Chase me! I've got a Big Heart.

I think I've mentioned before that I've always wanted to run a marathon, and really, what better time to run one when I'm a stay at home mom of crazy twin boys in the middle of moving? I've got nothing else to do but run, right?

Well, I've decided to do the Marine Corps Marathon, just a short 4 weeks away. Tomorrow I run 20 miles. 4 weeks from tomorrow, I run 26.2. At first, I was running just to run. I mean, I had twins, what's 26.2 miles? And, in reality, there are so many who run marathons so much tougher than this, who run for their lives each and every day.

I'll let this website speak for itself, more or less. I put it here because I know I have a couple of faithful followers who may decide to give. Any amount will do - a dollar or five. We aren't greedy, we just want to make sure that babies live. That's a good reason to run, right? And, fitting into my prepregnancy jeans is good motivation too!
http://www.firstgiving.com/mirriamsrunforannabel

Worked up

I am so worked up over this election, probably because I am incredibly disappointed by my fellow Americans. I didn't realize that we really did want just anybody in our Chief Executive and co-Executive position. I thought when we told our kids "you can be President" (or VP) we meant if you do really well in a very good school and actually um, work for a real government with more than 10 people in it, then you can be President. Not, go to community college and then play JV basketball and then you can be President (or VP). I am clearly exaggerating here because she did go to college (University of Idaho) and she played basketball there, or something.

It reminds me of the Chris Rock sketch:

How the hell did Marion Barry get his job back? Smoked crack, got his job back. How the hell does that happen? If you get caught smoking crack at McDonalds, you can't get your job back. They're not going to trust you around the happy meals ... How you gonna tell little kids to not get high, when the man's on crack? Don't get high, you won't be nothing. I can be mayor.

Okay, so its not that bad, she doesn't smoke crack, nor is she paying folks for sex, etc. But I think my point is clear. You shouldn't be like everyone else and get to hang out in the Oval Office.

Further ranting on Sarah Palin

My rant is in no particular order, but here goes:

1. She did not WRITE A WORD OF THAT SPEECH. Matthew Scully who was a Bush Speechwriter, wrote it. Not her. She read it. She can read very, very well. Great. I'm glad she can read. Can everyone stop gushing about how well she can read. Really? Is that all it takes? The fact that she can enunciate and use proper tone during a speech she did not write at all makes her awesome? Really?

2. Can you imagine if there was a woman on the Dems ticket who went back to work 3 days after giving birth? Holy Christos! They didn't like the fact that Hillary Clinton wore pants all the time!

3. What are 'family values' anyway?? I'm confused now. Can someone please tell me what it means to the Republicans because before I was sort of straight on it and now I'm not. I was on the phone today with a fairly prominent immigration attorney with whom I went to law school (who has a 7 month old baby) and we both wondered how SP does it. As career minded women, we know she can't do it and hold it all together. No way, no how. Something has to give. And, clearly, what gives is her family. But still, I thought the Republicans thought that someone should be home raising the kids. Who's home at Sarah's house?

4. Clearly, she believes the only person qualified to run for President is someone who has been in a war. That is the difference between McCain and Obama. Let's see if we can work this out logically: McCain - senator, no executive experience, in a war
Obama - senator, no executive experience
Palin - executive experience
Since Obama is unqualified to be president because he has no executive experience (according to Palin's speech) and Palin is qualified to be Vice President DESPITE the fact that she is the only one with executive experience, that must mean that only those with war experience (the only one in this campaign who fought for our country, according to her magnificient speech that she didn't write) are qualified to be President.

5. Since many are talking about why we hold SP to a different standard, let me ask this - did anyone see her blow a kiss to a gentleman in the audience during her speech? What do you think would have been the reaction if, say, Joe Biden had done that? Well, I can tell you this, they wouldn't have done it because it's not what you do while giving a speech as the VP nominee.

6. The RNC is a freak show, with the booing and the chanting and the stupid hats. Please people. I was undecided until I saw your horrible reality TV.

7. I hate Rudy Guiliani. I don't think he knows how to tie his shoes. They should never, ever, under any circumstances let him speak in public again. He is an absolute moron and a man with no morals or scruples.

9. I honestly feel bad for McCain because I think he means it. I think he's a decent fellow who has an honest love for his country. He's taken some unpopular stands in his day. I think he made a horrible choice and will live long enough to regret it, but only long enough. And then SP will be president. And she will have no idea what to do. None. At all. When I was the administrative director of Schenectady 2000 I oversaw just about as many people as she did during her days as mayor of Wasilla. Hmm. . .now if only I were born in this country. . .

10. Cindy McCain is better looking that Sarah Palin. Why isn't there a button that says "hottest first lady"?

11. Really? A button with SP's picture that says "hottest VP"? This is what our country has come to? And I thought we were the laughingstocks before.

12. It really is true that anyone can be president. SP has a BA in journalism. She was a part-time sportscaster. She has no official law learning. I think maybe she learned how a bill becomes a law from Schoolhouse Rock.

Ahhh, you know, I wouldn't feel this way maybe if everyone wasn't so up her ass all the time. Yes, she is attractive, yes she is fiesty, but she isn't a rocket scientist and it is absurd how crazy everyone is over a SPEECH SHE DIDN'T EVEN WRITE! And that's where all of this began.

I'm Insulted

I am checking in not to write about the beginnings of year 2 with toddlers (yes, they both walk now) or that I'm going back to work (not yet, but soon enough) but to say that while I was on the fence about Obama for a while (yes, its true, I was thinking about McCain) I am now quite clear on my vote.

McCain has completely insulted my intelligence as a woman. Let me make clear that I am not a fan of Mrs. Clinton's. I was not a supporter of hers. In fact, I am not a follower of politics in general since I think politicians make big promises and never deliver (obvious statement about politicians, I know). However, Hillary has balls. I don't mean she is manly, I mean she has gumption, to use an old fashioned word. She is smart, she is witty, she is wise.

Sarah Palin might be all of those things. . . eventually. Right now, she is a gimmick. Right now, she is a pawn in McCain's game. How on earth does the RNC say, with a straight face, that Obama doesn't have the experience to be President, but say Sarah Palin does? I mean, let's face it, McCain is OLD. He is probably going to die in office and then Mrs. Palin will be President. I'm sorry, but I think that a Palin presidency is a very, very bad idea.

I'm not even that concerned with the fact that her daughter is pregnant. I think it makes his pick even more gimmicky (gimmickier?) because I wonder how you really get around that if you believe what the RNC claims to believe. I'm not even that concerned that she put her career before her family (I know, I know, its very anti-feminist for me to say that, but this is my blog and I can say what I feel, right? Besides, it might still be post-partum hormones). What concerns me is her complete, unadulterated lack of experience.

Okay, I lied. I am concerned about the fact that her daughter is pregnant. And she put her career before her family. But, shouldn't the RNC be concerned about these things too?

Never, ever again.

In my initial post partum days, when I was certifiably insane, I thought I was ready to have another child as soon as my body bounced back. Luckily for me, it took my body a long time to bounce back (and its till doing a lot of bouncing, but that's another post for another blog). When I went to my OB for my 6 week checkup I asked him when I would be ready to try to have another baby and he said "It's not a matter of when you are ready physically, but when you might be ready mentally." If you are mental, you think you are ready 6 weeks post-partum.

I was not ready. And here I sit, with a much clearer head, thinking I might not ever be ready again. The reality is we have no money for more fertility treatments. IUI's don't work for us and IVF is expensive. We have two kids. And kids are expensive. I also don't think I could put myself through the torment of trying to conceive again, the cycling, the what ifs, the constant letdowns. I look at my body now and I think "look at what this amazing piece of equipment did." It's so different from before, when I would look at it and say, "why are you doing this to me? Why don't you work? Why are you failing me?" I don't ever want to feel that way again.

I don't want my children that I have here on this earth, I don't want them to feel like they don't matter, that my quest to bear another child is more important than them. I don't want to stay up nights crying, wondering if the painful breasts and cramps are PMS or early pregnancy symptoms. I don't want to have crying sex. Never again.

I don't want to be jealous of other women's swollen bellies, of large families crammed into mini-vans. I don't want to sit with friends talking about fertile mucous or temps. I don't want to do that ever again. I don't want to have all of my future plans include the caveat "unless I'm pregnant."

Here's what I want: I want my old body back. I want to go to the park with my kids. I want
to plan to run a marathon and not worry that I might be pregnant or have treatments. I want to remodel and then sell our house. I want to play with my boys. I want to teach them to wave bye-bye and clap and sing songs. I want to have sex because I love my husband and not because I want to procreate. I want to love my body for what it CAN do instead of what it couldn't. I want to just be happy for what I have now and not what I think I might have in the future, maybe. I want to learn how to live. Now.

Bella is beautiful

So, I'm going to give a shout out to our newest mommy blogger, my good friend JC who is writing about all things Bella.

There were points in time when I hoped I would be having a boy and a girl. Hey, the best of both worlds! Well, I got two boys and I am thrilled beyond words. But, I've also got Bella. She gives me a reason to look at girls clothes, to look at ribbons for girlie hair, well, just to engage in all things girlie. That, and I swear she was meant to be Yakey's twin.

A Million Points of Hope

I haven't been following the presidential campaigns much these days, you know, because I'm busy doing nothing. I've read a bit about Hilary's snafu's and Obama's middle name, I know that people think McCain is trustworth, but I think that is because he is old. Honestly, I find it all to be no different from the last election, give or take a few IQ points. The candidates will tell you what you want to hear, but at the end of the day its politics. I wish there was a way to believe that one of them will make a difference for me, for my children and for my grandchildren, but I don't believe it. Our parents and grandparents thought they were making good choices, choices that would leave the world a better place for us. You see how well that's turned out.

That being said, I have to admit to something: I am experiencing a new sort of hope, one not found in a million points of light or a galaxy of hope or whatever slogan the candidates are using these days. It's the hope you get when all the things you thought were mundane and lame suddenly become wonderful and interesting.

Today, Yacob picked up his sippy cup and took a drink. Then he put some cheerios in his mouth, followed by a bit of cut up banana, then another drink. My heart stopped. It caught in my throat. My breath came out in spurts. I could see the future right that instant. I saw him as a doctor, or a tattoo artist. I saw his brother as a philosophy professor or a kept man. I saw hope.

My boys have taught me this: Despite all the chaos in the world, there is hope. I found hope today in a sippy cup and some cheerios.

So, what do you do?

A long time ago, this question would give me the opportunity to say, in a nonchalant tone of voice, "oh, I'm a criminal defense attorney." Deep inside, I was quite proud of this line, of what it said about me: I am not afraid of hard work, my life is like Law and Order or The Practice, I wear nice suits and high heels, I deal with die-hard criminals and I am not afraid. I would hold my head high and I really thought people cared, that they thought I was some sort of super-being because I had a law degree. They would ask "Oh wow, do you deal with like, murderers?" "Yeah, it doesn't bother me. They are people too. Blah blah blah. Blah." I would feign boredom with the question, pretend like I was above it all. Yawn, just another day in paradise. I was a lawyer. No one else's job was as interesting as mine. When other folks would talk about their work, my eyes would glaze over - after all, they had JOBS but I was a LAWYER. I was the real deal. Gum chewing, ass kicking, rocking and rolling all over this land. L-A-W-Y-E-R.

I've had the chance, recently, to go out without the boys (see picture above) and a strange thing happens to me after having a drink and chatting with some stranger at a bar. They would tell me what they did and I would, as usual, pretend to care. Then came the strange part - they asked me what I did, and I couldn't answer! I said, "nothing." No, I didn't say nothing. I said, "nothing". That was my answer. When it came out of my mouth, I couldn't believe it, but there it was. Nothing.

How do I describe what I do all day to a 28 year old sitting at a bar on a Saturday night? He's not sitting there because he had friends come into town and his wife gave him a free pass from night duty. He's there because that's part of what HE DOES. In addition to whatever boring job he has, he sits at a bar, like a lot of people do. For me, it was a huge break. For him, its life.

So how do I explain what my life is like now? How do I explain the zerberts on the bellies? The teething? The laughing, trying to roll over, sitting up, waving bye bye (actually, salaam)? How do I tell this young man that I make sure dinner is on the table by 6:15 and I am a frequent user of the crock pot and I make casseroles and clip coupons and drive a mini-van? How will he ever understand that by "nothing" I mean "everything, and you just wouldn't understand." So, instead I say "nothing" and hope he thinks I'm a socialite that he must need to recognize, or that I'm on welfare or I've got a sugar daddy. If I tell him the truth. He just won't get it. Or, worse yet, HIS eyes will glaze over. And I just can't have that from some guy with a job.