Hell

Dante and Milton have made egregious miscalculations in their assessments of hell in the form of a very obvious omission. Dante's circles are incomplete as such, as is Milton's burning, sulfurous terrain.
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Rich and I, in the middle of enduring a very long "staycation" in our house over spring break, looked at each other, exasperated. In that raspy, "I see dead people" voice, the one only used in the face of some supernatural terror, he whispered, hardly audible,"Dear God. We have a toddler.."
"How in the hell did this happen?" I responded in the same hissy tenor.

And then we both started sobbing.

Earlier, I was horrified to find banana smeared all over the keyboard and screen of my laptop. I turned to Rich and began to complain, when I remembered that earlier that day, Toddler Jack had taken a crayon to Rich's. Unfortunately, it was too late. The statement was out. That's when we broke and started remembering all of the mischief that took place that day related to the actions of our almost-two-year-old Jack. The statements came rapid fire and generally began with "And then he...", "And then.." In the interest of brevity, here is that frantic exchange, ordered more cogently than the original and in a bullet point list (because it's alot):

* Computers - one artistically adorned, the medium being crayon, the other glazed in a sticky fruit compote.

* Shoes firmly planted.. in the flower pots...in the house.

* Items put away (somewhere) for the future:
- One half-eaten jelly bean
- One hairbrush (Daddy's)
- Ten pairs of socks (his)

*Items put in the trash (that were thankfully recovered):
- A check in the amount of $13.50
- A lovely necklace and one earring
- One copy of Alice in Wonderland
- One television remote
- One book of Christmas postage stamps
- One pair of glasses

* Bathtub - One toy boat played with in bath, the same boat that needed to be bailed out, as did apparently the bathtub itself.

* Climbing Practice (freestyle):
- On top of the dinning table
- On top of the bar stools
- On top of a dresser, using the back of a couch as a spring board

* Number of fits thrown: 5, not including diaper changing ones

* Number of diaper changes: 5

* Number of time-outs: 1, including fit

*Number of headache pills taken by parents as a result of fits: 4 (2 ea)

* Number of glasses of wine consumed: 4 (2 ea and counting)

* Percentage of patience lost by parents: 99.9% (.1% away from total breakdown)

And we're really good, attentive parents! I can't imagine the catastrophe that must happen in homes where parents aren't as attentive, or in homes where, and I shudder to say it, more than one toddler resides!
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Dante and Milton clearly never spent very much time with an almost two-year-old kid. Surely, they would've considered them when writing their epics..

(Though all of the items on this list did actually take place in one day, I have to say that I have the best kiddo in the world! He's smart and sweet and wonderful... which is why we can endure the storm and which is why all of our spare change is going to the local vineyards.)

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Hell, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

New word of the day:

Pissapointed: adjective (though can also be used as a verb or noun (pissapointment): defeated in expectation or hope while feeling, at the same time, angry and/or irritated. eg. He forgot to pick up the kids at school leaving them waiting by themselves for hours. This made her feel severly pissapointed.

(Thanks for this Christine!)

Object(s) of Desire

Speaking of Anais Nin.. For a while I've been hoping to introduce myself to her writing, knowing that it would be a bit of a scandal. Probably it's not something I should mention in this space, except to say that she is part of my Womanifesto. I can say that I felt some guilt at being offered the teacher discount for her book at the check-out counter. Obviously, the clerk doesn't know about Anais Nin or about the section of the store I snuck to to quickly peruse the authors; he didn't recognize my excitement in the form of a knowing smirk at finding Delta of Venus or my hurry to get to the counter.



Or maybe he did know. Maybe that's why he offered the discount.. Anyway, I'm reading her now. She's wonderful!


"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage. "
-Anais Nin

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Object(s) of Desire, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Kids are the fourth pillar and are, ironically, not a part of this cartoon.

The Opposite Sex: Wratch

I am unbelievably lucky that I have the partner that I do. His name, if you didn't know, is Rich. He's pretty much the most lovely person on the planet. I adore him.

Rich and I met in college. Actually, sometime during the first week of my college career, between orientation and my first exam, I saw him across the room. In a millisecond I knew that I would marry him. Seriously. You can stop gagging. It's true. A "voice" we shall call "intuition" whispered it in my ear. Instead of the pronouncement garnering that warm mushy feeling reserved for the beginnings of Nicholas Sparks books (the endings reaping a different emotion), mine was more akin to what it feels like when one's stomach drops at the first intonation of a tornado siren. Panic. I ran home and called Jen (who will confirm my account), and said, "Jen, guess what!? I just saw the person I'm going to marry!"

She, the ever-calm and rational presence, asked, "What's his name? Tell me about him."

"Uh. I don't know. I haven't actually talked to him, yet.."

And that was the beginning. It only took a month for me to collect myself and actually talk to him. Er.. really, it only took me a month to: find the perfect event, a street dance in this case (yes, darlings, it was the 90's), put together the perfect granola/attractive outfit to draw his attention, practice possible conversation openers with my roommate, and steel myself for the first words that would essentially begin what I was sure would be, "the first day of the rest of my life."

Melodramatic? Yes.

A true assessment? Also yes.

Obviously at that time I did not know the sheer impact of that first meeting, the extent to which knowing Rich - growing up with him, traveling the world with him, being a co-parent with him - would truly change my world for the better.

I suppose I could list traits and actions that describe why Rich exemplifies the perfect version of the opposite sex for me. Probably that is too much for a less than sappy blog post. What I will say is that Rich is the most considerate person on the planet. His love is unconditional, his patience infinite, his kindness apparent. He's reason to my manic. He's stability to my chaos. In short, he's both my opposite and my compliment and I am a lucky, lucky girl.

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (The Opposite Sex, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Time Travel

If I could travel back or forward in time, where would I stop and why? It's a great question. I remember answering this question a few times before. When I was an innocent little girl, I said that I would like to meet Jesus. He and I were cool back then, and I imagined sitting among the other little children in his lap and around his feet in all of those cartoon images I studied in Sunday School. Later, as a snarky (but still innocent for the most part) teenager, I gave the same answer: That I would want to go back in time and meet Jesus, but for a different reason. This time it would be to experience him as a real person, and not just an untouchable figure head. I wanted to experience his wisdom and his gentleness.

Now, if I were to answer the same, and I'm not sure I would, I think I'd want to see Jesus to blatantly ask, "What the hell? Seriously. Because if this is what you were meant to represent, then stay out of Gethsemane. People are really going to screw this up and maybe it would be better to not be the human sacrifice." (sigh)

I mean that in the most reverent way possible.

Probably, though, I'd rather not travel so far back. Things happen, and just as we need our own faults to become the people we are, we need history to help define who we are. And anyway, there are too many atrocities to try and prevent to pick just one. Conversely, the future is too scary to navigate. That leaves me here - in this time and in this place. If I hope to move anywhere it is forward to when I'm finished grading the billions of compositions in my inbox. Relief won't truly come until June, a hazard of the job. Until then, I trudge along.. seemingly in slow motion.

This post was inspired by the Loose Bloggers Consortium, a small and feisty(!) global community. We write weekly on a common topic (Time Travel, this week) and post responses - all of us together, simultaneously, from all over the world. (Lovely!) Please visit Anu, Ashok, Conrad, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria and Ramana for other wonderful posts.

Women International - March 8th

Dear Friends,

A hundred years ago, a group of women got together and decided we needed a day to celebrate women globally, regardless of our marital status, our ability or inability to have children, regardless of who we are in age, color, or where we come from. In countries like Bosnia and Herzegovina, every man and boy gives a flower to each woman and girl on International Women’s Day.

We all have envisioned a day where women will speak out and speak up, to break their silence and demand peace, justice, and more equality in this world. A hundred years have gone by and women have accomplished a lot in legal protection, political and economic representation, education, and so many other areas. But the road to full equality for women is still long, and our vision of justice and sustainable, full peace in our lives has yet to come.



On behalf of our sisters who are meeting on March 8 in Rwanda and the DR Congo, our sisters who are meeting in Bosnia and Kosovo, our sisters who are meeting in London and Sydney, and our sisters in over 50 cities, I am asking all of you to join me, Women for Women International, and women around the world on a bridge on that day. I ask that we, women from all over, consciously take the time out of the working day and our personal life to celebrate International Women’s Day.

It is a time where we will join the drumming beats of drummers, our own drums, and our own heartbeats. A time where we can march, tie our fabrics together, celebrate who we are and what we have given to our families and societies, and more than that, demand an immediate peace and an end to all the wars that are going on in our lifetime and are destroying many lives.

Women need to stand and speak up because:
* 80% of the women in Bosnia and Herzegovina are unemployed when they enroll in our program
* 75% of war casualties are women and children
* Women produce 50% of the world’s food and only own 1% of the property
* 82% of the women in our Afghanistan program are illiterate
* 70% of the women in our DR Congo program have had their village attacked

These statistics show women are disproportionally marginalized in the world. It is time to change that. It is time to speak out. It is time to break our silence. It is time to demand peace and justice. It is time to join on the bridge.
Please join us. I know I will be at the Brooklyn Bridge at 12:00 pm on March 8th. Bring your drums. Bring your fabric. Bring your dreams.

Let us make that day a day the time to celebrate our womanhood, our voices, our contribution to society.

For more information on all of the bridge meetings around the world, please visit www.womenforwomen.org/bridge.

In sisterhood,

Zainab Salbi

Founder and CEOWomen for Women International