre-Vatican II catechism to strengthen their children against the dangers of an increasingly liberal and secular world, leaving a generation of confused and lapsed Catholics to raise our generation. I refer to this as Vatican II growing pains.

But when our first child was born, my husband set out to find a true faith, instead of the non-denominational Christianity we had practiced, believing that "not everyone can be right." His journey brought him right back to the doors of the Church. I was appalled; I was resistant; I want to destroy his rosary and rip those blasphemous extra books out of his new bible. But, praise God, out of love for him, I began to study and read and reflect. I discovered a disturbing truth. From the outside it appears that our parents wised up and properly distanced themselves from the false practices of an antiquated Church, but almost all of what is told to good Protestant Christians about Catholicism is at best an oversimplification, and at worst an elaborate lie that repels the listener from the original, universal church of Christ. In April of 2010, my family returned to the faith of our grandparents. I know what it's like to believe the worst of Catholics. The reality is, as Bishop Fulton J. Sheen said, "Not 100 in the United States hate the Roman Catholic Church, but millions hate what they mistakenly think the Roman Catholic Church is."

I write this not to convert but to defend. My allegiance to the Church was purchased at a great price. I lost friends and betrayed family, but I did it because the facts left me no other choice. To perpetuate the misconceptions of what Catholics believe is irresponsible. Just as you owe it to african-americans to understand their struggle and defend their right to equality, owe it to your Catholic brothers and sisters to understand what they believe before you criticize and discriminate against them. We are not idol worshipers. We are not re-sacrificing anything. We don't worship anyone but Christ the Savior. I could write novels on the things we don't do. But instead, I'd just ask you to find out what the truth is before you assume it.

Date Night In

What do mean, "do I wanna
watch some TV?"

We all know that I think highly of stay-at-home parenting for a gazillion reasons. But the other side of the coin is that some things in your life are bound to suffer, right? Here's my analysis: Three things happen when you are a stay-at-home parent. 1 - The family has considerably less expendable income (because there is only one salary) 2 - The homebound parent becomes desperate (to the point of annoyance) for adult contact, but too exhausted to do much about it, while the working parent feels like they are in too much demand at home, with all the kids and their spouse hanging off them every waking moment. 3 - The parents spend all their time together tending to little ones, and can spend hours in the same room without touching, or even looking at each other.

Solution time! Everyone needs more time for themselves - that much is obvious. And luckily, with communication, this can happen. A 45-minute trip to the supermarket by myself can do wonders for me, even if it's at 8:30, once the kids are in bed. My husband understands that I need those few minutes, and he makes it happen all the time. And he's always developing hobbies that keep him...him! Sports with other guys have (strangely) become a key factor in our happy marriage. As it turns out, making time for ourselves has been relatively easy. But what about that other person that you share a bed with. What's their name again?

In the last week, I caught myself thinking "I just miss my husband." How can this be if I see him every day? What exactly is quality time? How can we make the most of the 1.5 hours we get together (on a good day) before we pass out from exhaustion at 9:30? Here's what we came up with: Date Night In.

I'll change his diaper once I can feel my legs.

Money is tight, time is tight, and we can't do anything that goes further than our baby monitor can reach, but what are these obstacles in the face of love? Well, they're pretty brutal, actually. So I turned to my good friend Google for the answers and found a great list of suggestions that I've adapted and added to. I thought I would share some of the ideas. My husband and I plan to spend one night a week together, focused on each other, so that we make the most of our time. It makes it easier to devote time to ourselves, our kids and our tasks without guilt or regret (or in my case, a pity party). I hope you find these ideas helpful! I'll let you know how it goes for us.

1. Spend an evening thinking up things to do on your evenings in.
2. Do a cooking project together - bake your favorite cookies or try your hand at a specialty bread.
3. Read a book or scriptures together. Or, read a book apart, then come together to discuss it on your night in. Some recommendations: The Good News about Sex and Marriage, Rome Sweet Home, The Book of Us.
4. Plan the future. Make a list of goals for one, five, ten years from now. Seal them in envelopes and store them somewhere safe with a "to-open" date on the outside.
5. Plant a garden! If you don't have daylight on your side, do your gardening at the dining room table in small pots to take outside later, or just sketch out a garden to work on when the kids are playing outside.
6. Dance together! Don't know how? Learn! Use youtube to learn a new step, or just dance to an old favorite.
7. Exercise together. A calm evening session of yoga for the eastern-minded couple. I think you see where this might go.
8. Treat the kids to pizza or chicken nuggets then plan a special "midnight meal." Go crazy - eat on the porch (without the high chair) or in the living room in front of your favorite move. Something that would cause a huge mess when the kids were awake.
9. Make popcorn. There's some easy flavored recipes out there (here's a great Christmas Popcorn recipe). Romantic comedy and action flic double feature - let the man choose the girly movie and vice versa for a change.
10. Make something for the house or for each other. Think, friendship bracelet for grown-ups. Here's a couple man-friendly crafts I love: PVC Pipe Storage Shelf, Bleached T-Shirts, Manly Paracord Bracelet.
11. Take a stroll (or sprint, if the kids gave you trouble) down memory lane. Read old love letters, pour over journal entries, laugh at old photos. Maybe even organize them into a book together as you go.
12. Plan a second honeymoon—even if it’s only imaginary. Go crazy. Use the internet and pick out your hotel, the sites, the restaurants. 
13. Check out a library book about the constellations, then stargaze in the backyard.
14. On a hot summer night, wash the car together. Think Mariah Carey.
15. Sketch out your dream house, bonus room, porch, yard, whatever. Bounce ideas off each other. You could stay grounded or spend thousands in imaginary currency on things like DVD players in the ceiling and 7 foot fish tanks.
16. If you play instruments or sing, have a jam session. Learn a new song together.
17. Use the internet to trace your family history and make a detailed family tree for your kids.
18. It may not sound too fun, but many hands make light work: Combine efforts to finish one some monumental task you've been procrastinating: paint a room, organize the garage, sort through your closet for goodwill. I bet the next time you look at your sparkling clean pantry or new recycling area, you'll think of doing it together. And it leaves you free of some stress, to better enjoy each other.
19. Find your wedding vows and go through them line by line. Compliment each other on sticking to them, and maybe take a minute to pick one to really focus on. Finish up by cruising through your wedding guestbook and photo album. 
20. Teach each other something new from something you're good at. Self defense, a little bit of a foreign language, how to shoot a lay up, etc.
21. Make chalk drawings on the driveway. Draw caricatures of each other. Be embarrassed that the neighbors will see it in the morning, but rest assured you can blame it on the kids.
22. Watch the sun set. You might find yourself talking about something other than strained peas and school supplies.
23. Pick an unfamiliar country and make a night of it. Prepare their local food, rent a documentary or foreign film from the library and learn how to say “I Love You” in the native language.
24. Make a "loved" list. Write down AT LEAST 25 things your spouse has done for you in the last year that made you feel loved, then read and discuss with each other. It will inspire repeat performances.
25. Learn each other's love languages! Here's a quiz. You might be shocked at how much your spouse has been loving you lately - in their own way.