After Mr. Incredible saves the world tonight and I get a few precious hours of sleep, I'm going off duty for the weekend. This is a big deal for me, because it's really the first time that I've gone on a Mommy Trip, since Mr. Incredible was born three years ago.

It's going to be a bitter sweet journey for a lot of reasons. I'm going on this trip with one of my best friends from college. She and I tried to get together for a girls' weekend about a year and a half ago. We made it to Charleston, but we had to turn around when we learned that one of my friends was dying. Oddly enough, at that very same time, my travelling buddy had a friend who was also dying of a brain tumor. My friend's death was sudden. Her friend's death was a longer and more painful journey. I don't really know which is worse: knowing you're going to die and being powerless to stop it or dying suddenly without a chance to say or do all the things you've wanted to say or do.

Another reason this trip is sort of bitter sweet is the place we're going. We're going to one of America's greatest cities. My Friend Who Shares the Same First Name has never been to this city. I've only been once, very briefly. It was at the time of another friend's death. It was a couple of years after we all graduated from college. I flew into this city in the afternoon, my friends picked me up from the airport, we went to dinner, walked around a bit, and then went to bed. We got up the next morning to begin the sad drive to our friend's memorial service. It was a bizarre time. We were all really happy to see each other, but so devastated by the circumstances that brought us together.

This time, I hope to make only happy memories of the trip with my friend and my visit to this wickedly cool place. Hopefully it won't be so wickedly cool that I'm too cold to have fun. That and the following picture are your clues about where I will spend my weekend. I'm going to try to take lots of pictures while I'm there, and I may even find some time to check in here. We're going to play it by ear.

Here's to a safe and fun mini-vacation!



Picture courtesy kestan.com

Labels: Mommy Time, Vacation

I can't stake claim to the title of this post. I ripped it off of Dr. Marc Lamont Hill, a professor of urban studies at Temple University. He is one of the many people who have been fighting for the release of Genarlow Wilson. As my regular readers know, I'm a bit obsessed with this case. After seeing Genarlow and some of his supporters on CourTV today, my obsession has grown.



I have been blogging about this case for a year now, but until today, I had not heard Genarlow speak extensively. I had heard a few five-second soundbites on CNN, but that's about it. Just four days after his release from prison, Genarlow appeared on the Star Jones show, and he has inspired me with his life outlook, his grace, and his passion to succeed.

This young man could have come out of prison pissed off at the world and what other people had done to him. He could have railed against the justice system, society, and white people who likely would never have been charged for a similar "crime." Instead, he accepted responsibility for what he admits was a stupid decision and vowed to succeed. He said a lot of people put their reputations on the line to help defend him, and he said, "I do not feel like failure is an option for me. I will succeed, and I'm making that loud and clear." He even took it one step further by saying the past few years have matured him as a person, and he is thankful for that. Wow, man. Wow.

Genarlow admits that he's had a lot of dark days during this ordeal. He says he made the choice to take the negative energy and turn it into something positive. Right now, he says he's trying to get into school as soon as possible and he's urging other young men to take his experience as a valuable lesson and think before they act.



He and his attorney, BJ Bernstein, are going on a campaign to educate young people. Bernstein and several other people have started an organization called My 5th to inform young people about the law and their rights. Genarlow Wilson was the inspiration for this non-profit. My 5th has a web site. Here's how the authors describe it:

"Ignorance of the Law is No Excuse! This legal maxim means that it is no defense to plead I didn’t know what I did was illegal!!! So that’s why you have to know your rights! My5th™ is a non-profit to discuss the laws that apply to you. We want to be real and tell you how laws affect your everyday life… you decide if they are right or wrong. We will cover both criminal and civil law issues. My5th™ gets it's name from the 5th Amendment of the Constitution---the clause that guarantees due process of the law before you are deprived of life, liberty or property and provides that you cannot be a witness against yourself. My5th™ will cover these rights and so many more."

My5th.org also has a fledgling blog that has some very interesting topics. It's targetted mostly at young people, but it's good information for everyone.



Also on the Star Jones show today was professor Marc Lamont Hill, who describes himself as a "hip hop intellectual." I checked out his blog today after I saw him on the show, and I'm his newest fan. His blog is fascinating. It covers a wide range of topics from politics, to culture, to sex. On the show today, Hill articulated much better than I could that "if every suburban teen engaged in oral sex were in prison, we'd have more prisons than Starbucks." Oh, how true is this? The bottom line is that every teen involved in oral sex wouldn't be prosecuted for doing so. Why was Genarlow Wilson?

If you feel as passionately about this case as I do, I hope you'll stop by those blogs and thank those folks for the work they've done and the work they will continue to do. I hope you'll help them continue this discussion and continue to support Genarlow Wilson as he tries to put his life back together. I am pulling for him, and I am pulling for the people who have worked so hard to get him out of prison and get his case into the national spotlight. Educating everyone about the laws regarding teen sex and the often unbalanced scales of justice is something positive that can come out of this negative situation.

Genarlow Wilson picture from CNN.com
Marc Lamont Hill picture from his web site
BJ Bernstein picture from my5th.org.

Previous posts about Genarlow Wilson:
Courtroom Capers
Faith Firmly in Place
In a Fog
Still No Justice for Genarlow
Let Him Go!
Justice Delayed

Labels: BJ Bernstein, Genarlow Wilson, Marcus Lamont Hill

Since Soul Mate and I both "work" in our home, we often spend 24 hours a day together. It's no wonder then that our blog post ideas might sometimes overlap. Soul Mate wrote a beautiful post this weekend that's similar in topic to what I have on my mind right now. Our illustrations of those thoughts are different, but since we share a life, we often share thoughts. This weekend's thoughts are about time and how stupid fast it escapes us.

I spent part of this weekend watching my friends' six and eight year old daughters. I took My Little Sunshine along for part of the time, because he loves these girls more than just about anybody. The time I spent with them gave me a glimpse at my future in parenthood.

My first lesson in parenting was in timing and organization in getting three kids ready to go to a soccer game. Since I spent a good part of my life as a news producer, I did pretty well at this. When you're dealing with two bright young girls, it's easy to delegate responsibilities. That's something I mastered in 1992, my second year working in TV news. I'm also a bit of a clock nazi, so I did alright with keeping them all on task. I hate, hate, hate to be late for anything, so I back-timed our departure with an estimation of how long it would take to get everyone ready for the game. Being able to back-time in your head is one primary skill that separates independent producers from dependent producers. Dependent producers should stay off my line. They will not survive. I rule the clock, beeatches.

My second lesson in parenting came in the car. I did pretty well with this lesson, but it was a little more challenging than the first. Getting everyone buckled up in the car with their proper gear was interesting. I was very thankful for the not-so-new family mobile. Soul Mate and I thought ahead with this purchase. We tend to keep cars until they're falling apart, so we made an investment in a vehicle that is equipped to tote multiple kids and their crap. We're not planning to have a huge litter or anything, but once your kids get into school, it seems like most parents we know are constantly either carpooling or carting around their kids' friends. We're all set in this regard. The third row rocked the house with three kids. Two in the middle: one in a car seat, one in a booster seat. One in the back: in a booster seat, but also with lots of stuff. The noise level in the car is significantly louder with kid-times-three. I didn't think it could get much louder than my noise-maker, but I was wrong. It was interesting to try to read directions to a place in No-Damn-Where while listening to all that singing/chattering/laughing/shrieking. I think with a little more practice I'd be a lot better at occupying kids during a car ride. With Sunshine, I just crank the Billy Jonas, and we're good to go. Billy worked for the other kids as well, but it was just louder.

My third through fifth lessons in parenting came at the soccer game. The third involved The Potty. Holy crap, that can be a challenge! I had three kids with three independent bladders. Add to that Lesson Four (Understanding and Adapting When Plans Change), and I was up to my eyeballs in pee-pee. See, we were supposed to be there at 3:45. Because of my superior back-timing skills, we got there at 3:43. At about 4:15, when the game was supposed to start, a coach's wife informed me that the game had been moved to 5:30 at another field. That meant that we would be at the soccer complex for about three hours. My newly potty trained son had to pee four times during that time. The first soccer field was pretty close to the potty. The second soccer field was as far as you could get from it. That's when his bladder kicked in. I worked off my Chick-Fil-A waffle fries walking back and forth to the bathroom. Fortunately, we survived without any accidents.

When the game time changed, I briefly considered packing up the kids and going somewhere else for a little while. That was until Lesson Five started: Not Freaking Out When a Kid Under Your Care Disappears. I sent Eight Year Old over to talk to her coach and gather her things on the sidelines. I turned to make sure the younger two were still with me, and when I turned back, Eight Year Old and coach were nowhere to be seen. I snatched up two chairs, a pile of snacks and the two younger kids and started sprinting. When I got to the area where the team USED to be, I started yelling, "Have you seen Eight Year Old?!?" No one else was alarmed. No one else seemed to give half a shit. Finally, as my panic level started to rise, someone nonchalantly shrugged and pointed. "She's over there with our other coach," Soccer Mom said. I almost cursed at this person for something that wasn't at all her fault. I'm a newbie at soccer field/coach/parent etiquette, but it really bothered me that the coach took off with a bunch of the kids without informing the parents. This must happen regularly, because all the other parents were still sitting in the shade on the hill above the first field. They didn't even move. Maybe I'm an overly-paranoid parent, but I was not at all comfortable with a child in my care being out of my sight. I sprinted with the other two kids and all the crap to the other field.

As soon as we got settled at the second field where the team was sort-of-not-really practicing, we had a potty emergency, immediately followed by a snack emergency. When we returned, there had been yet another non-announced field change. By the time the game started, we had lugged all our crap to three different fields and all three kids were tired. I'm sure I violated some sort of Soccer Parent Code, but by this point, I really didn't give a shit. I let the two younger kids play tag along the sidelines, I gave them piggy back rides, and I let my kid play the "drums" and sing Billy Jonas songs. It kept them occupied and happy, and at that point, that was my only goal.

Lesson Six was a tough one: Not Beating the Shit Out of the Coach When He Benches Your Kid. She's not even my kid and this pissed me off. I'm sure it's partly because neither of her parents was at the game, but they made Eight Year Old sit out for two periods. That didn't seem very fair at all. They were changing positions every quarter, and, frankly, very few eight year olds are any good at the game anyway. I don't see why they didn't bench a different kid each quarter. Eight Year Old handled this slight better than I did, though, so all was well.

By the time the game was over, it was nearly dark and quite chilly. The kids were completely spent, and so was I. It seemed like it took forever to get all of them to the car. The two younger ones were so bored, they were running in all directions. Eight Year Old was the only one interested in cooperating at that point. I didn't blame the younger ones. I didn't really feel like cooperating either. Somehow, I pulled a stupid game out of my ass, and they played long enough to get everyone and their crap in the car.

We were nearly out of the parking lot when Pee Emergency Number Four occurred. I was not about to go through the process of getting all three kids out of the car, to the potty, and back in the car again. So, I did what any mom with an I-Don't-Give-a-Shit-What-You-Think attitude would do: I pulled over to the woods-side of the parking lot, unbuckled my kid, and...
Crap. Plan interrupted. Take-the-Kid-Without-Asking Coach pulled up beside me and asked me if there was a problem. Nope. No problem, Coach. Just a little boy with a penis and a pee-pee emergency. It's convenient to have a boy in this case. They can pee any time, anywhere. I promptly sent that coach on his way, walked my kid over to the grassy area, stood behind him to shield him from the girls, pulled his pants down, and ordered him to pee. Several van-loads full of soccer families drove by during this incident. I'm sure they were mortified by my red neck behavior. I'm also sure I don't care.

Emergency handled. Kid rebuckled. Sun going down. Brain dead. For some reason, I kept staring at the directions and having a hard time reversing them. I chose to throw down the paper and follow my gut. This worked out surprisingly well, and we were in the fast food drive-thru in no time flat.

Once we got back to the house, the age difference became more and more apparent. Even though my boy is only three, he gets along fantastically with Six Year Old and Eight Year Old. They are very patient with his little boy ways. He idolizes them. After dinner, the girls were able to brush their teeth and get their PJs on by themselves. Eight Year Old also took a shower by herself. We watched a movie, and the girls went to bed pretty easily. Eight Year Old read until she fell asleep. I carried Six Year Old up the stairs (she was pretending to be asleep), tucked her in, and didn't hear another peep out of her.

Sunshine, on the other hand, needed help getting his PJs on and getting his teeth brushed. He was afraid to go to sleep in a strange house. Every noise, every shadow, every thing was a distraction. His first pseudo-sleepover ended in a call to daddy at 10pm.

This morning, the girls requested breakfast, got themselves dressed and brushed their own teeth. The only thing I did was fix their food and brush their hair. In many ways, it felt like a vacation. Only one thing snapped me out of my beach vibe: the board game braul. Whereas my three year old boy knocks people on their asses when they piss him off, girls scream and cry. This was something I did not know. My sister is more than seven years younger than me. We never really fought. My brother, who is nearly ten years younger than me merely swung bats at us when he was mad. I had never really seen this crying thing. Fortunately, a well-timed call from Daddy diffused the situation.

When I got home this afternoon, My Little Sunshine ran to me and jumped into my arms. I was only away from him for a few hours, most of which he spent sleeping, but he sincerely missed me. It felt good. We had a great afternoon together as a family, one that included several moments that I'm sure will elicit a smile from me twenty years down the road.

My big boy pulled his own pants off and on several times today when he went to the potty. Any parent who's lived through potty training can tell you this is a liberating time. Soul Mate and I praised him until he was all puffed up with pride. We gave each other a victory glance. Later in the day it made me wince.

The Potty Independence isn't the end. Soon, it will be teeth brushing and dressing. Later it will be sleep-overs and bike riding. Even later it will be dating and marriage. Tonight as I washed his hair, I realized that this time won't last much longer. These sweet moments of bubbles and splashing and needing mommy are so short.

I almost lost my warm fuzzy feeling tonight the fourth time my son screamed from his bed that he needed to pee or poop or whatever. I stormed up the stairs planning to yell at him. I was going to be firm. I was going to stop this whining for mommy stuff. That was until I saw his little face, streaked with tears. That warm fuzzy feeling came back. I remembered that my days are numbered. My baby is growing up, becoming less of a baby every day. Soon, he won't let me tuck him in or kiss him good night. When that happens, I'll be longing for the time when he cried, "I need my mommy!" I'll try so hard to hold on, while he tries even harder to shake my grip.

My friends think they owe me for helping them with their kids this weekend. I know, however, that I owe them for the glimpse of the future they gave me. It was a gift to be reminded that my time with this little man is so precious. Soon, he's going to be six and then eight and then...ugh. No matter how hard it is to parent a three year old some days, and no matter how much I long for the "vacation" days of parenting an eight year old, I'm going to treasure every second of these pre-school days. It's such an adventure and one I'm blessed to be taking.

Labels: My Little Sunshine, Parenthood, Soul Mate

I'm leaving Mt. Otis for part of this weekend to help some friends with their kiddos. It will be a big weekend.

My Little Sunshine will go to his first soccer game and watch one of his favorite girls in the world play. He will also have his first sleep-over with his favorite girls in the world. We will go armed with movies and popcorn. It should be a lot of fun.

It will also be a big adventure for me. Three kids at once? Do I have the skeelz? We shall soon see.

Labels: My Little Sunshine, Parenthood

The Georgia Supreme Court proved today that justice delayed isn't necessarily justice denied. Genarlow Wilson can now get on with his life. That life is certainly not what the 21 year old had in mind several years ago, but at least now the kid has a shot.



If you read this blog regularly, you already know who Genarlow Wilson is. He is the young man whose case has prompted many rants from this writer. When he was 17 years old, a 15 year old girl gave him head at a party. That sex act was videotaped, and what followed was a grave injustice. This young man was charged with a felony, treated like a child predator, and imprisoned. His life was forever changed for something that happens every day in every neighborhood in America.

If he was rich and white, his actions would have never been considered criminal. There would have been a Boys-Will-Be-Boys attitude taken by the powerful people who make those kinds of decisions. Wilson's conviction and sentence got civil rights leaders around the world all fired up. It got this mama all fired up, too. This boy had a bright future. There's no way to know what he might have done had he not spent two of the most important years of his life in prison. There's no way to know if he'll turn this injustice into something positive and show the Georgia Supreme Court they did the right thing by letting him out of prison.

The Supreme Court's decision was split 4 to 3. In the majority opinion, the court said, "Although society has a significant interest in protecting children from premature sexual activity, we must acknowledge that Wilson's crime does not rise to the level of culpability of adults who prey on children." The court continued, "For the law to punish Wilson as it would an adult, with the extraordinarily harsh punishment of 10 years in prison without the possibility of probation or parole, appears to be grossly disproportionate to his crime." Ya think?



I am a mother. I have high hopes for my son. I can't imagine what it was like for Genarlow Wilson's mother to sit by and watch her son go to prison. As mothers, we know our children are going to make mistakes. We hope that those mistakes don't have life-long consequences. We hope that they learn from what they've done and don't make the same mistake again. However, in Wilson's case, what was his mistake? I guess you could argue that it was a mistake to allow his blow job to be videotaped, because without that tape, I'm not sure what the prosecutors would have done. Was it a mistake for him to get the blow job? That's a moral question. When the law legislates morality (which it often does), it should be applied consistently to all races and classes. Unfortunately, it doesn't always happen that way.

If we charged every 17 year old boy who was getting freaky with 15 year old girls, we'd have a huge chunk of our teenage population in prison. I can count on one hand the number of people I know who weren't sexually active at this age. You can make all sorts of judgements about this if you want, but it's a reality. You can either get on your moral high horse and tell kids they're going to hell for having sex, or you can make sure your children are educated about how to protect themselves and let them make their own decisions.

Fortunately for other young men in Georgia, lawmakers have changed the statute that allowed teenagers who participated in consensual sex acts with other teenagers to be charged with felonies. Genarlow Wilson sat in prison as this happened, and he did not benefit from it at all. He will benefit from the Supreme Court's decision, however. He will get out of prison, and he will not have to register as a sex offender like a rapist or a child predator.

It will not be easy for Genarlow Wilson to get his life back. Who knows what he encountered in prison? Who knows what being in prison has done to his soul? Who knows what choices he will make from this point forward? I can only hope that he has a strong enough support system that he will find a way to be happy and successful. Maybe he will become a defense attorney and help other young people such as himself. Maybe he will become a prosecutor who does his job with honor. I certainly hope that prison didn't create a hardened criminal. So many of us out here have hoped that he would have another shot. Here you go, Genarlow. Go forth and prosper.

Here's CNN's coverage of the Supreme Court decision.

Here are my previous Genarlow rants:
Courtroom Capers
Faith Firmly in Place
In a Fog
Still No Justice for Genarlow
Let Him Go!

Photos courtesy CNN.com

Labels: American Justice System, Genarlow Wilson

Just got home from seeing the Black Crowes in Asheville. Full report coming up. Bottom line: they still rock, and I'd still do Chris Robinson. If I weren't married, of course.

Labels: Black Crowes, Music

Down from the mountain.
Soul rejuvenated.
Body tired.
Mind blank.

Many fun stories to tell.
No time to tell them.
Must defunk.

Missing the mountain already.
Glad to be home.
Weird.

Labels: Lake Eden Arts Festival, LEAF

I hope to write more later today, because I haven't gotten to purge my brain in several days. Our family has been struck down by the Annual October Illness. It's really kicked our asses this time. It has been especially inconvenient as always, because it fell in the middle of a major work crisis for Soul Mate, recovery from my eye surgery, and preparations for our Stinky Hippie Music Festival and Parental Visit. Not fun.

Anyway, I was just catching up on what's happened in the world since the fog fell over Mt. Otis, and I found this.

I'll try to keep that story in mind every time I start bitching about the high cost of our health insurance and all the important things our insurance company refuses to pay. Since we technically have our own business, we have private insurance with a major American provider. It's damned expensive, and the cost seems to go up every time we need to use our insurance for something. The co-pays are higher than they were a year ago. The monthly premium is higher than it was a year ago, by a lot. The prescription drug costs are higher. The list goes on.

I've even added socialized medicine to the pros and cons list on if we should move to Europe. As insane as it sounds, that wound up in the pro side. Although, with stories like the one I linked to above, that may get moved to the other column again.

Basically, someone did a study in the UK. It basically found that it was next to impossible for people to find a dentist that provided subsidized services through the National Health System. That left three-quarters of people to either pay for very expensive, private dental care or take matters in their own hands. Some people who responded to the survey said they had pulled their own teeth out with pliers or fixed crowns with a bottle of glue. I'm going to refrain from any jokes about British people and their teeth, because as a rule, I try to reject stereotypes, but that just ain't right.

Our health care system here in the U.S. is certainly screwed up. I feel very fortunate that we can afford the outrageous cost of private insurance. Many people can't. There are a hell of a lot of people in this country who work their asses off for companies that can't or won't provide them with health insurance. There has to be a better way, but I'm not sure socialized medicine is the answer either. Perhaps some of the geniuses running for president can lead us toward a solution. I'll hold my breath.

Labels: Health care system

I'm not sure what it is exactly, but most people in the South seem to have an aversion to walking anywhere. That's why God made cars, right? That sentiment is not just shared by the citizens of the South; it is almost enforced by the leaders of their fine communities. Until recently, most Southern cities I've either lived in or visited seemed to share a common feeling about parking the car and hoofing it: walking is for poor people.

I recall very few sidewalks in one Southern city that had the pleasure of my presense for way too long. Jackson, Mississippi is damn hot. I'll give you that. There are, however, some times of the year that it would be quite pleasant to take a stroll somewhere, anywhere. If you choose to talk a walk in Jackson, Mississippi, you either have no other mode of transportation, you are drunk or cracked out, or you feel like gambling with your life. It's just not safe for a number of reasons, but the lack of sidewalks is a big one, notwithstanding the whole freakishly-high-crime-rate thing.

Now, consider my current fair city, the one Soul Mate and I adopted as our home quite a few years ago. In March, we will have lived here for nine years. During that time, Greenville has gone from a decent and pretty place to a thriving community that most of the time we are proud to call home (note I said, MOST of the time). Community leaders have said they would like to make Greenville a more pedestrian-friendly place. There are a few areas where there are actually sidewalks, and some of them are actually maintained. Imagine that. A lot of the sidewalks seem to run along the same stretches as the not-widely-used bus routes. There also seems to be an overriding opinion that public transportation is for poor people as well, unless it's one of those cute little trolleys that roll down Main Street. No, those are just adorable, and it's OK for rich people to ride on them. Buses? Hell no.

City leaders have put a great deal of effort into developing our downtown area. In fact, there was an ad campaign that encouraged people to live, eat and shop downtown, something that hadn't been done here in decades. There are now a ton of shops, restaurants and a couple of nice parks. There's even a waterfall with a pretty cool pedestrian bridge over it. There's usually a pretty healthy police presense, so with the exception of the unusually high number of homeless people, the downtown area feels pretty safe. The sidewalks along Main Street are wide (in most places) and tree-lined. They are smoothly paved and even include clever sayings on plaques and a bronze mouse-search game that's fun for the whole family! There are many new parking garages that can accomodate thousands of cars.

In an attempt to encourage walking, the city has done a pretty good job of providing crosswalks that are painted (or in some cases bricked) at least in the downtown area. Most of them have the lighted "walking man" signs that let pedestrians know when it's OK to cross the street. However, the city has made little effort to educate the haughty, non-walkers on the basic traffic rules regarding pedestrians. You could argue that people should have learned those rules before they went to apply for a driver's license, but you have to remember that this is still The South, and many people think that walking just ain't right, and walkers should just get the hell out of the way or face the consequences. The city might serve its own purpose to help those folks see the light, so to speak.

Yesterday, I took My Little Sunshine downtown to enjoy some time in the sun. It was a beautiful, breezy day. I think October just might be one of my favorite months in this part of the world. We have all been cooped up in our house for a couple of weeks now for various reasons, so I thought it would significantly improve our level of sanity to breathe some fresh air. As Sunshine and I often do, we parked the car in one of the fairly cheap parking garages and set out on our afternoon journey.

Up until this point, Sunshine has primarily travelled in a stroller. Now that he's three years old and is pretty good about following my rules, especially when he's getting something out of the deal, I like to let him walk when it's safe. It's fun to watch him explore the world a little. It becomes a more active experience for him, rather than passively watching the world go by. Most of the time, it's a lot more fun for both of us if he can enjoy a little bit of freedom. Not to mention the added benefit of it tiring his little ass out.

So, since yesterday was nice and I thought both of us could use the exercise, we left the stroller at home. I took Sunshine's hand in mine and let him lead the way. I had no agenda when we started. I had a couple of ideas of what might be fun, but I wanted to let him stretch his legs and choose our adventure. We ended up going on a search for the mice and visiting a couple of the downtown fountains. We also made a stop at the Sterling High School monument that marks the integration of the public schools here in Greenville County. We stopped to get a smoothie and a coffee drink. We went to the toy store. We ran around in a grassy area where the city holds a little weekly concert series in the summer. We picked up leaves and acorns. We had a great time. Except the half-dozen times we nearly died. Those parts sucked.

There are some giant A-holes in the world. I especially have disdain for the ones who have no regard for the safety of small children. There are apparently many of those here in Greenville. We were downtown from about 2:45pm to 4:15pm, a time frame during which many people are still working. It was certainly not rush hour. People shouldn't have been that angry or stupid or dick-heady.

I have spent a good deal of time since Sunshine has been walking explaining to him the rules of the road. He knows he has to hold my hand in parking lots, garages, most sidewalks, and certainly while we cross the street. He knows what the colors on the traffic lights mean, and even he knows what the symbols mean on the pedestrian traffic signals. We've made it into a fun game to interpret what the lights are telling us. It makes the time go by faster for a three year old with slowly-developing patience.

As we walked yesterday, I was amazed at how many people either don't know, or don't care, about the rules regarding pedestrian traffic. I lost count of the number of people who nearly plowed over us. I lost count of the number of "how dare you" looks I got from drivers, who were pissed at me for impeding their progress. At nearly every crosswalk, we almost got run over by people making right turns on red. In most cases, the drivers didn't even look before they turned; they just barrelled on through until they had to slam on their brakes to avoid mowing us down. In several cases, it wouldn't just have been me and my three year old. It would have been four or five people injured or killed by a stupid or self-important driver.

It happened so many times, I started to doubt my own understanding of the traffic laws. Being the good little journalist I am, I did some computer research as soon as I had a free minute. Traffic laws regarding pedestrians are pretty much universal in America. Most states have traffic laws in their codes, but in some states, such as South Carolina, cities are permitted to set up additional ordinances as necessary. Again, most of these rules are universal in this country and are common sense.

The following is taken from the South Carolina Code of Laws and Regulations:

SECTION 56-5-970. Traffic-control signal legend.

...

(a) Green indication:

1. Vehicular traffic facing a circular green signal may proceed straight through or turn right or left unless a sign at such place prohibits either such turn. But vehicular traffic, including vehicles turning right or left, shall yield the right-of-way to other vehicles and to pedestrians lawfully within the intersection or an adjacent crosswalk at the time such signal is exhibited.

...

3. Unless otherwise directed by a pedestrian-control signal, as provided in Section 56-5-990, pedestrians facing any green signal, except when the sole green signal is a turn arrow, may proceed across the roadway within any marked or unmarked crosswalk.

...

3. Except when a sign is in place prohibiting a turn, vehicular traffic facing any steady red signal may cautiously enter the intersection to turn right or to turn left from a one-way street into a one-way street after stopping as required by item 1 or 2. Such vehicular traffic shall yield the right-of-way to pedestrians lawfully within an adjacent crosswalk and to other traffic lawfully using the intersection.

SECTION 56-5-990. Pedestrian "walk" and "wait" signals.

Whenever special pedestrian control signals exhibiting the words "Walk" or "Wait" are in place such signals shall indicate as follows:

(1) "Walk" indicates that a pedestrian facing such signal may proceed across the roadway in the direction of the signal and shall be given the right of way by the drivers of all vehicles; and

(2) "Wait" indicates that no pedestrian shall start to cross the roadway in the direction of such signal, but any pedestrian who has partially completed his crossing on the walk signal shall proceed to a sidewalk or safety island while the wait signal is showing.

B) If a driver of a vehicle violates Section 56-5-2770 (A) or (C), and the violation proximately causes great bodily injury or death to a pedestrian, the person is guilty of a felony and, upon conviction, entry of a plea of guilty or nolo contendere, or forfeiture of bond, the person must be:

(1) fined not less than five thousand dollars or more than ten thousand dollars and imprisoned for not less than sixty days or more than one year when great bodily injury results;

(2) fined not less than ten thousand dollars or more than twenty-five thousand dollars and imprisoned for not less than one year or more than five years when death results.

ARTICLE 25. PEDESTRIANS; RIGHTS AND DUTIES THEREOF

...

SECTION 56-5-3130. Pedestrians' right-of-way in crosswalks.

(a) When traffic-control signals are not in place or not in operation the driver of a vehicle shall yield the right-of-way, slowing down or stopping if need be to yield to a pedestrian crossing the roadway within a crosswalk when the pedestrian is upon the half of the roadway upon which the vehicle is traveling or when the pedestrian is approaching so closely from the opposite half of the roadway as to be in danger.

(b) No pedestrian shall suddenly leave a curb or other place of safety and walk or run into the path of a vehicle which is so close as to constitute an immediate hazard.

...

SECTION 56-5-3230. Drivers to exercise due care.

Notwithstanding other provisions of any local ordinance, every driver of a vehicle shall exercise due care to avoid colliding with any pedestrian or any person propelling a human-powered vehicle and shall give an audible signal when necessary and shall exercise proper precaution upon observing any child or any obviously confused, incapacitated or intoxicated person.

The bottom line of all this is really simple: if my three year old can learn and obey the rules, so can you. Oh, and stop giving me dirty looks because you think only poor and/or stupid people walk, especially outside. If I followed your logic, I would have to believe that only lazy and fat people drive through downtown and hold up traffic for ten minutes waiting for a street-side space to open. No, that would be generalizing and I wouldn't do that.

Labels: Mama Rant, My Little Sunshine, Pedestrians

In addition to trying to heal from eye surgery, Soul Mate and I have been working on a massive freelance project. That means I haven't had any time or eye strength to write here. I'm feeling a major jones, though, so I've got to write something that's not about players of a certain game that involves cards and is on TV a lot these days. I'm getting yelled at for doing this, so it may be a very short post.

I had a minor meltdown this weekend over my eyes. One of them is healing exponentially faster than the other, so much so that I felt like something must be terribly wrong with the weaker one. After breaking down in tears and frustration Sunday night, I went to the doctor on Monday to have him check my healing progress.

I know you still don't have the entire story, and I'll get to that eventually, but there was some drama. One of the silly events resulted in a contact being placed on my right eye post-surgery. My doctor's theory, and it's just a theory, is that the contact acted like bandage almost and got that eye on the fast-track to healing. For most of the day, until I've been using my eyes for hour after hour, I can almost forget that I had surgery on my right eye. My left eye, however, has been a very different story. It's irritated, foggy, and not as good with distance vision. Apparently, that's all normal at this juncture. It's my right eye (the good one) that is the freak. It should not be doing this well, according to my doctor.

With that peace of mind, I woke up this morning a new woman. My eyes look tremendously better. I don't look like someone beat me with a baseball bat. Best of all, they both feel better and I can see really well. I got some work done while My Little Sunshine was at school, and this afternoon, I got to hold my good friend's new baby. I took Sunshine with me, and it was so interesting to compare a three week old boy to a three year old boy. Damn, how time flies.

My eyes are tired, so I'm going to get off the computer for now. This week, I hope to start working out again, because I've needed a lot of Ben and Jerry's during my "recovery." Icecream heals all wounds. Well, most of them. It doesn't do much for my fat ass, but that's another story entirely. I also hope to start getting my shit together for my "stinky hippy music festival." Oh, I hear the mountain calling!

Labels: Lasik

I don't feel like getting into the full LASIK Trip Report yet, so this will be another brief update for those of you interested in the process (hi, Maudie!).

Surgery day was Thursday, so I'm just past 48 hours after the operation. Here are some observations off the top of my head in no particular order:

1. My distance vision in my right eye is a lot better than my left (hoping that changes soon)
2. My overall vision is still sort of hazy (like a chlorine haze)
3. My eyes still look like I've been in a fight
4. The eye drop regimen isn't as tough as the first two days
5. I'm happy to be rid of the wrap-around sunglasses inside (still have to wear them outside)
6. My face is covered in the sticky goo of surgical tape from the eye shields I have to wear at night (gotta figure out how to remove that...a friend suggested olive oil).
7. I'm in desperate need of a shower, which I'm about to take (little afraid of the water/soap in the eyes thing...I will wear my eye shields)
8. Seeing something in my peripheral vision (probably just swelling)
9. Wishing it was a week from now, so I'll know the true results
10. Seeing better every day
11. Colors seem to be brighter than before (Soul Mate suggests that I have been looking through something for most of my life...glasses or contacts)

Overall assessment at this juncture: Totally worth it. Totally.

Labels: Lasik

Thanks for all of your thoughts, everyone. I really shouldn't be typing right now, but I can't resist it.

My up-close vision is not great right now. However, I think a lot of it has to do with the large, wrap-aound sunglasses I have to wear inside at all times (except the cool plastic patches I have to tape to my eyes when sleeping). So, please forgive any typos.

My far-away vision is drastically improved already. Every time I go to sleep and wake up, I can see the clock on the VCR a little better. That makes me very hopeful that things went well.

My checkup appointment is at 4:15 this afternoon. At that point, they will remove a contact they had to put on one of my eyes (that will be included in the whole "trip report"), check my vision and decide if I'm capable of driving again.

Right now, there is some discomfort, although I am finding that it is pretty easy to fix. I have two sets of drops I have to use every hour (that's a lot) and one set of drops I have to use four times a day. I can tell an immediate difference in my discomfort level when I put in just one set of drops. I think all of the discomfort I'm feeling is normal. The only time (since the surgery itself) I would say that I've felt any pain is when I woke up this morning. By that time, it had been seven hours since I last put any drops in my eye, and I think that pain was simply due to my eyes being way over-dry.

Anyway, there is an interesting story to tell about the surgery itself, but this is straining my eyes too much. I'll tell it when my eyes feel a little better. Both Soul Mate and my mother immediately remarked that of all the people getting that surgery that day, it just had to be me, Queen of the Worry Warts, who had an "unfortunate incident." Well, there's your tease. Hope you'll tune in a 5. Sorry. Can't resist a good news joke.

Labels: Lasik

"This is, by far, the best thing I've ever done for myself," my friend Capital J Journalist said on the phone last night. I had had this conversation with her several times before, but this time, it had a bigger impact on me. That's because it was basically the eleventh hour, and there was only a last-minute chance of turning back.

When CJJ decided to get LASIK a couple years ago, it started sounding better to me. Even though I've been a big baby about the idea for quite some time, CJJ's endorsement of anything means a lot to me. She is a highly intelligent, well-informed, very deliberate person. Most decisions she makes come after a great deal of discussion, thought, and research. She is an independent thinker with an amazing bullshit detector. She is not easily swayed by a sales pitch. She also shares my need to be in contol. The fact that she could take this leap was a couple extra checkmarks in the "yes" column.

My surgery is scheduled for 10:30 this morning. I have been utterly terrified all week. Last night, I could barely type because my palms were so sweaty. I told a friend on Monday that if I could convince the doctor to give me some valium four days before my surgery, I'd totally do it. I think this week would have been a lot more enjoyable had I been under the influence of some good prescription drugs. I, however, am a person with responsibilities, so I have trudged through the week completely sober.

So, I'll likely be out of commission for at least today and maybe tomorrow. Hopefully, it won't be much longer than that. If I die or go blind like the consent forms warn, it's been real, people. I'll just hope my surgery goes like my friend CJJ's, and I'm back here in a couple of days telling you that it's the best thing I've ever done for myself.

Labels: Lasik

So, Absinthe asked my husband tonight if I was bored and needed anything to do. Oddly enough, I've taken the night off from my extensive bon bon eating regimen to work on a massive freelance project. However, since I can't resist a good Mama Rant, here I go, procrastinating and ranting, all at the same time!



See that little picture up there? The one in the middle of the top row is the latest of my son's toys that I will be sending back to the manufacturer. Wanna guess why? Well, unless you have been living under a rock for the past several months or you just don't give a crap about kids, you know that that little beauty up there and millions more contain excessive amounts of lead paint. Wanna know what's even more disgusting than the fact that my little boy's toys contain lead paint? That little "Toad" car up there? Um, yeah. THE MANUFACTURER SENT IT TO ME. Know why? As a gift for being a loyal customer who was affected by the company's last round of recalls. For what? TOYS WITH LEAD PAINT!!!

Those of you who read this blog may be sick of this particular rant, but I'm sorry, this is just unacceptable. I'll reiterate a couple very important points here:

1. American companies who choose to save money by producing their toys overseas damn well better make sure that the toys they're making in those foreign plants are made according to U.S. standards...and won't kill our kids.

2. If their toys aren't safe, they should suffer some sort of sanctions from the American government, especially those companies that repeatedly sell unsafe products to American children. Hello, Mattel? I'm talking to you.

3. I will continue (as I did the other day) to refuse to buy toys made by Mattel (who also owns Fisher Price) and now, I will no longer buy toys made by RC2 Corp. either.

This puts a really big cramp in my style. My son loves the movie Cars. All of the Cars toys are made by Mattel. My son loves Thomas the Train. Those toys are made by RC2. However, no matter how much it hurts, I will continue my boycott and my vocal opposition to these manufacturers. In fact, the other day, as I was telling my son (just above the acceptable level of talking in public) that I would not buy him toys that contained lead paint that could hurt him, another mother stopped to join in on my conversation. She was totally fired up, too. She made me feel a little less crazy about the way I've been carrying on about this. Just don't mess with my kid, OK?

The L.A. Times is reporting that RC2 sent out a letter to the customers affected by the latest recall-recall. I have not gotten my letter yet, but here's what The Times says it says (in part):

"Dear Valued Thomas and Friends Customer,
...

"We are deeply apologetic for and embarrassed by this turn of events, and remain determined to make it up to you and restore your confidence..."

The letter is from RC2 CEO Curt Stoelting and President Pete Henseler. Mr. Stoelting and Mr. Henseler are offering me a replacement "Toad" and another "free gift" if I send back my lead paint-tainted toy...AGAIN. I'm so sorry you guys are embarassed. That's so sad. Are you embarassed by your bagillion dollar bonuses that you get for systematically trying to wipe out the next generation of Americans while trying to save a buck? I doubt it.

I know some parents will choose to pass on this recall. I think I will take them up on their offer, though. I would like them to pay my shipping costs (which they did last time), I would like them to pay to make a new "Toad," I would like them to pay to manufacture another free gift. I would also like them to pay millions of dollars in fines for completely disregarding the health and safety of my child, but that's not going to happen.

So, in the interest of protecting my son, he will never see the new "Toad" or the free gift. I will likely end up packing up all of his Thomas toys while he's sleeping one night this week. They will be replaced by something that I can feel confident is safe. That will likely require some more research on my part, but that's something I'm willing to do.

What I'm not willing to do is give these money-grubbing jerks any more reason to continue producing tainted toys. They can keep on doing it if they want, but they will do it without our hard-earned dollars. In the meantime, I will continue my Mama Rants for whomever will listen (or read as the case may be).

Thank you, Absinthe, for caring about our children, for giving me a reason to rant and procrastinate, and for getting me all fired up again. I'm sure Soul Mate will thank you later.

By the way, Dear Reader, you should go read Absinthe's latest blog post. It's a Daddy Rant about a viscious attack the four year old son of Neal Pollack, a.k.a. Alternadad. I'm fired up about that one, too. I just haven't had the time to address it. I'll just let Absinthe speak for me on that one.

Back to the recalls, here's some more information you should read if you have children who have toys:

Latest RC2 recall information from CPSC

June RC2 recall information

My first Thomas recall rant

My first Mattel recall rant

My second Mattel recall rant

My third Mattel recall rant (with a little side of Thomas Ravenel)

Labels: Lead paint, Mattel, RC2, Thomas the Train, Toy recall

Last night around 7pm, my doorbell rang. That little ding-dong sound always sends the kid and the dog into a frenzy. The dog starts to bark her little head off and the kid runs straight for the window screaming WhoisitWhoisitWhoisit? After securing the dog in the backyard, I went to the door to see who in the hell was disturbing the winding down of our day. I saw the little mop-head before I opened the door. It was Curious Kid, who was six when we moved into this house. Now, he's in middle school, and someone sold his little soul to the devil.

As soon as I saw the stuff spilling out of his hands, I knew what I was in for. Before I even looked at the stack of pamphlets, I knew I would buy something. I felt sorry for this little guy. I have for the past seven years now. He's a lonely little boy with very little parental supervision, and I wasn't going to look into his little puppy dog eyes and tell him no.

I picked something at random after flipping through the pages aimlessly for a few minutes. As I started to fill in my information, I noticed there were only a couple suckers on the order form above me. I asked Curious Kid if I had to pay him now or later for the Crap I Didn't Need, and he said I should probably pay him now, seeing as how the sale ended tomorrow and all.

Clearly Curious Kid doesn't have parents who guilt all their co-workers into buying wrapping paper that costs more than the comforters on their beds. Clearly Curious Kid didn't feel the need to take time out from his studies to go around bugging the entire neighborhood. He was going out the night before he had to turn in his Suckers List to the vampires at his school just so he wouldn't be berated for not trying. Good for Curious Kid, and good for his completely uninvolved parents.

Fortunately, My Little Sunshine is not yet a student in South Cackalacki public schools. If I have my way, he never will be, but you never know what's in the cards. I do, however, have quite a few friends who have children in the local school district. They tell me they all got their fundraising packets before they even met their children's teachers. That is a disgusting display of screwed up priorities if you ask me.

This is all high-pressure stuff here. The kids get offered these crazy incentives to go out pimping cookie dough and worthless gadgets. The ones who either have neurotic parents or a really strong desire for a new bike get rewarded for their efforts. The ones who either don't give a rat's behind or who have parents who object to the whole idea are frowned upon. Those people are the bad ones who don't care about their children's education or don't have enough school spirit to sell their souls.

I used to have a co-worker who would go on a rant of epic proportions at the beginning of every school year. She adamantly refused to allow her boys to go door-to-door selling crap to provide funds for their public school. She felt it was dangerous and immoral, and she would tell anyone who would listen about her objections. I saw her point, but this was several years ago, before I became a mother. Now, I want to jump on her bandwagon, holding a bull horn in one hand and a "No Kid Pimping" flag in the other.

What really burns me up is that this has become not only accepted practice, but expected practice. These things must be making big money for someone because they continue to grow like kudzu over a field of dead bodies. However, they clearly have not served to improve the state of education in South Cackalacki. We are still second-to-last in the nation, just above Mississippi.

The other thing that gets me all fired up is the fact that this God-fearing anti-gambling state approved a lottery in order to improve its educational system. Lottery proponents sold it to the voters using video of kids and blackboards. Once the voters signed on, they learned that most of the money wasn't going to kids or blackboards, it was going to provide free tuition at the state's technical colleges. Little Johnny can't read any better than he could before the voters bought those lottery commercials hook, line and sinker.

Now, don't get me wrong. I think it's fantastic that people in this state can go to technical colleges for free. I'm sure a lot of people have benefitted greatly from this. However, wouldn't that money have been better spent teaching basic reading, math and science to our students in K through 12? Wouldn't it have been better spent keeping so many of those art, music and physical education programs that have been obliterated? Wouldn't it have been better spent providing a decent living wage for teachers, so that more intelligent people would actually consider that as a career path? Wouldn't it have been better spent on whatever the hell all that wrapping paper is supposed to be paying for? Wouldn't the lottery serve a better purpose if it enabled us to stop prostituting our kids to fund education? Come on, people.

If I have no other choice but to educate my son in South Cackalacki public schools, I will happily do my part to help raise money if the situation remains so dire. I will bake them some nice cardboard cookies or cakes or muffins. I will do my time at the dunking booth. I will help blow up a thousand balloons. I will not, however, send my kid out into the streets selling worthless crap to my friends and neighbors. I'm sure I will have to pay for the therapy that he will need to go against the grain on something that has been so indoctrinated as the key to our future, but I'd rather do that than make him do the job our government is supposed to do. We should be ashamed of ourselves. It just ain't right.

Labels: Education, School fundraisers, State Lottery

Ever have one of those utterly relaxing and refreshing evenings that make you feel somewhat human again? Once you become a parent, those days are few and far between (for most of us anyway). Soul Mate and I had one of those nights this weekend, and it reminded me what fun it was to have a life.

We went out for Hot Mama's birthday. You might know her husband. He's a freakishly large television news anchor for my former station, the one with the peacock and the number that comes between three and five. He's quite famous. If you don't know how famous he is, just ask him. Hot Mama and Anchorman also invited MENSA Mama and Funny Dad to come along. We had never met them, so I wasn't sure how it would go. Anchorman had told me that MENSA Mama was freakishly smart and had a nice rack, so I was intimidated at the thought of her.

Turns out, MENSA Mama and Funny Dad were awesome. They were the perfect compliments to our Fabulous Foursome (not in that way, although the topic of swinging did come up, jokingly of course...or so you know anyway). We have always loved Hot Mama and Anchorman, even though I often pretend to dislike the TV guy, since it is so fun to antagonize him. They are smart, funny, and always entertaining. They love their kids. They love each other. It just so happens that their neighbors are equally awesome.

We went to a new restaurant in G-Vegas. Oddly enough, it was recommended by some bloggers in Los Angeles. Soul Mate and I camped out at the bar of American Grocery for about 30 minutes before we sat down to eat. The drinks we very creative, and the bartender worked on them like an artisan. He was very proud of his creations. They took a little longer to make than the average bar drinks, but they were worth the additional couple of minutes.

When we were seated, we met our delightfully funny waitress, who put up with no small amount of grief from our group. She immediately began to poke at Anchorman, which made her instantly endearing to me. She laughed with us, answered our stupid questions, and made a few obscure cultural references. She was around when we needed her and not when we didn't. She was honest about a few issues they were having with staffing and supplies that night and made some good recommendations.

The food was fantastic. The portions were good sized, despite the apparent opinions of some another person tangentally connected to our group. We all had appetizers, a main course, a dessert and several drinks. I'd say our average bill per couple was about $175. We could have opted for the chef's tasting menu, which would have been $180 per couple, an additional $90 per couple if you chose the wine pairings. We would not have chosen that option, since one of us needed to be sober enough to drive home.

Overall, I'd give it a pretty good review. I had a very enjoyable time. They do have a few kinks to work out it seems, but I'm sure every new restaurant does. I hope they succeed. They are certainly in a great location, the hottest area in town right now just a short walk from the new downtown baseball stadium. I'd say if they can get those small issues worked out, they have a much better than average chance of making it in G-Vegas.

Our next stop was a restaurant/bar called Liberty, which is adjacent to the ballpark. It was a very nicely decorated joint that was very packed. The age range of the customers was very broad. I saw college-age people all the way to a few horny geriatrics. It was quite loud, though, and I think I was too sober for all that action. Hot Mama and I remarked as we were going to bathroom that places like this are one of the many reasons we are happy we are not a part of the singles scene. It was a meat market in all senses of the word. I found the service there to be lickety-split for a restaurant/bar at 10pm. We had a server come over to us several times in the 30 minutes or so that we were there. That is not typical in this town.

Yeah, we went home much earlier than we would have in the old days. We had a new babysitter, who is an actual married adult. I didn't want to party like a rock star and have to take a cab home the first time she worked for us. That would have just been bad form. My Little Sunshine seemed to like her, and she seemed to handle him fine, so hopefully, she'll want to help us out again. I need more nights with intelligent, funny, and entertaining ADULT company. It's good for the spirit.

Labels: Date Night, Friends, Soul Mate