Wear Your Purple!

I am wearing my purple today--I actually was shocked when I got to the closet this morning and realized how much purple I own. I like the color, but I didn't realize that I liked it *that* much.

I am wearing purple, not because I am a member of the LGBTQ movement, but because I have three kids. And as a Mom, I love my kids. Like crazy. And I would love them, no matter who they love or choose to spend their lives with. I want all of my children to grow up happy with who they are and with their community. I want for all of them to have the opportunity to marry who they can't imagine living without, to experience the excitement of walking down any street, holding hands with that special person with no worries about who might see. And more than anything, I want them be able to enjoy life, unafraid of what others with narrow and insensitive minds might say or do.

So wear your purple, but also talk to your kids. Someone else's kids. Any kids. Let them know that you love and respect them. Because we all deserve it.

Teen Mom

This is not something that I share with a lot of people, but well, here I am on the damn internet typing it all out. I mean, it is pretty obvious if you know how to do math--I am 27 and my daughter is 11, so that means....

I was a teen mom.

Yup, I was once 16 and Pregnant. I was one of those girls that you have probably seen and shook your head at, one of those girls buying a prom dress with a baby in tow. One of those girls at Wal-Mart looking forlorn while her mom tucks the diapers in the cart, the formula, the little onesies, all the stuff that she can't afford on her own with her hostess job. You've probably seen her 100 times, riding the Bart train with a cell phone, ignoring the tiny being in the stroller beside her while she catches up on the latest dramas, fluffs her hair. You've seen her holding the baby and wondered what her life is like, will be like, if the baby knows what a shit situation this all is, if its wise little face is cognizant of the odds stacked against it. I was her, and that baby was mine. Is mine.

I say this because I am seeing a bunch of magazine articles about teen moms lately. If they will find love, if they are pregnant again, if they are broke. And yes, I know it comes from that MTV show. I will be honest--I watched selected episodes of 16 and Pregnant, but hopped ship when they started the Teen Mom thing because I didn't like that it made celebrities out of something as serious as teenage pregnancy. Really, these kids need to be worried about getting educations and developing relationships with their children--not looking pretty for MTV. Further, it bothers me that people think all teenage parents are like that--hitting their significant others, crying about missed opportunities, constantly embroiled in some sort of made for TV drama.

It is not like that. Teenage moms are moms. They are just like you--they feel the same things, they are overwhelmed, they are joyous, they love their children. Yes, things may be harder for them and they may not have the same life that you have or want. But the thing that bothered me when I was a teenage mom was feeling so different from other moms when I knew deep down that I was experiencing much the same things. I was so lucky in that I had a wonderful mother and a boyfriend (now husband) to support me. Unfortunately, a lot of girls do not have that. And it bothers me that we as mothers and women look at these women and feel revulsion and pity and sadness. We feel like we know them because we have seen them on TV or because we think we know what they are like. But we do not. And that is sad. Just as you shouldn't judge someone for their shoes or their skin color or their religion, you shouldn't judge them for having a child early.

I recently became aware of a program in my community that provides mentoring services to teenage moms. I am getting involved with it (obviously!), but I would encourage you to look for similar programs in your area. I'm not saying devote your whole life to curing this or any other societal ill you hear someone bitching about on the internet--just see if there is a place to donate used clothing or see if they need anything. Or next time you see a girl in Target, trying to make sense of the diapers, smile at her. Smile at her baby. Ask her if she needs anything. She might tell you no, and that will be fine. But she might have a legitimate question. And she might just want someone to talk to who won't judge her. Who knows? Just be that person for a few minutes and see what happens. You could be very surprised.

Why oh Freakin' Why?

I have no idea why, but for some ungodly reason, I am completely and totally drawn to the Kardashian family. Yes, I'm 74% sure that they are all repulsive and horrible human beings, especially Rob who I'm 100% sure that I want to punch in the throat. However, more often than not, I find myself watching them on E! and being totally immersed in what's going on. If they are showing a marathon, forget about it. I'm going to watch it, or rather, pick that day to "clean my room" and commence spending the rest of the day halfheartedly sorting magazines while catching up on the craziness. It doesn't matter if it is the whole family or just Kourtney and Khloe (even though they are my favorites), I will watch it.

The really disturbing thing is that it is not even that I just watch so much TV that this is just a percentage of all the other crap that I watch. I don't. I basically watch this and Criminal Minds and the odd Law and Order rerun and my husband and I tivo Modern Family and watch it together. Up until this point, I've been much too embarassed to tivo this crap, but just now I decided to go ahead and add Sunday night's offering to the queue because I'm so concerned about Scott and Kourtney's relationship. Oh yes, I did. What will become of Baby Mason? What about Scott's hand? What if he loses the ability to close his fist? Who will shove money down the throats of unsuspecting waiters then? I gave up reading gossip columns a while ago because I thought that they denigrated women (which I know is ironic, given the subject of this post), but I'm tempted to fire some up and see if I can uncover some un-E! released news. AAARGH.

And just now I was just aimlessly checking Facebook, just passing the time while my vacation pictures upload on Shutterfly, and I see Kim peeking out of the side of the page. She's telling me that she can get me some super stylish shoes, picked just for me. And yeah, well, the next thing I know I'm going through a "3 minute style quiz" on shoedazzle.com. Oh yes, I did. If you are part of the population who reads newspapers and listens to NPR and can't be bothered with the businesses of a woman whose major accomplishment in life is having a large rear end, shoedazzle.com is a "service" that for the low, low price of $39.95 will ship you a pair of shoes every month. The shoes are supposedly picked just for you by a "team" of "stylists" of which Kim K. is one. On the front page, one pair of the shoes is actually cute--the others look like something purchased from "that" store in the mall--you know the one I'm talking about--the one that also sells fishnet stockings and those jeans with all the rips and rhinestones and has the employees who may or may not have an operating meth lab under the cash register. $40 seems a steep price to pay for those shoes, don't you think? Well, any wise person would think that. Not this girl. I finished the quiz and am currently waiting on the "stylists" to email me the results with the pair of shoes that they have picked just for me. Now, one side of my brain is saying I'm doing this whole thing under the title "sociological research." The other half is all like, "OHMYGOD, I can't wait to see what Kim picked for me!!! Then maybe I'll go to Dash and then we'll all go eat cobb salads together and talk about what a douche Scott is!!! And maybe Alice will grow up and marry Baby Mason and we'll all be this big happy family who loves each other's marketability!!! HUZZAH!"

Is anyone else drawn to the Kardashians? I mean, I can't be the only one. Just going to the grocery store tells me that as a nation, we are all drawn to them and whether or not they are gaining/losing weight. Why oh why do we care? Better yet, why do I care?

And even more important...what do I do if the shoes turn out to be cute? Pony up the $40 and hope for the best? Sometimes I amaze myself.