Here’s October. It’s taken a while to get this uploaded.
Here’s October. It’s taken a while to get this uploaded.
reading Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.
knowing it would be so much better live, or in a fully written book.
wishing I could fly to London with tickets to the play in my hand.
listening to my Autumn Playlist on Spotify.
feeling nostalgic, which is apparently my Autumn mood.
wanting to be more creative, more consistently.
cutting all the felt into all the shapes and letters.
preparing to sell felt things at a bazaar next month.
watching all the Friends reruns on Netflix.
getting excited for Halloween.
looking forward to November, when I practice 30 Days of Gratitude.
thinking that I might start a few days early.
feeling like we all need more gratitude in our lives right now.
imploring that we can just vote early and get this shit-show over with.
reading and watching way too much about the election.
fearing the worst.
hoping for the best.
enjoying the colorful days and dark nights.
stopping to watch the leaves.
choosing to see the beauty.
reminding myself that playing with the kids is what I should be doing.
8:23 – I want to remember these girls and the cuddles in the mornings. Now that they share a room, it’s more likely that they will stay in their beds, or at least their room, and chat and play before they come into our room. We do all, usually, end up in bed together for a few minutes.
8:47 – I want to remember how the girls love to play with new things. They made this goo the night before at a Science Fair at the university and were really excited to play with it first thing in the morning.
8:56 – I want to remember this view, with the gorgeous yellow birch, the flaming red dogwood, the landscaping growing up and getting bigger. The junky car that’s been parked across the street for a few months, I’m happy to forget that, if only it would go away.
9:03 – I want to remember how great it feels to wake up to a mostly clean kitchen. I never want to do it at night, but it’s always worth it in the morning.
9:08 – I want to remember these autumn breakfasts. Oatmeal with frozen blueberries for them, tea with orange oil for me.
9:14 – I want to remember how Harriet says “hot cococo” for hot chocolate. I don’t want to remember how she threw a huge fit because I gave it to her in the wrong cup – I’ll just choose to remember that she eventually accepted the cococo in the Santa mug (the one she usually wants).
9:25 – I want to remember that this was not a normal day for us. My To Do List isn’t usually a bunch of chores around the house. We usually actually leave the house. I don’t usually spend the entire day cleaning the house. I do want to remember how good it feels to clean up our messes and be able to have such a wonderful home to take care of. I also want to remember how using the essential oils to clean the house makes it all so much more fun.
9:48 – I want to remember how the girls are actually eager to help me these days. Harriet loves to help me cook dinner. Alma likes to help with the dishes, dusting, and sweeping. I’m working on giving them daily and weekly chores.
9:52 – I want to remember these eggs and these chickens. I love that my chores include getting eggs, taking out food scraps, and giving them water.
10:07 – I want to remember the corner of our kitchen where things build up. Art projects from school, mail that needs attention, empty shoe boxes. These are the things that show our busy existence. I especially love when this corner of our kitchen gets sorted and put where it all goes. That was my job this day.
10:12 – I want to remember how these girls play together. They use their imaginations and really work well together. They used these boxes as houses, horse stalls, tunnels, who knows what else. I also want to remember Harriet’s love for her new boots and her tutu.
10:25 – I want to remember the imaginations in these girls. They had a full conversation between these two candlesticks.
10:31 – I want to remember these candlelit meals and snacks. Candles, while eating, are pure magic.
10:49 – I want to remember the love and care that goes into keeping a house. These wood floors shine thanks to me and my care for them. And essential oils.
11:56 – I want to remember these plates and the little hands that made them. I want to remember these peanut butter sandwiches – honey for Harriet, homemade strawberry jam for me and Alma.
12:59 – I want to remember all the sewing. I haven’t sewn in a couple months, so it feels great to get back to it. I finished Alma’s witch dress, fixed my sweater, and got started on Harriet’s much needed big bed quilt. I love giving my girls quilts so they can always be wrapped up in my love – and a tangible representation of that love.
2:03 – I want to remember how much I love Christmas and how much I love making good things for our family. These blend perfectly when I use Christmas Spirit oil (Orange, Cinnamon, Spruce) in my homemade hand soap.
3:13 – I want to remember how Harriet is the queen of the pout. She will sit down and pout, or just stand in the middle of the room and pout. Here, Alma is her horse who ran away. The pout went away once the horse came back.
3:20 – I want to remember these colors and snacks. Pink and honey for Harriet. Blue and jam for Alma.
3:52 – I want to remember these slow, cloudy days when I don’t get around to taking my shower until well into the afternoon. And my old Cal Young tie dye t-shirt that I use for my hair after my showers.
4:15 – I want to remember these days of forts, and make believe, and reading corners.
5:31 – I want to remember how our friends came over, bringing us a fake Christmas gift for an upcoming music video, and how it was fun to wish them Merry Christmas in October. I also want to remember how they all came inside and hung around for a little bit. Surprise guests and good conversations fill my bucket in a big way. Even if I forget to take any photos. Especially when I forget to take any photos.
6:11 – I want to remember this season and the comfort food that it brings. This was a baked potato bar, using lots of things we happened to have on hand.
6:18 – I want to remember “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest; let this food to us be blessed. Amen,” and how Alma and Harriet say “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest; let this family to us be blessed. Allmen.”
6:49 – I want to remember the chaos that falls at bedtime. It is a constant battle to get them going in the right direction to get their teeth brushed, jammies on, and everything else that needs to be done when there are so many other things that they’d rather be doing.
7:03 – I want to remember the calm that settles when we’re all in our bed, reading a story before they head to their own beds. A few final cuddles and they race to their room.
7:04 – I want to remember how the girls need just a little bit more chaos before they can settle into their beds and eventually fall asleep.
I want to remember the time that Jesse and I get after the kids are in bed. We watch shows, get stuff done, clean up a little, read books, and eventually fall asleep ourselves.
Did September fly by for everyone or was that just me? Seriously, it feels like I blinked and it was over. I’m not complaining because October is my favorite, but you know. The days are long and the years are short and the months are shorter.
Sometimes, when you go camping in the forest, the fairies find you. I mean, this probably usually happens, but sometimes you see the evidence.
During our camping trip, the girls found beaded necklaces hanging in a tree by the fairy log. As Alma put it, “This is AMAZING!”
Alma and Harriet wrote them a thank you note and let them know about our fairy door. Lately Alma’s been pretty sad that the fairies have never visited us in the door. I suggested that maybe the fairies just didn’t know about the door. Alma had me write our address and that they should fly safely since it’s a long trip from Wind River.
During our trip, Alma lost her necklace in the rocks. Luckily when we got home, the fairies had been there. They left a note thanking Alma and Harriet for telling them about the fairy door and even returned Alma’s lost necklace.
There’s always time for a little bit of magic, right?
I’m finally getting around to uploading June In Seconds. Here it is!
Rape Fallacy #1: Alcohol causes rape.
False. Obviously. Here’s my anecdotal evidence. I have been drunk. I have been around drunk men whilst being drunk. I have never been raped. I understand that this is untrue for many people, but this is my story.
We cannot blame alcohol for rape. We just can’t do it. Sure, sometimes people make horrible, terrible, life-changing decisions when they are drunk, that is true. Lately, the conversation has been taking things to the extreme. It feels like this is what I’m reading in the media: Men can’t control themselves when they are drunk. Men will rape and assault women when they are drunk. Men can’t be held responsible for things they do when they’re drunk because they’re drunk. What?
If I were a man, I would be outraged by this notion. I would be angry and fighting the media on this. Do we really believe that men are so weak and powerless that they can’t control themselves at all? What kind of a message is this sending to our children? To our sons, we’re saying two things – 1. don’t ever drink because if you do, you’ll probably rape someone. 2. it’s okay if you rape someone, just be sure you’re drunk when you do it.
The idea that this is just something that everyone does at parties isn’t a defense. It’s an excuse, and a horrible one. And it’s entirely untrue. I know that this behavior is pervasive, but I refuse to believe that every single man has assaulted a woman, and that every single boy will grow up to assault a woman. We can’t teach our children that this is the case. We have to teach our children that they can be better than this, and that they should expect better than this.
Rape Fallacy #2: Alcohol invites people to rape you.
Do I really even need to write about this? It is so obviously untrue and unfair and absurd. When a woman is so drunk that she can’t agree enthusiastically to having sex, the people in her company refrain from having sex with her. Period. End of discussion.
In fact, nothing invites rape. Nothing at all. There is no such thing as non-consentual sex because, that, by definition, is rape. If someone is inviting sexual contact, then it is just sex. We need to erase the terms ‘consensual sex’ and ‘non-consentual sex’ from our vocabularies and replace them with the terms ‘sex’ and ‘rape’ because that more accurately describes what it means to invite sex and to be assaulted.
Rape Fallacy #3: Kids are too young to hear about consent.
No, I am not telling my 2 and 4 year olds about what’s in the news and all over my Facebook feed. They don’t need to hear about that. It won’t help them.
Yes, I am teaching them about consent and good choices. Since birth, we have been teaching our girls about consent. When I am playing with my kids and tickling them, the moment they say “no” or “stop,” I stop. When my kids are playing together and one of them says “no” or “stop,” I make sure that the other kid stops. If they are doing something to me that I don’t like, even if it’s just poking my arm, or grabbing my belly, or climbing into my lap at a bad time, and I ask them to stop, I say, “This is my body and I don’t like what you’re doing to it. You need to stop. You need to respect my body.” I use the word consent. I use the word respect. I am clear and firm. I tell them to respect each other’s bodies, and to respect my body, and to respect their own body.
I have friends who have sons who are doing them same thing, and I appreciate it more than I can even express. I know little boys who know the word consent and understand what it means.
If we wait to teach our kids about consent until puberty, or high school, or when we drop them off at college, it will be too late. It has to be something that is ingrained in them from birth. It has to be second nature. For both boys and girls.
Rape Fallacy #4: Privilege has nothing to do with this.
If this rapist were black, or Latino, or anything other than white, he would be spending much more time in prison. We wouldn’t have seen his smiling, successful photos all over the internet – we would have seen his mugshot within hours of his arrest, or other photos of him that represent him as a ‘thug’ or some other derogatory term. The conversations would be different – the media wouldn’t even care what his friends and family had to say about him, the media would be digging up dirt, not presenting excuses.
If this rapist wasn’t wealthy, his lawyers would have presented the evidence (actual evidence) that would have told a very different story than the one that was presented. If he, and the judge, hadn’t both been Stanford students, the punishment would have been different. If the rapist hadn’t been a golden boy with a bright future, the judge wouldn’t have been as worried about ruining that future.
Do I even need to say anything about male privilege? The whole rape culture is built on and sustained by male privilege.
Truth: I refuse to raise my daughters in a world where their physical and emotional wellbeing can easily be thrown away – literally and figuratively – behind a dumpster.
Let’s change it.