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Showing posts from September, 2014

The Battle for Independence

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I love history and always have.  I see the truth in the adage about repeating it if we are not familiar with it playing out over and over.  One of the things in history that I have read a lot about are struggles for independence.  The power in charge being fought for equal voices at the table when making decisions - the break from a monarchy  - the break from dictatorship even if it is benevolent.

However, I did not expect to be living through my own 1789 Vive Le Difference, 1917 Soviet style proletariat uprising in my own home so soon.  I understood that my reign, benevolent dictatorship to them and Royal Queen to me, would have it's challenges from my two sons but you know 1789 and 1917 and 1776 all happened hundreds of years after being under these reigns which in human household years roughly translates to teenage years.  Before you get ready to call Child Services, you know once in a while I could use an office called Mommy Offices that comes in and I don't know gives me …

Captain oh captain

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I like to start my blogs with facts, imagine if reporters put that in their stories a little background on how they feel so you know what the story will be like.  So here are some facts I find baseball boring for the most part, live or on tv.  There are moments that are exciting but overall snoozer for this girl.  Ironically though I have been to a lot of ballparks, I enjoy the history or architecture of some (Fenway, Wrigley Field, Camden Yards, Yankee stadium old and new) and wonder at the pure ugliness of others (the old Expos stadium in Montreal, the Oakland Raider park which was so hideous the name eludes me).  I like the whole camaraderie of it (and those hot dogs at Wrigley Field this girl can chow down).  I am beyond annoyed at current ticket prices because to me this game is working class family time and it has been robbed from them, first with the games moving to cable from tv and then with these exorbitant ticket prices.  
I also have enjoyed a lot of baseball themed movies,…

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman

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Really Tammy "sometimes it's hard to be a woman" ?  Umm am thinking it is mostly hard to be one but I wouldn't change being one for anything.

I read a book about empowered women and how women need to be comfortable with ambition, go for things they may be only partially qualified for and not feel as if doing that they are asking to "have it all" perfectly it would stick.  Then I get to work and within the first 30 minutes at work instead of saying "Sure that's a great opportunity" to a comment made that I should lead a project I say "umm yeah sure okay if no one else wants to do it"  Really ??? I almost slapped myself - what does that say "if there is no one else who finds this a worthwhile project and you need to scrape the bottom of the barrel well then I'm your choice".  As a mom instead of thinking I do all I can for my boys even while I work outside the home full time with commute time added in I say "Oh I wi…

The Blame Game

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I have, along with many, seen the recently released video of a football player hitting his girlfriend, knocking her out and then dragging her out of the elevator.  I wince when I see it every time.  Yet our dialogue on this has been "should he be allowed after a X number of game suspension instead of the firing he got" "there are others who have done as bad if not worse" and many other statements about him.  Those about her have been anywhere from the insensitive "she seems out of control prior ..." to the usual "but she married him the next day".

I did not mention him by name on purpose, publicity is good even when it is negative and I am not here to give him any.  This is about her and all the other victims of domestic violence and violence against women.  There are men and boys who suffer from partner abuse but this blog is about women and girls only.  Not to marginalize the others but men have a powerful voice that is often heard women and w…

Nowhere near the finish line

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My younger did not 1) like playing sports except for kickball and handball which outside of urban areas am not sure either is even frequently played 2) did not care that I did not like sports and 3) did what I had to (pain, fake asthma with Primetene mist, lots of menstrual cramps) do my Oscar worthy performances to get out of gym.  I did not like high school gym in particular - I went to a school with a dress code and there is nothing appealing about taking off a white button down shirt, stockings and having to do them back while maintaining make up in place and hair not looking like a Brillo had decided to make it it's poster child.  I also had no desire to hit the soccer ball with my head, pretend that the mere fact that I shared an ethnicity with Nadia Comanici meant I had any interest in hanging from uneven bars, walking on a toothpick sized, high off the ground wooden beam and jump (say whaa?), tumble (see Brillo hair comment) or let's see maim myself jumping over some …

School's in Session

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I packed up my kids backpacks last night with all the supplies that they were required to get - seemed like a lot for elementary age children and in some ways so different then my supply lists.  

I actually like buying school supplies, always did.  I like the smell and the crack of a new marble notebook, wish they had the variety of colors they have now when I was a kid.  These composition notebooks always remind me of English classes, which I loved, and of journal keeping which was my therapy, memory keeper and at times even the version of text that we had before cell phones were an option.  I used to love those denim bound 3 ring binders that I could draw on - bubble letters, the bands I liked Led Zep's ZOFO sign comes to mind.  I also have always loved a good pen.  Some of these have carried with me as an adult - I buy my own notebooks for work and they are rarely the conventional kind, I do not write in black ink if possible and a good blue, not fine point, pen of any kind is s…