2012 Milestones

2012 has been a year of milestones and transitions in the Attractor household.  Since May, Tall Daughter E has graduated from high school and turned 18.  Tiny Daughter M has completed elementary school and is on her way to middle school this fall. This is taking quite a bit of mental adjustment on my part.

For one thing, I have no more small children.  Much like when we completed potty training I have the sense of transitioning to a different stage of parenting.  Because the girls are 5 years, but 6 grades apart, I have had a child in elementary school every year for the past 13 years.  This fall will be the first time in a long time that the rhythm of the grade school year will not be a factor in our home.  That is a little weird.  If you spent even 15 minutes with Tiny M, you would be quite sure that there are no more little girls in our home.  She will be 13 this fall – definitely 13.  With older children comes a certain amount of freedom, but also some anxiety.  As Bridget once told me, “Little kids, little problems; big kids, big problems.”

The everyday things with Tall E are much the same as they have been, but there is the adjustment that we are now learning to live as adult women in the same home.  I’m still her mother, but she is an adult now and that makes things different.  She still needs guidance and support, but I need to temper my bossiness with respect for her autonomy.  That doesn’t exactly come naturally to me.

Next month my mother turns 70 and Fabulous Husband S turns 40.  This doesn’t seem to bother him much, but for me, staring middle age in the face is uncomfortable.  I don’t think I’m breaking new ground by saying I feel much younger than that and am astonished to find myself in this state.  Remember how old and out-of-touch middle aged people seemed when you were young?  That’s me now.  Those Facebook friends from high school who look so old? That’s how I look to them. While neither S nor I are aged I have to admit we are not young anymore.

The last few months have been a sort of a microcosm of life.  Each day is much like all the ones before and after it, but taken as a whole, I feel like there has been a huge continental shift and I am standing on a new piece of land, watching the familiar piece drift away.  I’m sure this land will soon become more comfortable and I will get used to our new normal, but it is still noticeable that things are not the same.  On the positive side, this season of transition reminds me to be present in each day and treasure it.  The stuff that will seem to have been important later is the stuff that is happening now.  As the hero of my generation, Ferris Bueller, once said, “Life moves pretty fast.  If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Of course, Ferris is looking a little older, too.

I Can't Take Any More Misogyny

I am trying to raise two girls here and it hasn’t been getting any easier lately. I am trying to raise young women who make their own choices and take responsibility for them, young women who can accomplish anything they set their minds to, happy, healthy, well-adjusted young women. So all of the ugly misogyny in the news lately is freaking me out.


While I am trying to tell my daughters that they can do anything they can dream, a presidential candidate is arguing publicly that they should not be allowed access to birth control. Birth control. We are not talking about late term abortion, or teenage sex, or anything that used to be controversial. They are being told that their future should be limited by their fertility and what kills me about this is that he just won primaries in three states. 20-ish years ago, when I was in high school, we never thought of contraception as anything that was in danger. It was just understood that a woman had the right to decide whether or not to conceive and that it was good for families not have more children than they could afford. These were evangelical Christians who understood that contraception was a net social benefit. I never imagined we would be having this argument.

On top of the normal fat-shaming and slut-shaming that happens every day in our society, what else has been going in misogyny lately? Well, I’ve read about people being unhappy that women breast feed in church, as if choosing to feed your child means you should be shut out of society. On the other hand, if women bottle feed, they are attacked from the other side for being selfish and not putting their baby’s health first.

A commentator on Fox News recently said that women should expect to be raped if they join the military. She criticized feminists who complain about “too much rape”. I would like to ask her what exactly would the right amount of rape be? Ladies, if you bravely decide to service your country and risk your life, expect that rape is just part of the package. What happened to support the troops?

We have all read about the Susan G. Komen foundation being pressured into dropping, and then restoring, funding to Planned Parenthood. I don’t need to cover it here. But Planned Parenthood continued to be a target because they make it possible for women to have sex, and that is bad.

Abortion rights are being systematically attacked all over the country. In these attacks women are continually portrayed as slutty, selfish, and stupid creatures who couldn’t possibly make a good decision without an authority figure helping her.

The Grammys decided that beating your girlfriend into the hospital doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be a featured performer. At my house, we turned off the volume while Chris Brown performed and discussed domestic violence. Yes, it was a teachable moment, but what we saw was that one person’s safety is less important than another person’s fame.

Today women were excluded from congressional testimony on the new federally-mandated contraception coverage. Apparently the subject at hand was religious rights, not reproductive ones.

I can’t take much more of this. My daughters’ bodies are not political footballs; they are their lives. I am more sick than I can express of the politicization of the health care of half of the population.

All of this, and more, is poison to the futures of young women. For every lesson their father and I teach them that they have as much value as any man, there are counter-lessons like these. They are being told that they need to be sexy, but not too sexy; independent, but not too independent; that they bring their problems on themselves; and that most of all, they are not to be trusted. These are not the family values I am trying to teach.

Imbolc Resolutions

Happy Imbolc!*


Imbolc is a strange holiday here in Alaska, because even though the light is starting to return (2 hours since the Winter Solstice!), there are no other signs of spring return, nor are there likely to be any anytime soon. Until last year, I never really acknowledged Imbolc as it didn’t seem to fit into my seasonal cycle.

Last year it occurred to me that Imbolc is the perfect time to make resolutions. By New Years I am still whirling from Christmas and usually planning two birthday parties. This puts me in no place for real reflection. By the beginning of February, I have had time, and darkness, and quiet enough to think about what I want to bring with me into the year. Imbolc is celebrated in honor of the Irish goddess Brigid, and her double emphasis on home & hearth, and creativity already make me think about what I want to be and do better.

Last year at Imbolc I decided I wanted to learn to do some things badly. I have a tendency to only want to things I am good at and avoid anything in which I might not excel. I did learn to both knit and run badly – badly enough to hurt myself even, but I found both learning experiences enjoyable, valuable, and freeing. Kicking off the expectation of excellence was uncomfortable at first, but it allowed me to explore interests in a new way, and opened up whole areas that I had always felt were off limits. I also learned to be a service lay leader this year, and I hope I am not doing it badly. It is really important to me that I do that one well, or move out of the way and let someone else do it better.

Here are three things I am focusing on this Imbolc.

1. Learning to do last year’s projects well. While I enjoyed the liberation I felt in learning those new skills, I want to get better at them rather than coasting. I also want to learn to do new things badly. I’m not sure what those things will be yet, but maybe when I am ready, a teacher will appear.

2. I want to write more without worrying about the readers’ reception. I spend way too much time second guessing what people think about what I write and not enough time writing. This might even fall under #1 as well.

3. 2012 will involve a lot of changes in my house. Tall Daughter E will be an adult this summer and she and I will need to find a new way of living together as two adult women. This might be a big learning curve. I am not sure how to do this, but she is important enough to me to figure it out. Tiny Daughter M will start middle school later this year and I will have no more small children. I need to learn how to parent through this transition.

Here is to more learning, writing, and adjusting in 2012. Check out the 7th annual online poetry festival for Brigid here. For those of you who celebrate, what does Imbolc bring to you?



*Patricia Kennealy Morrison referred to this holiday last night on Facebook as Brighnasa, as the counterpart to Lughnasa in August. I like it, and may use it in the future.

First Day of School

I am feeling a little emotional today. This morning I sent Tall Daughter E off to her first day of her senior year and I walked Tiny Daughter M to the school for her first day of 6th grade. Today feels like the beginning of an ending.

On the walk home by myself, I was sad until I realized I wasn't remotely being in the moment. My head was living in the future without them - where they don't need me anymore. I brought myself back to where I was, which was a beautiful, sunny, late summer morning on my way home to a day of solitary peace and quiet. Today they both hugged and kissed me and smiled. I have a whole year to still have both of my girls in my home and there is little to be gained spending that year worrying about its end.

Harry Potter, My Daughter, and Me

It may seem a little late to write about this, but well, see the previous post. I’d like to bid a fond farewell full of gratitude to Harry Potter and the rest of the Hogwarts gang. I actually took the day off from work to go see the final Harry Potter movie with Tall Daughter E on opening day and I am glad I did. I don’t know how she felt, but the whole event was tinged with bittersweetness (if that is a word). Some moments are heavy with all the other moments that led to them and this was one of them for me. At this point, either you are a Potter fan or you aren’t, so I am not going to write here about the movie itself. I loved it and wept like a baby. Either you cried your eyes out, or you don’t care; that’s fine.

Much has been written about the “Harry Potter Generation” and E falls right into this category. This series neatly brackets her childhood. I read the first book to her when she was in kindergarten on the advice of her teacher, and we watched the final film together on the verge of her senior year in high school. She and I have attended all eight HP movies together on the opening day. No one else in the family likes the series – no, I don’t know why not either. It is Our Thing.

So I was really emotional heading into this movie. I took the day off, made arrangements for Tiny Daughter M, and splurged on IMAX tickets. So. Worth. It. I was eager for this movie since I had loved the final HP book, but I was also just so grateful. Thanks to J.K. Rowling, E and I have this Thing to share. While we talk alike, we have really different interests and personalities. Ever since she took her first steps towards independence in school we have had this Thing to bond over. It is hard to find activities that we both want to do, but this was something we could share. This was not just a film for me, but the culmination of all of the moments we spent together reading, and watching, and wondering what would happen next.

So thank you Ms. Rowling for Hermione Granger, and Molly and Ginny Weasley. Thank you for Professors MacGonagall and Snape. Thank you for the last twelve years of magic.

Failure in UU Parenting

Tiny Daughter M: "Mom, can you come help me with my math homework?" Me: (In jest) "I can't. I can't do math anymore. I gave up math for Lent." Tiny Daughter M: Sigh "You're not even Jewish." File this under Doing Something Wrong.

The Impermanence of Parenting

I’ve been spending more time with Buddhism lately and it is affecting my parenting in a good way. Tall Daughter E will be graduating from high school and turning 18 in about a year in a half. This realization after the holidays started a panic beating in my chest. There is no way she is almost ready to be released out into the world as an adult. No. Way.

I am trying to take a step back and look at the impermanence of this stage of parenting. I do not feel remotely ready to be the parent of an adult; I can’t believe she is actually almost ready to be one. Unfortunately, me feeling ready and it actually occurring are unrelated ideas. No one is going to ask my opinion about the matter; it just is. So instead of railing against in inevitable, I am trying to savor and appreciate the time I have left with Tall E as my little girl. There are only so many more times she is going to hug and kiss me goodnight before she goes to bed. Only so many more times she will grumble as I ask her to help me with dinner. (That reminds me, I need to teach her to cook more different things.) The added side-effect of this is that is makes it easier to deal with raising a teenager. When I know that I don’t have that much longer to spend with her or to try to teach her my values it makes it easier to deal with things that, in the past, would drive me crazy. Why would I spend my remaining time with her being angry about small stuff?

Except when Tall E bickers with her little sister, the rhythm of our relationship has already changed in the last year or so. We relate and talk to each other differently than when she was a child and I can only imagine things will be even more different as she starts to lead her own life. I have been her favorite person for most of her life. She has always been bound to me in a way that I have sometimes found suffocating, but now I can’t imagine not having on a daily basis. It is hard to conceive of her not needing me. I have been raising Tall E almost my entire adult life so it is will real sadness that I view the end of actively parenting her, but that makes living with her all the more precious.

Big Deal OWL Registration

My husband and I have decided to sign up Tiny Daughter M for Our Whole Lives classes. This is a big deal. I was pleasantly surprised he went along with it as he dislikes “indoctrinating” our kids, but we both think the program will be good for her.

This is the first time any of my family members have gotten involved in anything UU related. I have assured Tiny Daughter that it is not like Sunday school and no one will be telling Bible stories and that was quite a relief to her. Still, I am kind of nervous. Neither of my girls have any interest in doing anything related to a church ever again and I am starting to look at the role I have played in that.

Both of my girls attended church regularly when they were little. I took them most Sundays to the Assembly of God church that I grew up in and my parents still attend. When I stopped going, I told them that church attendance was their decision; I was willing to drop them off at church, or not, as they pleased. I would not force them to go to church ever again. Neither one of them have the slightest interest in attending. At all. (OK, they do make an exception for the annual Christmas sleigh ride party.) Many people at AUUF have informed me about the wonderful RE program and how great it would be for my kids, but I have to respect their decision to stay home, even if I think they should give it a try before they dismiss it. This puzzles some people, but I cannot go back on my word to them. I cannot respect their search for meaning and coerce them at the same time.

This week I have been thinking about how my actions played a part in this. For years I hated going to church, but I went to please my mother. I was so stressed out and cranky by the time I got home on Sunday afternoons that the whole family experienced an improved quality of life when I stopped going. I never thought about how that affected them before. I am sure that watching their mother grit her teeth and endure something did not instill in them a desire to participate. I felt so alienated from my true self there, but I didn’t know that they could see it as small children. Looking back, it is kind of stupid to think that they could not. I am not beating myself up about this; I just want to look at the situation and understand it.

I have always found religion to be fascinating. Even as a non-theist, I worry that the girls are missing out on a fundamental aspect of human nature. You don’t have to be a theist to understand about religions and the role they play in human societies. Something like 90% of people in the world believe in some type of divinity and I don’t want to leave the girls ignorant about that aspect of humanity, but in no way do I want to force any sort of religion on them. They remain fantastically uninterested in any of it.

Still, this OWL registration is a big deal. Tiny Daughter M was reassured to know that next year, a high school level class will be offered and Tall Daughter E will not escape her turn.

No Memory of Peacetime

Yesterday I realized that my 10 year old daughter has no memory of the United States not being at war. No experience with prosperous peacetime at all. That is really sad.

She doesn’t know what this war is all about or why we are fighting it. She doesn’t know anyone who had to fight in it. It is just an abstract notion to her. American soldiers killing and being killed in foreign lands for some unknown reason is just normal to her.

That shouldn’t be normal.

Sweet 16 for Midsummer Girl

Yesterday Big Daughter E turned 16. As I’ve mentioned before, I have been raising her almost my entire adult life. My sense of being a grown up is wrapped up in caring for her and now she is almost grown. I am a little overwhelmed.

E and I talk the same way and have some behavior similarities, but emotionally we are such totally different creatures. This does not enhance communication between a teenager and her mother. She drives me crazy. Just crazy. I have no idea how she is going to fend for herself in the real world in a couple of years.

But here’s the thing, she loves fiercely. She loves with a devotion like that of my mother who is the most nurturing person I have ever known. E has loved me every day of her life and I have never doubted that. I fear for the day when someone breaks her heart because that is going to be ugly. I named her for a woman of power and I hope she carries that strength throughout her life. She is so secure in herself and impervious to peer pressure. This makes it hard for her parents to influence her as well, but she is so confident in her own self and doesn't look for outside superficial validation. Whatever her life may hold for her, I know that she will find her own way.

16 is an exciting and scary age to be. I just hope we both make it through it.

Two More Years

Two short years. While taking a walk with my girls last night I realized that two years is all I have left until everything changes. In two years Big Daughter E will be out of high school and turning 18, and Tiny Daughter M will be done with elementary school and heading into the hormonal morass of middle school.

Due to some less than stellar planning, I have been parenting E almost as long as I have been an adult. Two years from this month, she will be a grown woman making her own way in the world. Even if she continues to live at home I won’t be actively parenting her the same way anymore. In two years my baby will be almost a teenager and not a baby anymore. The small children stage of parenting will be over and I will become increasingly annoying and stupid to her. That’s it. That’s all I have left.

I need to slow down and cherish these next two years. After that, we will be playing a whole new ballgame that I am not ready for yet. Gretchen Rubin frequently quotes, “the days are long, but the years are short” and I am hearing that message loud and clear today. Slow down and be mindful of this time I have left to raise my girls together. Stop taking their time and attention for granted. Pay attention. Just two more years.

Athena's Messenger Bag

I don't really share my pagan practices with my children, much. We sometime talk about myths or about different ways to think about spirituality, but I pretty much leave them out of most of it.

Having said that...

We recently bought Tiny Daughter M a new lunch box. School starts a little early here so we are starting to get ready. It is shaped like a tiny messenger bag covered with owls, her favorite bird, all in her favorite color. She is so in love with it that she wears it all over the house. Because of its shape and pattern, The Husband declared that she was "Athena's Messenger". After reminder her who Athena is, she really liked the title. She now declares that it is her Athena's Messenger Bag. At least until it starts hauling food to school.

Nothing about this encounter was especially deep, but I just really liked the idea of spreading wisdom. Maybe I just like it when the girls like things that I like and I have always resonated with Athena. My daughters have certainly helped me to become wiser. I like the goal: to become Athena's messenger maybe just even to myself.

Jonesing For Harry, and Hermoine, and Dumbledore, and the Weasleys...

I still have six hours to go and I can't wait to see the new Harry Potter movie tonight. Daughter E and I have gone to each of the HP movies either on the opening weekend or opening day if it starts on a Wednesday. It's our tradition and I'm excited.

I've been jonesing to re-read the last two books, but I am about to finally finish the Dune series so I have to finish Chapterhouse Dune first.

I'm sure I'll have more to say later, either celebration and glee or scorn and dissappointment, but for now I'm just counting down the hours. I shall leave you with this: Hermoine rocks!

A Great Problem to Have

Folks, I am worn out. Tiny Daughter M is so excited to be mobile again, she will not slow down. The weather has been wonderful so there is no excuse not to go outside. In the past week I have been for walks, bike rides, played pick up soccer games, gone bird watching just outside town, picnicked in the park, gone to the outdoor market, danced, and begged for mercy and a few minutes to sit and rest.

I am so tremendously grateful for her recovery and that gratitude is the only thing getting me through this weekend. I'm tired. She wants to go swimming and skating this week so we'll see what we fit in.

Still, there are lots worse problems to have

Too Much Joy to Be Angry Today

I just watched my daughter run down the street.

I'm trying not to cry again as I write that as I wasn't sure I would ever get to see that again. I was all set to write an angry post about the murder of Dr. Tiller in a church of all places, but there is no place in my heart to hold anger right now. I just watched my baby girl run down the street.

We took Tiny Daughter M to a new specialist today who recommended a totally different course of treatment. I was more than a little skeptical when he said that her neurology had healed and was normal, she just didn't know it yet. She didn't look like her condition had healed. Only three weeks ago her mobility had a major setback when she went off of the steroids. She still can't walk right without assistance so it never occurred to me to tell her to run. Baby girl can run. The new doctor wants to discontinue her physical therapy and make her run as much as possible, including the soccer team she has wanted to join so very badly. He said the magic words to me today. He said, "these always get better. It may take up to 18 months, but they always get better." No one had been able to tell me that before today. I was scared to believe him and get all of our hopes up, but it was such a relief to talk to someone who seemed to know what was going on and who could offer hope.

The doctor and I colluded to bribe her with getting her ears pierced once she can walk normally at full speed again. She is much more motivated with a goal and we need her mind to catch up with her brain. She was able to touch her toes this evening, which had been impossible even two weeks due to both balance and flexibility. (Sorry, I was drawn away for some impromptu jump roping in the living room. Most exciting jump rope event ever!)

Going into today's appointment, I was 75% focused on how to fix the Tiny Daughter and about 25% thinking about how, as a family, we would cope with having a disabled daughter. How would we make sure her life was still rich and full and unlimited? Today is the first time in about a month that I have felt that she is really going to be OK. She made fun of me for crying as she ran back hope, but that's OK, too.

Tiny Daughter M is on fire tonight. She is so excited to be able to really play and run and to enjoy moving her body. She is not 100% there, but the look of joy on her face as she ran back and forth down the street tonight was the most beautiful thing I have seen in a long time. The world is still an imperfect and frustrating place full of inexplicable evils and sorrow, but tonight I watched my daughter run down the street tonight, and that's enough.

Bonding with Buffy

Daughter E and I will be bonding over Buffy the Vampire Slayer this afternoon. Tiny Daughter M is going to a sleepover and the big girl and I try to watch Buffy whenever she is away.

There have been many things, from Alice In Wonderland to Star Trek that I just couldn't wait to introduce to my children. I imagined how much they would love discovering these fictional worlds that meant so much to me and helped to shape who I am. Predictably, she has rejected almost all of them. The child doesn't even like science-fiction! How could I have a child with no interest in sci-fi at all? Instead she invests her attention in anime, etc. This was both shocking and disappointing to me.

I am a Buffy fanatic. Without much hope, I invited Daughter E to watch it with me last year. Dear readers, she loves it! We finally have a geek universe to share. It may be a small thing, but it's one thing we agree upon and share. I am looking forward to watching her experience all of the Slayer's adventures for the first time.

New Treatment

We have finally started a new course of treatment for Tiny Daughter M. We are putting her on steroids and I am not thrilled, but at least we are actively doing something to try to make her better.

She currently has two specialists who disagree about what she has and how to treat it. Thankfully, we have ruled out anything life threatening, but one doctor has concerns that this might be a long-term problem. The other one thinks that if we leave her alone she will get better by herself, but that trying the steroids won't hurt. The lack of agreement is not encouraging to say the least. Every medical professional we have seen has told us how unusual her case is. Also, not encouraging.

A friend recommended today that we take her to Seattle to the children's hospital down there. I don't mean to panic, but it is starting to sound tempting. We will give this treatment a shot first and I know S, my wonderful husband will keep me from panicking too much. Thankfully, my boss has been totally great about the time I've have to take off for all of her appointments. I don't know how I would deal with all of this if I has to worry about losing my job, too.

It encouraged me that she has been such a little trooper about everything. She doesn't whine or complain about not being able to get around very well. She just looks for other ways to do what she wants and enjoys what she can do. She is a very good role model for her mother.

MRI, Take II

I am on the way to take Tiny Daughter M to her second MRI. Neither one of us is excited about this. It is times like this that I miss believing in God. I don't believe in petitionary prayers, but it would be nice to feel like I could do something. All I get to do is hold onto her foot while she slides into the big, noisy, scary tube and wish I could take her place.

In good news, she had her first physical therapy appointment and she really liked it. Now she is looking forward to Tuesday mornings.