He'll Say Anything To Get That Dog

He wants this so bad. He really, really wants this. And he's willing to say just about anything to get it.

Which is what happens when you really want something and you are willing to try every angle, without thinking through the entire argument. My ten year old children, who really wanted a dog, promised to always feed the dog. They would walk him every day, I would hardly know there was a dog in the house. They were even willing to find a way to fund the health care, if we would only get them a dog.

We got them a dog. But we knew that they would not always remember to feed the dog, and they would not always be able to walk the dog, and they certainly were not able to fund the dog. Children who really want something are willing to say just about anything to get it, but we, as parents, know that those promises made in the heat of the ask are not going to always be fulfilled. That's all right. We make the decisions based on reasonable expectations and facts, aware that they are emotions at work as well.

The problem here is that the facts seem not to be in play at all, and reasonable expectations are being cast aside en lieu of emotions. Mr. Trump has promised to overturn marriage equality, which he can't do. He is going to pack the court with the kind of justices that believe, as he does, that marriage should be between a man and a woman. Except that isn't going to work because there aren't enough liberal justices in the queue to retire to change the vote, at least not now.

But he's saying what he thinks the voters in Iowa want to hear, because he wants this so very badly. I'm just worried that they are listening, and not thinking through how badly he wants this dog.

Small Town News Trumps That Woman in Kentucky, Every Time

This morning, before the girls were awake, I spent my quiet morning time reading, as often I do. Regretfully I gave far too much of that precious time to the inane story of that women in Kentucky who has decided that her beliefs matter most. And once I was finished with her I went and read online comments which just frustrate me and make me worry about things far more global than my morning mind can handle. Disgusted with myself, I made myself another cup of tea and picked up Sunday's newspaper, the one delivered to my small town driveway late Saturday night, the one that has been sitting under magazines since Sunday morning. It's only two sections, no more than 8 pages in total, but I read it every week and enjoy catching up with the high school football team and the Humane Society Pet of the Week. For reasons not thoroughly understood I also read the obituaries, inside the front page, right next to the notes from the Circuit Court. It's never a long list but they are clearly written by close family members and include interesting details about the lives of their loved ones.

Today's column included Nell, who was born in Kentucky in 1926. Nell was widowed at 18 but went on to earn a teaching degree, with a major in home economics, which then took her from Kentucky to Michigan for a teaching position. She married a war veteran and went about juggling the demands of teaching and raising a family. Her six children gave her grandchildren and great grandchildren. She was an aunt, sister and friend, but more importantly Nell was a Christian. We know this because it is the first thing listed in a long list of all the things that Nell was in her 89 years.

And there, in Nell's obituary, I found a tiny something that made all the time wasted reading about that other woman from Kentucky seem less important.

"Nell is survived by her son Joseph (Timothy) of St. Louis".

Listed with her other children and their spouses, Nell's son and his husband. Not the least bit newsworthy, just a part of Nell's grieving family. No woman in Kentucky can take that away from me, or Nell's family.

This is not a picture of Nell. My small town newspaper isn't really online and even if they were, I couldn't steal Nell's lovely photograph. Nor could I give any publicity to that other woman from Kentucky so here we have a picture of my grandmother, I just happen to like it. And I think she would have liked Nell.

Proud to be an American

Favorite Pride Photo
Mary, 2011

Now they've gone and done it, taken away one of my favorite subjects: marriage equality.  How can I complain and rant about the insanity of the state determining who I can and cannot marry? No longer must I point out that I don't care who you marry, as long as you're happy. There is no more comparing this quest to marry someone of the same sex to the idiocy that allowed states to tell us we had to marry those with matching skin color (not so long ago I'm afraid). Say so long to my lofty hopes and dreams that one day my children will find this subject as ridiculous as school segregation (oh wait, that might now happen). Gone are the cheers for Iowa and Illinois, and the boos for Kansas. Au revoir my old friend, I've never been happier to have so little to say.

But for all I've said thus far, it's here, most of it. My goodness, I've had so much to say, about marriage, as it can now officially be called.

Banned Book Week, The Family Book

Three years ago, when I started working in the library at school, Jack delighted in calling me Tipper. Digging through books that had not been touched in 8 years, I tossed plenty that were out of date, out of touch and some, yes, that were inappropriate. Books on the hallucinogenic properties of mushrooms, written in 1974, did not fit in our growing elementary school library. The pictures scared me, the content was, at best, disturbing, and quite out of date.

It seems I am not the only Tipper in Illinois. Erie, on the far west border of the state, has decided that Todd Parr's The Family Book is not suitable for their grade school library. The happy text and bright colors, the beautiful messages found in all his books, are just not what the good people of Erie are looking for in their book collection. Todd Parr, it seems, is promoting the gay agenda by including these words in his book: some families have two moms or two dads.

Parents in Erie were perhaps concerned that exposing children to all kinds of family was not something that should happen at the grade school level, at least not in Erie. Which is then to assume that every family in Erie consists of two married heterosexuals, and a couple of children. There must not be any single parents or families with step parents and clearly there are no children living with grandparents. Maybe that is the case, I don't know, I've never been there.

And even though I've never been there, it doesn't mean I'm not curious about what I might find. Even if every family in Erie confirms to the rigor believed to be acceptable by the school board, families in the rest of the world do not. Someday children in Erie might leave, and come to Chicago, or further, having only known the strict definition of acceptable established in their hometown. 

Giving children the opportunity to see the world in every way teaches them understanding and compassion. And showing them diversity without labels takes away the different factor. The term gay is not used in our home, no more than we refer to ourselves as straight. The Family Book introduces the idea of two dads, or two moms, without assigning a name, without drawing attention to this idea being outside of what is considered normal. It's not the only one; We All Sing With the Same Voice, a beautiful song, now book, from Sesame Street, includes: "I have sisters one, two, three. In my family there's just me. I've got one daddy I've got two". And one of my favorite books, Everywhere Babies, includes in it's illustrations pictures of same sex parents right along with those of mixed sex parents, with no distinction or attention directed at either.

Making broccoli part of the meal, rather than a  weird looking side dish that they are forced to eat, helps children develop a taste for broccoli at a young age. We don't say "eat your vegetables", we say "eat your dinner". And liking broccoli does not mean you are going to grow up to be a vegetarian.

Wonderful Books

We All Sing With the Same Voice, J. Philip Miller, Sheppard M. Greene, Paul Meisel
Everywhere Babies, Susan Meyers and Marla Frazee
The Family Book, Todd Parr
Two Eggs, Please, Sarah Weeks and Betsy Lewin

In honor of Banned Book Week, re-posted from June 2012. 

What Happens in Illinois Can Now Stay in Illinois

Illinoisans no longer have to drive to Iowa to get married! Have you any idea how boring that drive is? Dull.

Marry who you want, marry the person that makes you happy, and marry them at home, in Illinois.
 
Equality is important, and now it's the law.

Is Equality a Fairy Tale?

Jack and I celebrated a wedding anniversary this past Sunday. To honor our 12 glorious years together, I spent part of last night making phone calls to my local legislators encouraging them to vote in favor of marriage equality in Illinois.

Thankfully 12 years ago, when we got married, the state of Illinois didn't question our commitment to one another. They were not interested in our future plans, including whether or not we planned on having, or adopting children. Nowhere on the application did they ask about our birth order, only the priest that married us hesitated when he found that we were both first born, a snag that does raise it's ugly head from time to time. And because I am a girl and Jack is a boy we were allowed to marry in the state we called home. It was, and still is, a legal union.

Nine states have now legalized same sex marriage, Illinois is poised to be the tenth.

Curious 8 year old Mary listened intently as I explained why voicing your opinion matters, and why this particular subject is of interest to me.

"Me too Mom, I'm going to make a list for you, of things to say". She came up with only one thing, "some things are fair and some things are not fair and this is not fair".

"You know I think this is a little like a fairy tale, when the dumb old King gets to decide who is to marry, and they don't even get to say what they think. Isn't this that way, when someone else gets to say if you can marry? Shouldn't you just get to marry who makes you happy?".

Tonight Mary will be making the calls.

Really? That Gay Marriage Thing, Again?

My friend, and most loyal reader, Egg called last week, "where is the post about gay marriage? I can't believe you haven't written anything about Obama".

She knows me well, knows that in the past I would have taken this Obama outing and written like mad but at this point, being said with great respect and admiration, I really don't care, and I don't understand why so many people do.

Here's the thing, I'm already married, and I'm banking on this sticking, at least for the foreseeable future. If I'm wrong, if I'm soon to be out hitting the bricks looking for some other fool to pledge themselves to me forever, my hunch is that I would be looking for someone all 50 states would agree to be a fine suitor. Lucky me, there are 50 states which condone and accept my choice of lifetime sparing partner, 50 states who know what's best for me.

Way back before I was a woman who had an opinion, people were certain that passage of the Equal Rights Amendment would signal the end of sexually designated restrooms. Equal pay for equal work clearly also equaled shared bathrooms, and men having to suffer through women gossiping about coworkers while spraying copious amounts of hairspray and women having to suffer through, well, men in the bathroom. Amazingly that didn't happen. I know this because every time I have more than one cocktail I am forced to take my best shot at which door, with every new and clever way to say "women", is actually the one for me.

With that kind of hindsight on our side, what do we really think will happen if everyone, and by that I mean everyone besides Iowa, New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Vermont, agreed that we really don't care who you marry, as long as you're happy and you don't send all of us those cloyingly cute updates on your wedded bliss via Facebook daily? What if the mother of all who knows what is good for us agreed, what if the federal government told us who we could marry? Wait, I think they did because I'm almost positive that it used to be that I had to marry someone whose skin color was the same as mine. In fact, and this is entirely embarrassing, when I was born the state in which I landed still had laws prohibiting me from marrying someone who didn't match. That I did certainly pleased those old school lawmakers in Missouri however Jack and I come from vastly different backgrounds. If we are really digging into legislating who we can and can't marry, perhaps someone should look into this. Let me tell you, wedding planning across the great divide of family background was challenging at best. Well worth the effort, but a difficult path to long wedded, and legally sanctioned, bliss.

Many of our friends are married, most actually. Many, but not all, have married someone of the opposite sex. Without exception, and understanding that I do really love our friends, both men and women, there is not one of them that I would want to marry. Allowing everyone to marry would, in no way, alter my choice of spouse. Were Illinois to suddenly tell me that yes, I could marry Beth, I would no more want to run out and marry a woman than I would want to run out and marry Egg's husband. In no way will this affect how I butter my toast in the morning, or help my children with homework in the afternoon. We will still go to the beach, complain about the economy, and vote in the next election. In short, this hullabaloo does not dramatically alter my life, but for so many it does. And that I care about, deeply.


Egg was right, I have written about this, here, and here and here, and here. What I don't understand, really don't understand, is why does anyone else care? Will men marrying men somehow change what you like on pizza?

Kim Kardashian is Getting Divorced!

Kim Kardashian is getting divorced. This is big news; it's on the front page of the Huffington Post, CNN and Fox News. The Today Show found time this morning to probe the details and if you're like me, you simply cannot wait to see the cover People Magazine is working right now. Or you can, because if you're like me, you don't really know who Kim Kardashian is, and you just might not care that she is getting divorced if you didn't even know she got married.

To clarify, I know there is a Kardashian and I assume there must be more than one, given the amount of press devoted to anyone with this last name. In my one hour every so often, the one hour devoted wholly to mindless pursuit of People magazine while having my toes clipped, shined and polished, I am overwhelmed with all things Kardashian, a topic I find to be completely mindless yet exceedingly dull. It's not just my old reliable People, US Weekly and In Touch both seem to have nothing else to report. The Kardashian has forced me back to books while having a pedicure and that alone makes me just a tad bitter.

It appears that this wedding, the one that took place 73 days ago, cost about $10,000,000. You might agree that this is an enormous amount of money to spend on a wedding, a ridiculous amount even, which would still be ridiculous had it lasted 72 years rather than days. What is it that these people do to create such public interest in their grocery shopping habits? Not to mention their pregnancies, pets, wardrobe, hairstyles, eye makeup favorites and other intensely intellectual pursuits. Who are these people and why do we care so much about them and their "traditional" wedding?

In other People magazine news, Jessica Simpson is pregnant, but not married. It's been so hard, after the tragic divorce and countless breakups but now, finally, she's found true love and happiness, with her fiance, presumably also the father of her unborn child. My guess is that soon I will find myself bored, not with a Kardashian, but with updates on Jessica's growing baby bump, her diet woes, and her plans to put a hold on her upcoming nuptials. Maybe, months from now, People magazine will share pictures of her baby shower and then soon after, pictures of the bundle of joy created by Jessica and her fiance who will surely give their child the safe, loving and traditional home guaranteed by the presence of both a mother and a father.

It's not just Hollywood that is making the news. The Republican front runner in the 2012 presidential race was just revealed as a sexual harasser who paid off his accusers. He didn't do it, or he did but didn't know anything about it, or he did but didn't know just how far his staff had gone to quiet the mess. At any rate, he had no idea. He also supports a constitutional amendment to protect marriage between a man and a woman but apparently does not support the actual sanctity of marriage and those vows spoken 43 years ago, when he promised to honor and remain faithful to his female wife for the rest of his life. "Traditional families are the bedrock foundation of any healthy society", said Herman Cain in February of 2004.

On October 14th, Frederick Marvin, 91, and Ernst Schuh, 89, were married in Syracuse, New York, after a 52 year relationship. Unlike some they didn't jump headfirst into this marriage, these two men spent 52 years together before being allowed to promise to love each other for the rest of forever. It's unlikely they'll have children, given their ages, but I believe this marriage might last, at least longer than 72 days, I really hope so.

And there it is, the moral core of the country being worn away by same sex marriage, as predicted. Children raised by same sex couples being denied access to traditional loving homes, those non families, as defined by Michelle Bachmann. Maybe we should all have a 52 year waiting period before we get married, or maybe we should be grateful for those that give us hope that some things can last a lifetime, and you don't really need to spend a fortune and invite People magazine to make it real.

Still Crazy After All These Years

The two men at the next table were a bit loud, laughing heartily with a slap on the back kind of vigor. My lunch companion was Jane Austen and this wild kind of fun was a bit distracting as I read my way through a plate of rice and green lentils. "Remember freshman year, or was it sophomore, when you....", I looked up, suddenly envious.

It's not often that I have lunch with someone with whom I could reminisce about sophomore year, in fact it's almost never. My school companions have spread from New Mexico to New York, we rarely actually talk, much less have lunch together. The last time we were all together as a group was at least twenty years ago, so long ago I don't actually remember, and I certainly don't remember every saying "good-bye, see you in what, maybe twenty years?".

But that is how it happens, even with people that at one time you held so tightly that the thought of a weekend without them was torture. Thankfully laughing together is like riding a bike, you don't ever forget, especially when you realize, halfway through the beautiful wedding, that you left your car running in the driveway outside. And when you, at 45, end up being only a slightly more grown up version of the person you were at 18, reconnecting with those old selves comes quite easily.

Was this where we thought we would be? Almost thirty years later, giggling at the tiny dog in the tiny dog carrier two seats away, at the home of Peter and his husband Brian, in New York, watching our friend Laura marry her longtime partner Candace?

Long ago, at about this time of year, we'd all wrap ourselves in ragg wool, borrow a family wagon and drive west for a day at the Renaissance Festival. After hours of eating turkey legs, making hand dipped candles and listening to poorly tuned accents, we'd pile back into the woody wagon, pop the Vivaldi cassette in the player and muse about spending days like this for the rest of our lives. Of course at 17 we failed to consider that things change; life doesn't always stay in suburban Kansas City, and that we were just beginning to discover who we might be for the rest of our lives.

Family wagons morphed into mini vans and we moved away, found new friends, grew up, and grew apart. We married, had babies, watched babies go to college, and two weeks ago found ourselves back together for the first time in a very long time. We discovered that saying hello again is just as easy as saying goodbye, and that after all these years, we were essentially the same wonderful people we knew so long ago. It seems that knowing people so intensely, and so thoroughly, works to bind you together for years to come, even if you don't spend any of those interim years together.

Politics and ceremony aside, it was really nice to be back amongst old friends.

"Did you think Laura would grow up and marry a woman?"
"I don't suppose I thought Laura would grow up".

Let's Go New York!

New York is on the brink of legalizing marriage between two men, or two women. Why must this be news? Why must we all care so much? Recently Illinois said that if you really wanted, and if it really mattered, you could come to our state and get committed, but not really married, not now, maybe someday. Good for Illinois, just a little bit good, but come on New York, show us up, show us how to really do this right. I'm committed to many things: safe schools, a diverse community, healthy food, happy children, but I'm only married to one, thing. Let's go New York!

I'm posting, again, something I wrote in November of 2008, when California decided to change their ways and un-marry all those same sex wild things who had foolishly jumped in to this marriage madness. My belief remains the same, why do we care?

One Step Back, posted originally on November 14, 2008

There are days, oh the days, when the husband drives me crazy, simply bonkers. He does not wash dishes, he'll load the dishwasher but he will not hand wash one thing. He leaves the television on when he leaves the room, and he does not love, he barely tolerates, Eleanor Roosevelt. But I know he's here to stay, we're married, like it or not and thankfully we do love each other. And we're a family, the four of us (plus Eleanor) and I am quite certain that tomorrow we will be a family and the next day and the next.

Oh to be a gay man or woman in California, to not have to live with this burden, this sense of security, this insane knowledge that my marriage is legal, condoned and accepted. What it would be like to know that tomorrow I may wake up to find that I'm no longer married, that this commitment I made is simply no longer valid? That this person living in my house with me is no longer my spouse but now my roommate? I've had several roommates in my lifetime, loved them all, but did not want to marry one of them.

And here we are, celebrating an election that puts us all one step ahead while voters in California (and three other states) said no, maybe not all of us, let's leave these people one step back. And why? Why is this important to so many people? It's important to me, it makes a difference in the lives of people I love, it affects how my children will see the world, but why does it matter to you?

This morning I overheard Mary and Kate playing, they were exchanging rings and announcing "now we are married". Moving past the sister issue, I love knowing that my children think it's just fine for a woman to marry a woman or a man to marry a man. I want to be able to introduce them to my friend Peter and his husband Brian, not his friend Brian. I'd like everyone to have this opportunity, to be attached to this other person on days when you think it's the greatest thing going and on days when you want to hang the other off the back porch. Why should this emotional tether be only the sport of heterosexual couples?

Years ago I was a guest at a commitment ceremony, two men, in Kansas City. Telling my dad, my Texas Aggie Republican Dad, about my day I got "why should I care if they get married?". Really Dad? I expected so much more. And that's it, why should it matter? If someone else wants their shot at happiness, why not?

In the Name of Love

Mary has decided to name her first born Laura. Mary is five and unaware that I decided to name her Mary about five minutes before she was born.

Kate: Mom has a friend named Laura.

Mary: Who? I don't know her.

Kate then reported in full detail about the time they met my friend Laura and gave a complete and accurate description of her, including specifics about her partner, Candace. Bells then rang out for Mary,

Mary: I remember! Is she married to that lady?

Me: Not now, but they are thinking about getting married.

Kate: Will there be a wedding? Can we go?

Me: Maybe, but they live in New Mexico. I would love to take you there.

Mary: We would love to go to New Mexico!

Me: And they have two babies.

Kate: Why do they have babies if they aren't married?

Thankfully having two children outside the bonds of marriage is the only part of this conversation that didn't make sense to my children. As we celebrate Pride in Chicago today, I couldn't be more proud of my girls.

And those other girls, Laura and Candace, who I'm proud to call my friends.

One Step Back

There are days, oh the days, when the husband drives me crazy, simply bonkers. He does not wash dishes, he'll load the dishwasher but he will not hand wash one thing. He leaves the television on when he leaves the room, and he does not love, he barely tolerates, Eleanor Roosevelt. But I know he's here to stay, we're married, like it or not and thankfully we do love each other. And we're a family, the four of us (plus Eleanor) and I am quite certain that tomorrow we will be a family and the next day and the next.

Oh to be a gay man or woman in California, to not have to live with this burden, this sense of security, this insane knowledge that my marriage is legal, condoned and accepted. What it would be like to know that tomorrow I may wake up to find that I'm no longer married, that this commitment I made is simply no longer valid? That this person living in my house with me is no longer my spouse but now my roommate? I've had several roommates in my lifetime, loved them all, but did not want to marry one of them.

And here we are, celebrating an election that puts us all one step ahead while voters in California (and three other states) said no, maybe not all of us, let's leave these people one step back. And why? Why is this important to so many people? It's important to me, it makes a difference in the lives of people I love, it affects how my children will see the world, but why does it matter to you?

This morning I overheard Mary and Kate playing, they were exchanging rings and announcing "now we are married". Moving past the sister issue, I love knowing that my children think it's just fine for a woman to marry a woman or a man to marry a man. I want to be able to introduce them to my friend Peter and his husband Brian, not his friend Brian. I'd like everyone to have this opportunity, to be attached to this other person on days when you think it's the greatest thing going and on days when you want to hang the other off the back porch. Why should this emotional tether be only the sport of heterosexual couples?

Years ago I was a guest at a commitment ceremony, two men, in Kansas City. Telling my dad, my Texas Aggie Republican Dad, about my day I got "why should I care if they get married?". Really? I expected so much more. And that's it, why should it matter? If someone else wants their shot at happiness, why not?