Friday, May 25, 2012

making dinner

in the back of the mouth
( whose mouth whose mouth )
brushed last night, flossed this morning
rinsed with bright aubergine
i swallowed spines of sea creatures,
made mincemeat twice beat clean.
you hollered from a bedroom
( whose bedroom whose bedroom )
your feet dangling off the frame
my hand dipped this one in motor oil,
this one in vinegar and flame
i whipped dinner, spanked the floor clean
stuck head in the toilet, flush to drain.
in the back of the mouth
( whose mouth whose mouth )
a seed lay popped in an empty gum
two days later the thing erupted
and burnt the skin off my tongue.
lalala, you trilled from the couch
who is so smart now? lalala
i killed the mouse, two hands grip the cow.

maggie may ethridge

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Where In the World Is Ever Elizabeth?

Oh THERE she is!

Where else has she been?
Here

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Free Range Kids: Would You Leave Your 7 Year Old Alone At The Park?

Part of what we do as parents is decide acceptable risk. This is so easy when they are small, an almost cruel set up to the later years when our decision making includes the biology of Uncle Gary's drug addiction, teenage drivers crash more frequently with teen passengers, you CAN get pregnant when on your period, the damage they will do to themselves vs. the damage done to them by others and other various ongoing and mind boggling considerations. It's much easier to decipher risk/reward when it comes to crying it out, what foods are best and other small people subjects. Except.

Except when it comes to their safety.

My family on both sides is Southern. I was born in Jackson, Mississippi. Hello, Maggie May.  Growing up, my own parents each had the respective run of their neighborhoods, including both the small and modest homes up and down the tree thick streets and the vast expanses of woods around. My Grandparent's house had a wonderful backyard- a vast green stretch of tall grasses that abruptly ended in a line of trees, and a path, straight through. My mother and her brother and sisters ran through town, ran through the forests and streams and played in the soggy green and blue lakes. I've heard many stories about childhood romps and games from my mother and Uncles, and the year we moved back and lived in Mississippi- I was ten- I found myself sliding from ropes into large mud puddles, jumping off hot tin roofs and splashing in the backyard stream. Like my mother's childhood, there were rules, but no adult to enforce them. One of the rules all the kids in my mom's neighborhood knew was to never, ever play in the abandoned rowboat floating on the lake. Sure. My mother's brother, David, was fourteen when he and two friends made their way to the lake on a sweltering Jackson afternoon.  My Dakota resembles David- the Gardner jawline, the large blue eyes bright with intelligence, carved cheekbones and high lines of ear and forehead. I've seen pictures of David at that age, practically moving off the page with boyish exuberance, lust for life, beauty. He wore long shorts and high socks and had a proper short haircut. His shirt was tucked in and his belt slim. He took off to the lake with his friends, and played in the rowboat, and he drowned in that Mississippi water.

I spent my Grandmother's life wondering if she blamed herself. She wouldn't talk about David. The few times his name came up, she began crying silently, nodding her head 'no'. I don't know if she accepted that children all played free range those days, if she believed she had any other option in that wild Mississippi forest. I don't know if she thought it had been an acceptable risk. I know it wasn't an acceptable loss.

Playing in a lake is a clear and controlled choice- compared to the hotbed of information we have today on the possible dangers to our children, it is downright simplistic. It is the nature of our society today- gobsmacked with information, statistics and you-tube accountings of all and every type of experience- to talk about everything, and it is also the nature of our society today to be unable to put anything in perspective. So we are convinced that brain eating amoebas are as relevant a danger as car crashes.

Lenore Skenazy is the author of the blog and book  Free Range Kids and became a nationally recognizable name when she was infamously published that she let her seven year old son ride the subway alone.  Recently she has been surrounded by more controversy over her newest off-shoot, Take Your Kids To The Park and Leave Them There This movement is a day in a community where parents bring their children ages 7 and up to a local park and leave them, alone, until they come home on their own violition. The idea behind Skenazy's park day, according to her own press, is to promote activity, group play and lessen the 'real risk' of obesity, not obsess on the highly unlikely risks that something sinister will happen to your child. On Dr. Drew, when asked about the possibility of abduction or child on child molest (one of the most common forms of molest) Skenazy was frustrated- " ..that every time children go outside and play it has to be something sleazy.." Dr. Drew countered that in his line of work, he can't help but notice how common molest and sexual assault is.  When Skenazy pointed out that " 90% of sexual molests happen in the home " Dr. Drew quickly clarified that the actual statistic does not say 'in the home' but says ' happens by a person that the child knows.' This can be a person in the home- or a tutor, a friendly adult seen every week at the ice cream shop or a relative. Skenazy's final point was that we let our children ride in automobiles daily- the number one cause of childhood death- and accept that risk. Why, she argued, isn't the less likely chance our child would be molested or abducted a reasonable, barely statistically significant, risk?

You're asking the wrong person, I thought, sitting on my bed next to my ten year old daughter and 17 month old toddler. Meaning- me. If you are asking me, I'd tell you I'm neurotic about car crashes and think about them more often than I care to admit. I hate letting my children go in large steel cages that fly through the air next to other large steel cages driven by pretty much anyone- drunks, elderly people who shouldn't be driving, teenagers with no experience- it's insane that these people are allowed to operate heavy speeding machines next to my children, and yours. But I still let them go in cars. I still drive. And I keep my mouth shut about my fears, and just tell my kids to buckle up. Why?

Because it's an acceptable risk. Because modern life depends on car rides. Jobs, college, family and friends, hobbies- most everything that has meaning to us also includes, one way or another, driving. Unless we are the small percentage who live in towns without freeways, or are Amish. I want my children to live a rich, full life, and driving is inexorably woven into the fabric of our entire society.

But going to the park alone at seven? Is not. 

I can teach them about independence one small step at a time. I can let them play 'alone' without sending them quite that far away. Moderation is possible. I know that sexual assault and abuse is much more common than is reflected in the statistics, I know this in my gut. I know it from a lifetime of listening to friends- both male and female- recount their experiences of child molest to me; some stories small and upsetting and some enormous and grotesquely horrible. These things happen all the time. How far an assault goes is directly affected by the access. When I was right around seven, I was in a bookstore with my mom and sister. I stepped away from my mom and sister and walked to an aisle by myself, browsing the books. A man approached me, with a brown mustache and tight jeans and a shirt tucked in, and he quickly and briefly cupped my vagina through my pants. I stood perfectly still. I was not sure of what had just happened. The man smiled at me, and did it one more time. This time, I began walking toward my mother, and the man walked away. I never saw him again.  I'm glad I wasn't there alone.

What do you think?

PS
As I work on replacing this commenting system with one that works, I have had a few people tell me that if they load the entire Flux Capacitor page, vs just this one post, they see the comment button and can comment. FWIW. xo

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Poway Farmers Market

 I am wearing makeup! Holy crap!
 Ever is wearing Washable Marker #3 in Rose

 I bought organic kale and red cabbage. Lola held my Starbucks and my mom held Ever.
 Ian insisted he wasn't hot in that huge black Operation Ivy sweatshirt. OK....
 The choo-choo that Ever is fascinated with and terrified of.  She says choochoo in a breathless, near panicked voice.
At the end of our trip we stopped by the house kept in mint condition from the 1800's. Ever was all over that place. Lola didn't mind it either :)

Monday, May 21, 2012

Real Or Not Real?

Real Or Not Real?
Some (many) mornings of late, I wake
with dark birds in my eyes
They have taken the blue of my sky
-fly away with it in their claws and beaks.

REAL






 

Real Or Not Real?
This is how life is, sometimes.

REAL


Real Or Not Real?
For some of us, for many different reasons,
life is harder for longer.
Some, like Mrs. Kennedy,
don't make it.

REAL



Real Or Not Real?
Some people don't need a 'reason' to live.
Living is their reason.
They are very blessed or have worked very hard.
That is not possible for all of us, all of the time.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you work, you hurt all over
inside and out, under and in the fine veins of your left pinkie toe.
You can feel your heart. It hurts.

REAL


Real Or Not Real?
There are clubs no one wants to join.
Life Has Been Very Hard is one of those clubs.
We don't get to choose our childhoods.
We don't get to choose our diseases.
We don't get to choose our losses.
We don't get to choose our tragedies.
Sometimes, we can't even choose what we do.
We can only choose what we think about.

REAL


Real Or Not Real?
Every morning I awake into the internal blindness.
Every morning I lie with my body thick and useless against the sheets
and press my hands very gently against my eyes.
I feel the tears pouring from between my fingers.
Every morning I think of the faces of my children.
I remember I have to be more than I think I am capable of being.

REAL


Real Or Not Real?
My children save me.

REAL

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Submit for Launch of Full Disclosures

My Friends, 
Please submit for the launch of Full Disclosures and help me make it a success!

Full Disclosures wants your photo and essay of less than 500 words telling the 'truth behind the photo' this can be funny, strange, sad, lovely, inspiring, moving- anything- just: Tell it like it is.

send to fulldisclosures2@gmail.com

Authors can be anonymous or named, and we are happy to link to your site as long as it is not spam or porn!

Follow Full Disclosures on TWITTER:  @FDisclosures

People In Your Neighborhood

take a seat and read
Pacing The Panic Room    Ryan's latest post is beautiful and sad and brings me back to those heavy, quiet days after Mr. Curry and I lost our little baby. I am praying for Ryan and Cole.

Boston Mommas  This post is short but solid with very useful and informative tips on things to do when your child is having school anxiety.

Huffington Post A mother is banned from Facebook after posting pictures of her terminally ill son.

Sweetney writes from the gut about turning 42 and learning to heal from shame and self-doubt.


Friday, May 18, 2012

we all fall on our face sometime

 Some of us are just cuter than others while doing so
 You see those freaking adorable shoes Ever is wearing? I LOVE THEM. I got them at Bison Booties
She makes them in a crapload of different fabrics and they are all so cute. I have like four other pairs marked as favorites.
 My baby girl
Almost summer...

Thursday, May 17, 2012

just keep swimming

yeah, so you know my address. so?
swimming. the next day began My Horrible Rash.
now climbing from the tops of my breasts to my face.
it itches and hurts. 
i am looking for work. writing work, child loving work. 
joyful work.
meanwhile, i am readying the place. and swimming. and cleaning.
and writing. and praying. and reading. and playing. and working.
hello to everyone reading. secret readers, too. 
and my neighbor who stumbled here after meeting us. Hi neighbor!
i wonder if my IRS agent reads this blog.
she should also know then that i am looking for work.


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