The other day I heard a commercial on the radio about some fund raising kind of thing for, I assumed, single moms. Now sure, there are people out there who get into some pretty bad situations and they need help. I'm all for that. But what popped in my head was... well, all kinds of not nice things about not nice girls and girls that just aren't smart. One of my good friends in high school got pregnant our senior year. Our counselor bent over backwards to help my friend graduate (over looking the fact that she'd pretty much missed our junior year to go out with her boyfriend, thus getting pregnant- they didn't use protection because she had the notion that she didn't know if she could get pregnant!). Because she was a single mother, she had help with school post high school and received all kinds of goodies for the baby through sub for santa with the state, and even now when we have get togethers, she provides all the food because she gets so much money in food stamps she can't use it all. Another friend recently told me about her friend who was randomly selected by the government after he got fired to go to school anywhere he wants for free (I don't know all the ins and outs and is that really true of this claim).
I know it's mean of me, but these things make me want to scream and cry. My hubby and I aren't putting off having kids because of money, but money is a big concern for me. I worry almost everyday about when we want to have kids because of the money issue. Nobody's paying him to go to school and even though he's only done a year, we have a HUGE student loan already to be paid off. And no one is paying me to get pregnant and stay home with my babies.
One time when I was going through a hard time, my sister suggested distracting myself by thinking of all the things I'd do if I had a million dollars. In an effort to be more positive, that's what I started thinking about with this. I think if I had a million dollars I would have a mommy scholarship fund. I would pay women to stay home and take care of their kids. I think one criteria would be that she would have to have a college degree and be involved in some way in a church. I guess that leaves out people who marry young and the mom stays home with the babies rather than go to college, I don't think that's a bad thing. Maybe if the dad was in school or had a degree, I'd make an exception in that case. Hm, do you realize that even in my little fantasies I'm trying not to hurt anyone's feelings? Duh. So, if I had all the money in the world...
JoAnna's Mommy Grant:
Award: $2000/month to a woman with at least an associates degree and some work experience. Must submit an essay about yourself and where you've been and why it's important to you to stay home with your baby. Award will continue from birth of first child until your third child is in fourth grade as long as you have children under the age of ten. (By then, Dad should have a pretty good job and maybe mom can take up some part time something or other).
Perhaps I should administer a test to the recipient each year to make sure she's not dumb and/or lazy and just taking my money. It needs to be someone smart who continues to better herself and her children- not just lay around on the couch yelling at the kids and eating snacks all day. Award and continuation are left to my sole discretion. There'd also have to be a way of monitoring how these people are living- if they have money to spend on cars and extravagances, they probably don't need my help. I guess it would have to be somewhat need based. So, include in your essay what debts you have and why and explain your views on money, budgets, and where you buy your clothes. How many pairs of shoes do you have?
Well, I'm just letting my mind wander. It's kinda a fun way to think about what I think.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Reviewing life and movies
Saturday I watched two movies. The first, Premonition, was a suspense drama. I found the suspense part of it to be a bit annoying. At first it was like "we'll be suspenseful and unexpected by not letting the audience in on anything we're doing." Seriously, I had no idea what was going on. Then all of a sudden I figured it out. I thought it was a bit obvious and then felt annoyed that it took the character so long to figure it out. (I think I had biased feelings going into it. Jeff's dad and sister argued about it the last time we saw them. His dad thought it was dumb and a girlie movie where his sister and her mom thought it was great and watched it twice to figure it all out. Of course Jeff had to side with his dad and refused to even watch it with me). The end, or the final climax, was also upsetting. You know me and happy endings. But the actual end of the movie, moral of the story was pretty good. I even cried.
The second movie I watched was High School Musical on the Disney channel. It was exactly that- a musical about high school. It was full of impossibly happy coincidences, kids being kids but then learning their lesson and all pulling together, and in the end (don't let me ruin it for you) the main characters not only land the lead in the school musical, they also win the academic decathlon AND the basketball championship AND resolve things with their rivals. So happy that there's even a sequel coming out for it. Yay.
Usually, even into my 20's, I like this kind of sappy, sugary stuff. It inspires me to wear a cute outfit, do my hair and go out and take on the world. Maybe I don't want to star in the musical, play basketball AND win the academic event, but, it's nice to know I could if I wanted to and maybe I do hold back.
But this weekend, I found it boring and annoying. Throughout the day, I found myself thinking about the first movie, not so much for the mystery and story, but because I liked seeing the woman buy the house, take her kids to school, do the laundry and grocery shopping, exercise, and figure out her relationship with her husband. I really enjoyed watching her do the day to day stuff. (Okay, and I really liked her outfit and hair in the last scene- even better than the kids on the Disney channel). The weird thing is, I could relate to her MUCH better than the kids. Surprise, I'm a grown up.
In spite of being weird and a bit sad at the passing of my adolescence, this was a good thing. Even going out to walk the dog, I felt a weight lifted. Being a grown up means I am comfortable with where I'm at and where I've been. I'm okay with the fact that I was never the popular cheerleader, like I might have daydreamed about when I was seven. I don't have to dress to impress others with my trendiness; I can look like a grown up- comfortable in my own skin. My body doesn't have to look like the teeny tiny fourteen year old's body. It's good and exciting that the important things in my life are doing the laundry and grocery shopping, not winning competitions and making friends.
My genius little brother has made quite a hobby out of movie watching and critiquing in the past. I think it's cool and he's taught me a lot. He has, at times, criticized some of my favorite movies for their simplicity. I can see and, I'll admit, even agree with what he has to say. But I think what makes them my favorite movies is having a character I can identify with. My mom and I have talked a lot about heroes. There doesn't seem to be a lot of women out there, especially in the media, that inspire me to be what it is I want to be. Sometimes, unfortunately, it's hard to be my own hero and it just helps to have someone you can look at and say, that's how I want to be.
The second movie I watched was High School Musical on the Disney channel. It was exactly that- a musical about high school. It was full of impossibly happy coincidences, kids being kids but then learning their lesson and all pulling together, and in the end (don't let me ruin it for you) the main characters not only land the lead in the school musical, they also win the academic decathlon AND the basketball championship AND resolve things with their rivals. So happy that there's even a sequel coming out for it. Yay.
Usually, even into my 20's, I like this kind of sappy, sugary stuff. It inspires me to wear a cute outfit, do my hair and go out and take on the world. Maybe I don't want to star in the musical, play basketball AND win the academic event, but, it's nice to know I could if I wanted to and maybe I do hold back.
But this weekend, I found it boring and annoying. Throughout the day, I found myself thinking about the first movie, not so much for the mystery and story, but because I liked seeing the woman buy the house, take her kids to school, do the laundry and grocery shopping, exercise, and figure out her relationship with her husband. I really enjoyed watching her do the day to day stuff. (Okay, and I really liked her outfit and hair in the last scene- even better than the kids on the Disney channel). The weird thing is, I could relate to her MUCH better than the kids. Surprise, I'm a grown up.
In spite of being weird and a bit sad at the passing of my adolescence, this was a good thing. Even going out to walk the dog, I felt a weight lifted. Being a grown up means I am comfortable with where I'm at and where I've been. I'm okay with the fact that I was never the popular cheerleader, like I might have daydreamed about when I was seven. I don't have to dress to impress others with my trendiness; I can look like a grown up- comfortable in my own skin. My body doesn't have to look like the teeny tiny fourteen year old's body. It's good and exciting that the important things in my life are doing the laundry and grocery shopping, not winning competitions and making friends.
My genius little brother has made quite a hobby out of movie watching and critiquing in the past. I think it's cool and he's taught me a lot. He has, at times, criticized some of my favorite movies for their simplicity. I can see and, I'll admit, even agree with what he has to say. But I think what makes them my favorite movies is having a character I can identify with. My mom and I have talked a lot about heroes. There doesn't seem to be a lot of women out there, especially in the media, that inspire me to be what it is I want to be. Sometimes, unfortunately, it's hard to be my own hero and it just helps to have someone you can look at and say, that's how I want to be.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Playing Outside
It's funny the little things in life that define us. Big moments like a wedding, a birth, or a death change everything but it seems funny that life just goes on as usual. Then there are the small things, a word, a gesture, an occurrence, that seem to redefine our thinking.
One time I went to Southern Utah with Dad. I was standing on a rock over looking Arches National Park when this calm, knowing feeling swept over me. In that moment, I knew exactly who I was and I wanted to cling to it so badly. The thing is, it's a fleeting feeling, but somehow it does take hold of us and move us in the right direction.
The same thing happened over the weekend when we went four wheeling. Being outside, away from the noise and hustle of the city is so freeing. Doing something fun and, for me at least, adventurous got me in touch with a side of myself that's been aching to get out. Watching this really cute, built guy ride a four wheeler like he's a little kid playing in the dirt but so strong looking and taking care of me and making sure I'm alright like a man and realizing he's my husband... it was kind of like stepping into my life and seeing it just as it is. Like you live life and get caught up in seeing it from your eyes looking out. Then this moment comes along and you get to step back and see a real picture of it but you also finally get to experience all the details that go by on a day to day basis.
When we were four wheeling, a couple times when we stopped, Jeff told me I had dirt on my face. I saw a smudge or two on his and said so do you. When we got back to his mom's house and I went in the bathroom, my face was black- like I'd put something sticky on my face and put it in a big pile of dirt. I had gross little gobs of dirt caked in the corners of my eyes. I looked HORRIBLE! When I came out, I said, now you've seen me look like the dirt monster, I hope you can still love me. Later he said if he wanted me to look pretty, he wouldn't of had me follow. In those two moments, I realized that he will love me, even if he sees me looking bad. And, it's the moments you share that are more important, more binding than looking pretty for him all the time. I know those things, but they were actualized in those moments.
All my blogs, all my journal entries since I was twelve, are about this search for myself. Like I know who I am, but getting it out in real life seems so hard. But these little experiences give me just one quick moment of knowing. And then they linger, drawing me toward something, giving me some peace of mind and assurance.
I get afraid too easily. I see myself and know who I am and what I am about and it feels like maybe it's different than what other people see or expect of me and I'm afraid to change. Lately I've realized that a lot of my fears come down to being afraid of confrontation. And by confrontation I mean asserting myself, asking questions, dealing with people being mad at me or misunderstanding me or not knowing me. Living feels like a confrontation to me. If I have these defining moments of knowing myself and I try to follow through and live that, I'm going to have to confront the world- even if it is just the little one I live in- and that scares me. It's easier to just go on with what people expect. Except, of course, in the week following these moments when that side that aches to come out has had a breath and rekindles the fire of hope and I feel that burning inside of me.
And what am I going to change? What big, destroy everyone's world or at least their expectations of me things am I going to do? I don't know. I really like that gray t-shirt of Jeff's that he gave me with the bulldog on a motorcycle (or something like that) on the back. I might wear that all weekend every weekend. I might get Jeff to take us fourwheeling once in a while. I might change in some of my "hippy" clothes for something a little less soft for the office- just so I can feel more assertive. I might not worry so much about how someone else is going to feel when it comes to making decisions about my job/career. I might just say, sorry and thank you but this is what I'm doing. Not try to explain away every thought and feeling I have trying to make theirs all better. I might not worry too much about old friends and not talking to them often. I might do my hair less or maybe more, but more simply.
One time I went to Southern Utah with Dad. I was standing on a rock over looking Arches National Park when this calm, knowing feeling swept over me. In that moment, I knew exactly who I was and I wanted to cling to it so badly. The thing is, it's a fleeting feeling, but somehow it does take hold of us and move us in the right direction.
The same thing happened over the weekend when we went four wheeling. Being outside, away from the noise and hustle of the city is so freeing. Doing something fun and, for me at least, adventurous got me in touch with a side of myself that's been aching to get out. Watching this really cute, built guy ride a four wheeler like he's a little kid playing in the dirt but so strong looking and taking care of me and making sure I'm alright like a man and realizing he's my husband... it was kind of like stepping into my life and seeing it just as it is. Like you live life and get caught up in seeing it from your eyes looking out. Then this moment comes along and you get to step back and see a real picture of it but you also finally get to experience all the details that go by on a day to day basis.
When we were four wheeling, a couple times when we stopped, Jeff told me I had dirt on my face. I saw a smudge or two on his and said so do you. When we got back to his mom's house and I went in the bathroom, my face was black- like I'd put something sticky on my face and put it in a big pile of dirt. I had gross little gobs of dirt caked in the corners of my eyes. I looked HORRIBLE! When I came out, I said, now you've seen me look like the dirt monster, I hope you can still love me. Later he said if he wanted me to look pretty, he wouldn't of had me follow. In those two moments, I realized that he will love me, even if he sees me looking bad. And, it's the moments you share that are more important, more binding than looking pretty for him all the time. I know those things, but they were actualized in those moments.
All my blogs, all my journal entries since I was twelve, are about this search for myself. Like I know who I am, but getting it out in real life seems so hard. But these little experiences give me just one quick moment of knowing. And then they linger, drawing me toward something, giving me some peace of mind and assurance.
I get afraid too easily. I see myself and know who I am and what I am about and it feels like maybe it's different than what other people see or expect of me and I'm afraid to change. Lately I've realized that a lot of my fears come down to being afraid of confrontation. And by confrontation I mean asserting myself, asking questions, dealing with people being mad at me or misunderstanding me or not knowing me. Living feels like a confrontation to me. If I have these defining moments of knowing myself and I try to follow through and live that, I'm going to have to confront the world- even if it is just the little one I live in- and that scares me. It's easier to just go on with what people expect. Except, of course, in the week following these moments when that side that aches to come out has had a breath and rekindles the fire of hope and I feel that burning inside of me.
And what am I going to change? What big, destroy everyone's world or at least their expectations of me things am I going to do? I don't know. I really like that gray t-shirt of Jeff's that he gave me with the bulldog on a motorcycle (or something like that) on the back. I might wear that all weekend every weekend. I might get Jeff to take us fourwheeling once in a while. I might change in some of my "hippy" clothes for something a little less soft for the office- just so I can feel more assertive. I might not worry so much about how someone else is going to feel when it comes to making decisions about my job/career. I might just say, sorry and thank you but this is what I'm doing. Not try to explain away every thought and feeling I have trying to make theirs all better. I might not worry too much about old friends and not talking to them often. I might do my hair less or maybe more, but more simply.
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